VOYAGE TO BRAZIL.
We remained in the roads of Kronstadt till the 28th of July, when, after a painful parting from a beloved and affectionate wife, the wind proving favourable, I gave the order to weigh anchor.
The whole crew was in high spirits, and full of hope: the task of weighing anchor and setting sail was executed with alertness and rapidity; and as the ship began her course, cutting the foaming billows, the men joyfully embraced each other, and with loud huzzas expressed their hearty wishes for the success of our undertaking. To me this scene was highly gratifying. Such a disposition in a crew towards an enterprise from which toils and dangers must be anticipated, afforded a satisfactory presumption that their courage and spirits would not fail when they should be really called into exercise. With a good ship and a cheerful crew the success of a voyage is almost certain. We fired a salute of seven guns, in reply to the farewell from the fortress of Kronstadt, and, the wind blowing fresh, soon lost sight of its towers.
As far as Gothland all went well, and nothing disturbed the general cheerfulness; but here a sudden storm from the west attacked us so unexpectedly as scarcely to give time for the necessary precautions. Tossed to and fro by the swelling and boisterous waves, I was not, I must confess, altogether free from anxiety.
With a new and untried ship, and men somewhat out of practice, a first storm is naturally attended by many causes of disquiet not afterwards so seriously felt. In the present instance, however, these untoward circumstances were rather productive of the ludicrous than the terrific; and whatever might be my solicitude as commander, I experienced but little sympathy from my officers. The strength and extent of the motion to which we were about to be exposed had not been duly estimated, and the movable articles in the cabins were generally ill secured. This was particularly the case in the state-cabin, occupied by twenty persons: not a table or a chair would remain in its place; every thing rolling about in its own stupid way, in defiance of all rule and order. The frolicsome young officers were delighted with the confusion; and even our seasick men of science could not refrain from laughter when a well-fed pig, which, disturbed by the inconvenience, had taken refuge on the hatchway, ventured from thence to intrude itself among them by a spring through the open window, and looked around in pitiable amazement on finding that, amidst the general clamour, repose was no more attainable in a state-cabin than in its own humble abode. I was meanwhile occupied in narrowly observing the vessel that was to bear us through so many and long-enduring difficulties. Amidst the conflict of the elements, a commander becomes acquainted with his ship, as in the storms of life we learn duly to appreciate our friends. I weighed the defects of mine against its good qualities, and rejoiced that the latter had greatly the preponderance. She was a friend on whom I might rely in case of need. Such a conviction is necessary to the captain: through it alone can his actions acquire the decision and certainty so indispensable in time of danger, and so essential to success. In the course of four-and-twenty hours the storm abated; a favourable wind again swelled our sails, and we enjoyed it doubly after the little troubles we had undergone. At daybreak on the 8th of August we left the island of Bornholm, and found ourselves surrounded by a Russian fleet cruising under the command of Admiral Crown. This meeting with our countrymen was an agreeable surprise to us: they could carry to our beloved homes the assurance, that thus far at least our voyage had been prosperous. We saluted the Admiral with nine guns, received a similar number in return, and continued our course with full sails.
On the 10th of August we anchored opposite the friendly capital of Denmark, where we received on board the theodolite, which had been prepared for us at Munich by Reichenbach, and sent hither. Before the sun appeared above the horizon on the 12th, we were again under sail, with a good wind and a tranquil sea. The sail along the Danish coast was interesting from its beautiful prospects, and numerous buildings illumined by the morning sun.
We passed the Sound the same day, and entered the Categat. Here we were visited in the night by another violent storm. The sky, pealing with incessant thunder, hung heavy and black above us, and spread a fearful darkness over the sea, broken only by tremendous flashes of lightning. The electric fluid, in large masses of fire, threatened us momentarily with destruction; but thanks be to the strong attractive power of the sea, which forms so good a conductor for ships,—without it we had been lost! In the North Sea our voyage was tedious, from the continuance of contrary winds; and in the English Channel dangerous, from the uninterrupted fog. We however reached Portsmouth roads in safety on the 25th of August.
Since it was my intention to double Cape Horn in the best season, namely January or February, it was necessary to lose no time in England. I therefore hastened to London, and resisting all the allurements offered by the magnificence of the capital, immediately procured my charts, chronometers, and astronomical instruments, and returned on board my ship on the 2nd of September, to be in waiting for the first fair wind. The wind however chose, as it often does, to put our patience to the proof. Its perverseness detained us in the roads till the 6th; and though a temporary change then enabled us to sail, we had scarcely reached Portland point when a strong gale again set in directly in our teeth.