20th, Thursday. It was about ten o'clock in the forenoon before the flood began to make. The wind was southwest, but light. We weighed anchor and towed through Hellgate, when the wind and tide served us until we passed Whitestone,[400] as far as which the tide, from the direction of New York, usually reaches. We sailed bravely by and obtained the ebb tide in our favor which carried us this evening beyond Milford.
21st, Friday. We had shot ahead very well during the night, with the wind west and south-southwest, on a course due east, so that by morning we reached the end of Long Island. The governor's yacht, which had to stop at Fisher's Island, a little to the leeward of us, which is subject to New England, but which the governor is now endeavoring to bring under his authority, and for that purpose had sent his yacht there with letters, left us this morning with a salute. We observed a vessel ahead of us under sail, running before the wind, and we came up to her about nine o'clock. She was a small flute from Milford, laden with horses and bound for Barbados. We hailed her, and as her captain was an acquaintance of our captain and an Independent, our captain went on board of her, where he staid two hours. When he returned we kept our course, and she sailed to the south in order to get to sea. As soon as we reached the end of Long Island, they began to throw their fish lines, and continued to catch mackerel all day long. I think the European mackerel are better and fatter. We came to an island called Maertens Wingaert,[401] about four o'clock in the afternoon, having the Elizabeth Islands on the larboard and sailing between the two, with our course easterly and a lighter wind. Our captain had prayers every evening, performed in this way. The people were called together, and then, without anything being spoken previously, he read a chapter, then a psalm or part of one was sung, after that they all turned their backs to each other, half kneeling, when a common formulary of prayer was said which was long enough, but irreverently enough delivered. It was not done mornings. From what I have experienced the Hollanders perform it better, are more strict mornings and evenings, and more devout.
There was no moon, and the weather was cloudy. We continued sailing onward until two o'clock after midnight, when the captain going aloft cried out, "Strike the sails! strike the sails! let them run! let them run! we are on the rocks, let the anchor fall!" This startled me so that I cannot tell how I reached the deck, and ran forward. I saw we were indeed close upon a reef of rocks directly before us, and that we were under considerable headway. We did our best to lower the sails, and throw the anchor over. The headway was checked somewhat, but the anchor would not hold. We found that the spritsail had caught in the anchor-stock in consequence of the hurry in lowering the sail and throwing anchor, but it was some time before we could discover what was the matter and get the anchor loose; it then held fast in three fathoms of water at a musket shot's distance from the reef and about as far from the shore. We lay there until daylight on a lee shore, but fortunately it did not blow hard.
22d, Saturday. As soon as the day broke, and we saw where we were, we got under sail again with the wind, the same as before. In sailing between the land, namely Maertens Wyngaert, and the reef, the course is to the point of the island, running east-southeast in three and two and a half fathoms till you have this point on the side, and then you have passed the reef. We continued on until we reached the westerly point of the island of Nantoeket, along which we sailed to the easterly point, and thence due north until noon; but the flood tide running in strong, and the vessel not being well steered, we were carried to the west among the shoals. The weather was rather rough and the atmosphere hazy, so that we could not see far. The shoals were ahead of us, and we had only two fathoms, and even less, of water. The captain and helmsman were confused, and hardly knew where they were. This happened two or three times. In order to avoid the shoals, we had to keep to the east. We were fearful we should strike upon them, and it was therefore best to look out and keep free of them. About three o'clock we caught sight of the main land of Cape Cod, to which we sailed northerly. We arrived inside the cape about six o'clock, with a tolerable breeze from the west, and at the same time saw vessels to the leeward of us which had an east wind, from which circumstance we supposed we were in a whirlwind. These two contrary winds striking against each other, the sky became dark, and they whirled by each other, sometimes the one, and sometimes the other being strongest, compelling us to lower the sails several times. I have never seen such a twisting and turning round in the air as at this time, the clouds being driven against each other, and close to the earth. At last it became calm and began to rain very hard, and to thunder and lighten heavily. We drifted along the whole night in a calm, advancing only twelve or sixteen miles.
23d, Sunday. A breeze blew up from the northeast. It was fortunate for us that we arrived inside of Cape Cod yesterday evening, before this unfavorable weather, as we should otherwise have been compelled to put back to Rhode Island. We could now still proceed; and we laid our course northwest to Boston. We arrived at the entrance of the harbor at noon, where we found a considerable rolling sea caused by the ebb tide and wind being against each other. There are about thirty islands here, not large ones, through which we sailed, and reached Boston at four o'clock in the afternoon, our captain running with his yacht quite up to his house in the Milk-ditch.[402]
The Lord be praised, who has continued in such a fatherly manner to conduct us, and given us so many proofs of His care over us; words are wanting to express ourselves properly, more than occasions for them, which we have had abundantly.
