I could not long indulge in vagaries of the imagination. In a few hours the wind hauled into the north-east, and a short head sea rendered the ship exceedingly uneasy. While busily employed in various duties I felt an uncomfortable sensation pervading every part of my system. My head grew dizzy and my limbs grew weak; I found, to my utter confusion, that I WAS SEASICK! I had hardly made the humiliating discovery, when the boatswain hoarsely issued the unwelcome order, "Lay aloft, lads, and send down the royal yards and masts!"
My pride would not allow me to shrink from my duty, and especially a duty like this, which belonged to light hands. And while I heartily wished the masts and yards, which added so much to the beauty of the ship, and of which I was so proud in port, fifty fathoms beneath the keelson, I hastened with my wonted alacrity aloft, and commenced the work of sending down the main-royal yard.
Seasickness is an unwelcome malady at best. It not only deprives a person of all buoyancy of spirit, but plunges him headlong into the gulf of despondency. His only desire is to remain quiet; to stir neither limb nor muscle; to lounge or lie down and muse on his unhappy destiny. If he is urged by a sense of duty to arouse himself from this stupor, and occupy himself with labors and cares while weighed down by the heavy load, his condition, although it may command little sympathy from his companions, is truly pitiable.
In my particular case, feeling compelled to mount aloft, and attain that "bad eminence," the main-royal mast head, while the slender spar was whipping backwards and forwards with every plunge of the ship into a heavy head sea, and the visible effect produced by every vibration causing me to fear an inverted position of my whole internal system, no one can imagine the extent of my sufferings. They were of a nature that Dante would eagerly have pounced upon to add to the horrors of his Inferno. I felt at times willing to quit my feeble hold of a backstay or shroud, and seek repose by diving into the briny billows beneath. If I had paused for a moment in my work I should, undoubtedly, have failed in its accomplishment. But Stetson's eye was upon me; his voice was heard at times calling out "Main-royal mast head, there! Bear a hand, and send down that mast! Why don't you bear a hand!"
To this reminder, making a desperate exertion, I promptly replied, in a spirited tone, "Ay, ay, sir!"
Diligence was the watchword, and it acted as my preserver.
It often happens that a crew, composed wholly or in part of old sailors, will make an experiment on the temper and character of the officers at the commencement of the voyage. When this is the case, the first night after leaving port will decide the question whether the officers or the men will have command of the ship. If the officers are not firm and peremptory; if they are deficient in nerve, and fail to rebuke, in a prompt and decided manner, aught bordering on insolence or insubordination in the outset, farewell to discipline, to good order and harmony, for the remainder of the passage.
Captain Bacon was a man of slight figure, gentlemanly exterior, and pleasant countenance. Although his appearance commanded respect, it was not calculated to inspire awe; and few would have supposed that beneath his quiet physiognomy and benevolent cast of features were concealed a fund of energy and determination of character which could carry him safely through difficulty and danger.
Mr. Bachelder, the second mate, was a young man of intelligence, familiar with his duties, and blessed with kind and generous feelings. Unlike Stetson, he was neither a blackguard nor a bully. After some little consultation among the old sailors who composed the starboard watch, it was thought advisable to begin with him, and ascertain if there was any GRIT in his composition.
It was about six bells eleven o'clock at night when the wind hauling to the north-west, Mr. Bachelder called out, "Forward there! Lay aft and take a pull of the weather braces."