The crews were continually drenched; the cold winds pierced them to the bone; they fell upon the rocks and were cut and bruised; now and then one fell, helpless, into the sea and was drowned. But the crews of those days were composed of youths who were looking ahead,—the most ambitious and courageous of all who lived around the home port,—and without flinching they took the chances until the ship was loaded.
These were the American fur-hunters of the sea. Rarely if at all elsewhere in the history of the nation can a more instructive contrast be found than that afforded when these men, leaping from the crest of the storm-waves to the seal rocks, are compared with those who traded pot-metal muskets and adulterated rum to the Indians in exchange for beaver skins upon the Western frontier.
Another glimpse of life at sea in those days is found in an adventure of the Neptune's men upon the coast of Patagonia. Captain Greene and some of his men went over there looking for seals, and found some Spaniards engaged in seal-hunting not far from Port Desire. The Spaniards said the commandante of the fort at the harbor would be pleased to give Greene permission to hunt seals in the region, and Greene, being a law-abiding man, went to the fort to see about the matter.
The commandante, however, pretended to believe that Greene was an Englishman; and as England and Spain were at war, the Americans were all held as prisoners, while soldiers were placed in charge of the shallop in which the Americans had come to the coast. As it appeared later, it was to get possession of the shallop that the commandante had decided that Americans were Englishmen.
Greene, however, was equal to the emergency. When the priest at the fort gathered the garrison into the chapel at 8 o'clock for the evening services, Greene overpowered the sentinels, ran out of the gate with his men, launched his whale-boat, rowed off to the shallop, set the soldiers ashore, and sailed away.
The Neptune, like all American vessels of the period, carried cannon. After seeing that his guns were in service condition, Greene returned to Port Desire and anchored in the harbor just out of range of the fort, and began to take seals from the rocks. The commandante came down the beach, and with much gesticulation (and nothing more effective) ordered him away. Greene might have defied him, but instead of doing so sent the purser to offer him the shallop (which was no longer needed) for permission in writing to go on with the hunt. The offer was gladly accepted, and Greene cleaned the coast of seals.
Greene's way of dealing with the official is especially interesting because it was characteristic of the American sea captains of the day in their intercourse with bumptious officials everywhere.
Then the Neptune went to Juan Fernandez and Mas-a-Fuera, where the cargo was completed.
"During the latter part of the time ... we frequently stove our boats in the surf," says a letter written by Purser Eben Townsend, and that is the extent of his comment on the dangers of landing on outlying rocks in the midst of a gale.
On June 9, 1798, the Neptune sailed for Canton, where she sold her skins for $2 each, and used the proceeds in buying China goods. This cargo, on reaching New York, paid customs duties amounting to $55,438.71, and sold for $260,000. The foremast hands received a "lay" of $1200 each. A paragraph in one of Purser Townsend's letters regarding these foremast hands is worth quoting:—