We permitted those most in haste to go ashore before us, and then went ourselves. The skipper received us politely at his house, and so did his wife; but as it was Sunday, which it seems is somewhat strictly observed by these people, there was not much for us to do to-day. Our captain, however, took us to his sister's where we were welcome, and from there to his father's, an old corpulent man, where there was a repetition of the worship, which took place in the kitchen while they were turning the spit, and busy preparing a good supper. We arrived while they were engaged in the service, but he did not once look up. When he had finished, they turned round their backs, and kneeled on chairs or benches. The prayer was said loud enough to be heard three houses off, and also long enough, if that made it good. This done, he wished us and his son welcome, and insisted on our supping with him, which we did. There were nine or ten persons at the table. It being in the evening, and we strangers, Mr. Padechal requested us to lodge with him this night, as we did, intending in the morning to look out for accommodations. We were taken to a fine large chamber, but we were hardly in bed before we were shockingly bitten. I did not know the cause, but not being able to sleep, I became aware it was bed-bugs, in such great numbers as was inconceivable. My comrade, who was very sleepy, fell asleep at first. He tumbled about very much; but I did not sleep any the whole night. In the morning we saw how it was, and were astonished we should find such a room with such a lady.
But before we part from the East River, we must briefly describe it. We have already remarked that it is incorrect to call this stream a river, as both ends of it run into the sea. It is nothing but salt water, an arm of the sea, embracing Long Island. It begins at the Little Bay of the North River, before the city of New York, pouring its waters with those of the North River into the sea, between Sandy Hook and Coney Island. In its mouth before the city, and between the city and Red Hook, on Long Island, lies Noten Island[403] opposite the fort, the first place the Hollanders ever occupied in this bay. It is now only a farm with a house and a place upon it where the governor keeps a parcel of sheep. From the city, or from this island, the river runs easterly to Correlaers Hoeck and the Wale Bocht, where it is so narrow they can readily hear one another calling across it. A little west of Correlaers Hoeck, a reef of rocks stretches out towards the Wale Bocht, half way over, on which at low tide there is only three or four feet of water, more or less. The river then runs up northerly to Hellgate, where there is an island, in front of which on the south side are two rocks, covered at high water, and close to the island, besides others which can be easily seen. Hellgate is nothing more than a bend of the river, which, coming up north, turns thence straight to the east. It is narrow here, and in the middle of the bend or elbow lie several large rocks. On either side it is wider, consequently the current is much stronger in the narrow part; and as it is a bend the water is checked, and made to eddy, and then, striking these rocks, it must make its way to one side or the other, or to both; but it cannot make its way to both, because it is a crooked bay, and therefore it pursues its course until it is stopped on the opposite side of the bay, to which it is driven, so much the more because it encounters these rocks on the way. Now between the rocks there is no current, and behind them it is still; and as the current for the most part is forced from one side, it finds liberty behind these rocks, where it makes a whirlpool. You must therefore be careful not to approach this whirlpool, especially with small vessels, as you will be in danger of being drawn under. It makes such a whirlpit and whistling that you can hear it for a quarter of an hour's distance, but this is when the tide is ebbing, and only, and mostly, when it is running the strongest. The river continues from thence easterly, forming several islands, generally on the left-hand side, although there are some in a large bay on the right. When you have passed the large bay of Flushing, which is about eight miles from Hellgate, or rather, as soon as you get round the point, and begin to see an opening, you must keep well to the northeast, in order to sail clear of a long ledge of rocks, some of which stick out of the water like the Lizard in the Channel near Falmouth. After you have passed this you sail easterly along the shore without anything in the way. There are islands here and there, near the land, but they are not large. The end of Long Island, which is one hundred and forty-four miles long, runs off low and sandy. Continuing east you pass Plum Island, which is about four miles in length. Behind the bay of Long Island called the Cromme Gouwe[404] there are several small islands, Gardiner's Island and others. At the east point of Plum Island there is a reef, or some small rocks, but keeping on to the eastward, you sail far enough from them. From Plum Island to Adriaen Blocx Island[405] the course is east a distance of twenty or twenty-two miles. This island is eight miles long. Thence to Maertens Wingaert the distance is fifty-two to fifty-six miles further east, and Blockx Island is hardly out of sight when you see Maertens Wingaert. Between Plum Island and Blockx Island you leave Fisher's Island to the north, nearest Plum Island; and between Blockx Island and Maertens Wingaert you leave on the coast Rhode Island, which does not lie within the coast, as the chart indicates, but outside, and lies nearest Maertens Wingaert. With Maertens Wingaert begin the Elizabeth Islands, which consist of six or seven islands lying in a row, close to each other, towards the coast. The width between Maertens Wingaert and the Elizabeth Islands is eight miles. There is a fine sound or strait for sailing between them, although Maertens Wingaert is somewhat longer. This island is about twenty-eight miles in length towards the east. A little within the east point of it a reef of rocks stretches out three miles from the shore, so that it is best to keep nearest the Elizabeth Islands, although there is room enough between Maertens Wingaert and the reef to sail through with large ships, as there is three and two and a half fathoms of water at low tide. At the westerly point of the Elizabeth Islands there are several rocks, one large and several small ones, called after their fashion, the Sow and Pigs. There is a beautiful bay, and anchorage ground on the east end of Maertens Wingaert.