“Well, then, we’ll have the mainsail on her,” said the captain, to put an end to the discussion. “You’d better go and rouse up the other watch, Mr Jackson; it will be a rough bit of work, I fancy.”
The second mate then went forwards, shouting, “All hands, ahoy!” and, shortly afterwards, the men were clustering in the shrouds, making their way as well as they could against the force of the wind, up the ratlines to the main-yard, the whole watch being employed on the job so as to get it done quickly.
As they lay out along the foot-rope they were almost blown away; but, holding on “by the skin of their teeth,” they managed to cast-off the gaskets, when, the clew-lines and bunt-lines being let fly, the huge sail at once bellied out in puckered folds, banging about as if it would soon thump the mast out of the ship.
“Now, tumble down smart, men!” cried the captain. “Look alive and bring the sheets to the capstan.”
Then, in a few more minutes, foot by foot, the clew-garnet blocks rattling the while like a lot of tin kettles, the ends of the mainsail were hove in nearer the deck, when it became fairly distended before the powerful breeze, which, catching it now full, seemed to make the Josephine leap out of the water as if she were going to fly—although, the next instant, she dived down with a heavy plunge forwards that sent a great green sea right over her bows on to the forecastle, whence it poured down like a cataract into the waist, flooding the main-deck and floating aft everything movable into the cabin.
We had already two men at the wheel, a vessel running before the wind being always more unmanageable than when sailing close-hauled or on a bowline; but this additional sail-power made the ship yaw and break off so continuously that two more hands had to come and help the others in the steering. It was ticklish work; for, if she were once allowed to broach to, one of the pursuing waves would soon leap over the taffrail, and then it would be a case for us!
The rest of the crew, too, were set to work rigging up relieving tackle, in case the tiller ropes should part; for, one moment the stern would be lifted high out of the water and the next sunk in the trough of the sea, causing a great strain on the rudder, which banged from port to starboard every instant, causing constant work in putting the helm up and down so as to preserve a straight course.
Preventer stays were also set up to take away some of the leverage from the masts, everything being made as snug as possible under the circumstances; and so, we drove on before the gale, going wheresoever it liked, until, as the captain said, it had time to blow itself out—although there did not seem any early prospect of this at present!
During all the bustle that was going on, I had managed to remain on deck unperceived; but now that matters had calmed down and nothing more urgent called for attention, Captain Miles, looking round the poop, caught sight of me.
“Hullo, Tom!” he cried, “what are you doing here? You ought to have been in your bunk hours ago.”