On the 13th, in the morning-watch, being not far from the Azores or Western Isles, the vessel was nearly laid on her beam-ends, though then under double-reefed topsails, by a sudden squall at E. At this time a broken top-gallant-mast, a new hand-spike, &c. floated past the ship, the melancholy remains of a shipwreck, which we since were informed to be a Dutch homeward-bound East Indiaman, that had foundered with all the crew near the island of Terceira.
On the 14th the wind was violent, carrying away our fore-top-gallant-mast, and splitting the main-sail, while the other vessel lost her bowsprit, &c.; and on the evening of the 15th it blew a perfect storm, accompanied with thunder and lightening, and very heavy rain, which continued during the night, and which brought our main-top-mast by the board, while the ship’s crew were so very much reduced as to be hardly able to clear the wreck, in which I cheerfully assisted, by cutting away with a hatchet.
The two following days we continued scudding before [[388]]the wind, with a reef in the fore-sail, the sea running mountains high, and constantly breaking over the vessel—pumps going day and night; soon after which we saluted the Alarm frigate from Holland, which compliment they returned.
At length, the weather becoming fair, we were carried within soundings, on the 19th, when we hove the lead in ninety fathom water; but the wind shifting to the N. E. with foul weather, we beat about in the chops of the Channel, till the morning of the 21st, when at half past one a signal gun was fired for the other vessel, that we saw the light off Scilly; and at four o’clock P.M. got the pilot on board.
Having been becalmed two days off Dover, it was the 27th before we first saw the Dutch coast: here we purchased some excellent fish from a Schevelin boat, with which we entertained the whole crew, though during this sea voyage no ship’s company could be better provided.
Having kept off shore during the night, we at last doubled Keykduyn and the Helder; and on the 28th, at three o’clock P.M. both ships, under a discharge of nine guns, dropped anchor in the Texel roads.
On the 30th, having passed the small island of Urk, in the Zuyder Sea, which is the only rock in the province of Holland, both vessels running before the wind with a fine breeze, premeditatedly stuck fast upon the Pampus—this is a large bank of soft mire, covered with shoal water, and not far from Amsterdam, which it naturally protects [[389]]like a barrier from all foreign invaders; since all ships whatever must either be lifted over or dragged through this bank of mud.
The first is done by sinking two concave vessels, called camels, which being chained together under the bottom of an Indiaman or man-of-war, of whatever burthen, the water is pumped out of them, when rising gradually to the surface with their burthen, they carry it to where there is to be found sufficient depth to keep it afloat.
The second method is practised on smaller vessels, and consists of half a dozen sail boats, called water-manakins, towing them through the mud, which can never be done but when straight before the wind: at which time not only the ship itself, but the boats that have her in tow, must crowd all the sail they possibly can carry.
On the morning of the 31st, having been becalmed all night, a fresh breeze at E. again sprung up, when we fired a gun as a signal, and five or six water-manakins instantly came off, by the help of which we were dragged over the Pampus, not at the rate of fourteen knots an hour, but at that of fourteen hours a knot, since we did not get clear of it in less than three days sailing, though not four miles in length: however, I must confess, that the last day we had scarcely any wind at all.