[406] From this point of Maertens Wingaert the course is east-southeast about twenty miles, to Nantocket upon the west point of which there is a good bay with anchorage ground. The land is low and sandy; it is fourteen or sixteen miles long. There are several shoals outside in the sea, and also inside between the island and the main land, but they do not run out beyond the east point. When you have the east point to the west-southwest of you, steer straight north to Cape Cod, about twenty-eight miles; but you must here time the tides, which run strong east and west; the flood to the west, and the ebb to the east. The flood tide pulls to the shoals, and the ebb tide on the contrary sets eastwardly to the sea. Cape Cod is a clean coast, where there are no islands, rocks or banks, and therefore all such laid down on the charts of the great reef of Malebarre and otherwise are false. Indeed, within four, eight and twelve miles, there is sixty to sixty-five fathoms of water. This cape or coast is about twenty-eight miles long due north; and from thence to Cape Ann it is also due north, but to Boston it is northwest. There are many small islands before Boston, well on to fifty, I believe, between which you sail on to the city. A high one, or the highest, is the first that you meet. It is twelve miles from the city, and has a lighthouse[407] upon it which you can see from a great distance, for it is in other respects naked and bare. In sailing by this island, you keep it on the west side; on the other side there is an island with many rocks upon and around it, and when you pass by it you must be careful, as a shoal pushes out from it, which you must sail round. You have then an island in front, in the shape of a battery, which also you leave on the larboard, and then you come in sight of the island upon which the fort stands, and where the flag is flown when ships are entering.[408] That, too, lies to the larboard, and you pass close enough to it for them to hail the ship, what you are, from whence you came, and where you are bound, etc. When you are there you see the city lying directly before you; and so you sail into the bay before the town, and cast anchor. There is a high hill in the city,[409] also with a lighthouse upon it, by which you can hold your course in entering.
24th, Monday. We walked with our captain into the town, for his house stood a little one side of it, and the first house he took us to was a tavern. From there, he conducted us to the governor, who dwelt in only a common house, and that not the most costly. He is an old man, quiet and grave.[410] He was dressed in black silk, but not sumptuously. Paddechal explained the reasons of our visit. The governor inquired who we were, and where from, and where we were going. Paddechal told him we were Hollanders, and had come on with him from New York, in order to depart from here for England. He asked further our names, which we wrote down for him. He then presented us a small cup of wine, and with that we finished. We went then to the house of one John Tayller, or merchant tailor,[411] to whom William van Cleyf had recommended us; but we did not find him. We wanted to obtain a place where we could be at home, and especially to ascertain if there were any Dutchmen. They told us of a silversmith who was a Dutchman, and at whose house the Dutch usually went to lodge. We went in search of him, but he was not at home. At noon we found this merchant tailor, who appeared to be a good sort of a person. He spoke tolerably good French, and informed us there was a ship up for England immediately, and another in about three weeks. The first was too soon for us, and we therefore thought it best to wait for the other. We also found the silversmith, who bade us welcome. His name was Willem Ros, from Wesel. He had married an Englishwoman, and carried on his business here. He told us we might come and lodge with him, if we wished, which we determined to do; for to lie again in our last night's nest was not agreeable to us. We exchanged some of our money, and obtained six shillings and sixpence each for our ducatoons, and ten shillings each for the ducats. We went accordingly to lodge at the goldsmith's, whom my comrade knew well, though he did not recollect my comrade.[412] We were better off at his house, for although his wife was an Englishwoman, she was quite a good housekeeper.
25th, Tuesday. We went in search of Mr. Paddechal this morning and paid him for our passage here, twenty shillings New England currency, for each of us. We wanted to obtain our goods, but they were all too busy then, and promised they would send them to us in the city the next day. We inquired after Mr. John Pigon, to whom Mr. Robert Sanders, of Albany, promised to send Wouter the Indian, with a letter, but he had received neither the letter nor the Indian; so that we must offer up our poor Indian to the pleasure of the Lord. We also went to look after the ship, in which we were going to leave for London. We understood the name of the captain was Jan Foy. The ship was called the Dolphin, and mounted sixteen guns.[413] Several passengers were engaged. There was a surgeon in the service of the ship from Rotterdam, named Johan Owins, who had been to Surinam[414] and afterwards to the island of Fayal,[415] from whence he had come here, and now wished to go home. There was also a sailor on board the ship who spoke Dutch, or was a Dutchman. The carpenter was a Norwegian who lived at Flushing.