On manning the Hector with ten men Downes had but ten left with which to guard more than seventy prisoners, care for the wounded, and work the ship. In this emergency he threw overboard the guns of the Rose, destroyed most of her cargo, and made a cartel of her to which to send the prisoners. Then he returned to Guayaquil Bay, from which the Rose sailed for St. Helena.
At Guayaquil a part of the armament and crew of the Georgiana were transferred to the larger and swifter Atlantic, which was rechristened Essex Junior, and the latter was ordered to convoy a part of the fleet of prizes to Valparaiso.
It is worth telling, because of the fame he afterward earned, that Midshipman Farragut was placed on the Barclay as prize-master—was made the captain of the ship. Her original captain had agreed to act as navigator, but he was greatly angered, for some reason, at the order to go to Valparaiso, and when outside he backed the maintopsail and refused to fill away and follow the Essex Junior, declaring “that he would shoot any man who dared to touch a rope without his orders.” Then he went below to get his pistols.
He afterward said he did it merely to scare the lad, but if that were so he failed, for Farragut called an able American seaman, and told him to have the main-sails filled away. This was done, and then Farragut told the obdurate captain “not to come on deck unless he wished to be thrown overboard,” and the captain remained below until Farragut made a report of the affair to Lieutenant Downes, of the Essex Junior, and the Britisher agreed to submit quietly to Farragut as captain. Farragut was at this time but twelve years old. Not many boys of twelve would be fit for such a responsible position at that age, and fewer still have had opportunity to show their metal.
The Greenwich was made a store-ship, and the Essex, with her and the Georgiana as consorts, sailed on another cruise, leaving Guayaquil on July 9, 1813. On July 13th, when off Banks Bay, three ships were seen. They separated as soon as the Americans were sighted, whereupon the Essex went in chase, leaving the Georgiana and Greenwich behind. Seeing this, one of the strangers came about and stood for the Greenwich. At that the Greenwich backed her main-yard, brought a number of men from the Georgiana on board, and sailed boldly to meet the stranger.
While these two were approaching each other the Essex overhauled the vessel she was pursuing, and found it was the British whaler Charlton of ten guns and twenty-one men. Her captain informed Porter that the stranger approaching the Greenwich was the Seringapatam, a ship of 357 tons, carrying fourteen guns and forty men. She not only outweighed the metal of the Greenwich, but had a larger crew, and was the most dangerous ship in those waters. Nevertheless Porter saw serenely the two ships engage in battle, nor was his confidence in his officers and men misplaced, for, after a brief conflict, the Seringapatam hauled down her flag. A little later, however, she suddenly made sail and strove to escape. The Greenwich at once opened fire on her and kept it up until the British flag was lowered again. It is likely, however, that the Seringapatam would have escaped but for the rapid approach of the Essex, for she could outsail the Greenwich.
Meantime the third ship, the New Zealander, of eight guns and twenty-three men, was taken by the Essex. On overhauling the papers of the Seringapatam it appeared that, although she had no commission either as privateer or letter of marque, she had captured one American whaler, trusting to have the capture legalized by a commission she was expecting to arrive. As his act was really one of piracy the captain was sent to the United States for trial, but he was not convicted.
The other prisoners were put on the Charlton and sent under parole to Rio Janeiro. The guns of the New Zealander were transferred to the Seringapatam, giving her a battery of twenty-two, though this was of no great use, save for one broadside, for the reason that she had only men enough to work her sails. Then the Georgiana was loaded with a full cargo of oil, manned with such of the crew of the Essex as had served their full time and also wished to go home (most of those whose time was up re-shipped in the Essex), and on July 25th she sailed for the United States.
The Essex with the other three headed for Albemarle Island, and on July 28th sighted another British whaler. It was a region and a season of light airs and calms, but the Essex rigged a drag that when dropped in the water from the spritsail-yard was hauled aft by a line running through a block on the end of an outrigger aft, and this, although laborious, gave the ship a speed of two knots per hour. As the whaler got out boats to tow his ship, Porter sent a couple of boats of musketeers to drive them on board again. So she was headed off and then other boats were sent to board her. The stranger then hauled down her flag, but before the boats could get alongside a breeze came. At that she hoisted her colors, fired on the Yankee boats and escaped, for the Essex did not get the wind until too late. Porter was greatly mortified for the reason that this was the first ship that had escaped him.
However, on September 15th, while cruising among the Galapagos Islands, a whaler was seen cutting in a whale. The Essex was disguised by sending down the small yards, and succeeded in getting within four miles of her before she took alarm, and then by making sail Porter overhauled her. It was now learned that she was the Sir Andrew Hammond, of twelve guns and thirty-one men, and that she was the ship that had run away on July 28th. Luckily for the Essex she had ample stores of excellent beef, pork, bread, wood, and water.