After being becalmed six days, the intense heat was at last relieved by a thin breeze, which sprung up during the night. The sails were at once trimmed, and within an hour the “Flipper” was skipping the little waves to the satisfaction of all on board.
But the wind steadily increased, and by morning all hands were called to shorten sail. By noon we encountered a stiff gale, which blew from the east, and soon lashed the waves into a mad frenzy.
As the storm gradually increased Captain Gay began to look anxious. There was a brief lull toward evening, during which a great hail-storm descended upon us, the icy bullets pelting the sailors unmercifully and driving all to shelter. Then the wind redoubled its fury, and the Captain put the ship before it, allowing the gale to bear us considerably out of our course.
Uncle Naboth growled considerably at this necessity, but he did not interfere in the least with Captain Gay’s management of the ship. Safety was more important to us than time, and Gay was not a man to take unnecessary chances.
The three wild days that followed have always seemed to me since like a horrible dream. I had no idea a ship could be so tossed and pounded and battered about, and still live. It was a mere chip on the great, angry ocean, and the water washed our decks almost continually. After one of these deluges, when every man strove to save himself by clinging to the life lines, two of our best sailors were missed, and we never saw them again. Uncle Nabe began to whistle, and every time he saw me he gave one of his humorous winks or fell to chuckling in his silent way; but my white face could not have been much encouragement to gaiety, and I believe he was not over merry himself, but merely trying to cheer me up.
But, although the danger was so imminent, not a man flinched or gave way to fear, and Nux and Bryonia performed their duties as calmly as if the sea were smooth. The vessel was staunch enough, so far; but it pitched and tossed so violently that even burly Doc Acker was obliged to crawl into the cabin on his hands and knees to get his meals.
We fled before the wind until the third night, when the rudder chain broke and the helmsman was thrown, crushed and bleeding, against the lee bulwarks. The “Flipper,” released from all control, swung quickly around, and the big mainmast snapped like a pipe-stem and came tumbling with its cordage to the decks, where our brave sailors rushed upon it and cut it clear. I thought the ship would never right again, after the careening given it by the fallen mast; but, somehow, it did, and morning found us still afloat, although badly crippled and at the mercy of the waves.
As if satisfied with the havoc it had wrought, the gale now abated; but the waves ran high for another forty-eight hours, and our crew could do nothing but cling to the remaining rigging and await calmer weather.
Fortunately our ballast and cargo held in place through all, and the hull showed no sign of a leak. When the sea grew calmer we floated upright upon the water and it was found our straits were not nearly so desperate as we had feared.
Yet our condition was serious enough to make me wonder what was to become of us. The rudder had been entirely washed away; the mainmast was gone; the mizzenmast had broken at the head and the foresail royals were in splinters. All the deck was cumbered with rigging; the starboard bulwarks had been stove in by the fallen mast, and our crew was lessened by three able seamen.