Life and Adventure in the South Pacific

by John D. Jones

Our ship was to sail on the 23d of October, 18—. Accordingly, on the morning of that day, every thing on board was in a glorious state of confusion. Chests, bundles, bedding, etc., were strewn about the decks until the lawful owners should take charge of them.

As soon as the crew were all on board, orders were given to “man the windlass,” and in a few moments the anchor was on the bow, and our last hold on American soil broken. Many an hour must pass, and many a mile of the blue wave be plowed, ere we could again drop our anchor in this port. The captain now came on board, accompanied by his wife and son, the huge sails were loosed, and we left the city of New Bedford with fine breezes and pleasant weather; many of us with gloomy forebodings, vainly endeavoring to penetrate the dim veil of the future and conjecture as to whether we should be spared again to tread our native shores; again to clasp in our embrace those dear friends we were leaving behind us sorrowing. But the future was all shrouded in mystery, and we could but sigh farewell, and place our trust in Him who “doeth all things well.”

As we are now at sea, the pilot takes his leave, with those who have come off to bid adieu to their brothers, sons, friends, etc.; and now the weather-beaten tar as well as the green hand brushes away a tear, as they bid a long farewell to happy homes; and as their native shores gradually sink behind the wave, all appear to be suddenly impressed with the loneliness of their situation, and the dangers they have to encounter and overcome ere they again behold the dear ones at home.

THE PILOT.

THE MATE.

At about 6 P.M. the captain came on deck, called all hands aft, and made a short speech, the substance of which was that, “as long as they behaved themselves, they should receive good treatment, should have plenty to eat and drink, and a regular watch below; that they were to go when told, come when called, and that without grumbling; and if any of them should act contrary to this, they would find they had come to the wrong place; that there were some thirty of the crew, and he but one, and it was utterly impossible for him to do every thing to please so many different minds, yet it was perfectly easy for them to so conduct themselves as to suit him; and,” he adds, “let every person sweep his own door clean and mind his own affairs, and there will be no difficulty; but if not, look out for ‘breakers:’ in fine, he hopes there will no trouble, and in forty months to be sailing up Buzzard’s Bay with a full ship.”

The captain and chief mate then proceeded to choose watches. Of the modus operandi of ships’ “watches” we presume a great many are conversant; but, for the benefit of those who are not, we will here relate it. The ship’s company is first divided into two equal portions, called the larboard, or mate’s watch, and the starboard, or captain’s watch, which is commanded, or, technically speaking, “headed” by the second mate. At 8 P.M. the “watch is set,” one watch remaining on deck, and the other going below until twelve. They then change, those on deck going below, and remaining until 4 A.M., when they again change for four hours more, until eight. At that time they are again changed, the watch that had “eight hours out” having the “forenoon watch below,” from 8 till 12 M.; and in the afternoon the watch that had but “four hours out” the night before have the afternoon watch below, from 12 to 4 P.M. The time from 4 to 8 P.M. is divided into two short watches, called “dog-watches,” for the purpose of regulating or keeping them in proper succession. For instance: the larboard watch is on deck from 8 P.M. to 12; the starboard from 12 to 4 A.M.; the larboard from 4 to 8 A.M.; the starboard from 8 A.M. to 12 M.; the larboard from 12 to 4 P.M.; the starboard from 4 to 6 P.M., and the larboard from 6 to 8 P.M., when the watch is set. They are thus changed every night, one having eight hours on deck and four below one night, and the next vice versa, continuing thus for the voyage.

It being 8 o’clock, eight bells were struck, and one watch was sent below. About this time the majority of us landlubbers were paying tribute to old Father Neptune—casting up our accounts—and it mattered very little to some of us whether the ship went up or down.