On Board the "Rocket"

by Robert C. Adams

"We kept them under well enough at sea, but when we got into Rio Janeiro, what did the scamps do but set fire to the ship, and burn her up; and two days after a gang of 'em caught me one evening in the street, and gave me such a pounding that I couldn't see out of my eyes for a fortnight. I believe they'd have killed me if the police hadn't come along and rescued me. I vowed then I would sail just once more with a nigger crew, and from what I hear of this captain, I think he's just the man that'll suit me."

The "Dublin" had a fair start. In three days we sighted the Capes of Virginia and in two more worked up the James River to City Point. City Point then consisted of about twenty dwelling houses beside the negroes' cabins, and had wharves at which the vessels lay while receiving their cargoes of tobacco, which came to them in lighters from the city of Richmond, about thirty miles above, the shallowness of the river preventing anything but vessels of light draft from proceeding there. The tobacco was packed in large hogsheads, weighing from one thousand to eighteen hundred pounds, and as the crew hoisted them in they kept up a song from morning till night. Negro stevedores from the shore stowed them in the hold, and the captain spent almost all his time down there, watching that they saved all the room possible, frequently making them "break out" again, to the great disgust of the negroes. I heard one of them saying to the others: "I nebber see such a man as dis cap'n afore; he tinks he knows eberyting and nobody else don't know nuffin."

There was of course nothing here to interest us beyond receiving our tobacco, and when the ship was loaded to sixteen feet draft she dropped down the river ten miles, into deeper water, and there completed her cargo.

On a fine clear day in the end of December, we left the shore of Virginia astern and steered for the Straits of Gibraltar. Fresh and favorable winds prevailed for several days and we made good progress on our voyage.

One evening the captain in a confidential mood read us some extracts from the owner's letter of instructions, and was particularly merry over the latter part of it, which read: "You will distribute to the men the books and tracts which are supplied. You will endeavor to suppress all vice and immorality on board of your vessel and use your best efforts to promote the welfare of your crew."

The inmates of the ship now felt acquainted with each other, and as a general thing their good opinions were very much modified.

Capt. Streeter having no taste for reading, and being a man of energetic and active temperament, could not content himself in his cabin, and was almost constantly on deck roaming about the ship, criticizing every job of work, "in every body's mess and nobody's watch."

When bracing yards, making or taking in sail, he would stand on top of the house, and accompany his orders with volleys of oaths, provided things were not done exactly to his mind. If the crew did not move quite actively enough, and nothing in this way would suit him but the "clean jump," every blackguard epithet that his fluent tongue and inventive brain could command was heaped upon them: Scoundrels, black scorpions, and names too filthy for utterance were their common titles at such times, and when the men and officers did so well that he could not find a point to censure, he seemed rather disappointed at losing an opportunity for this favorite employment. Sailors call such a man, "a blower."

At night no one was allowed to sit down on deck, and though no work was to be done, the sailors had to keep on their legs. Such strict rules of course gave the officers a good deal of disagreeable work. From eight to twelve at night the men would have to walk the deck, unless engaged in working ship, and when at four o'clock, A.M., they were roused out, after four hours slumber, they could not always resist the temptation to sit down on a spar, or lean over a water-cask. In spite of their efforts to keep awake, their heads would drop upon their arms and they would fall asleep.

If anyone wishes to experience something which in his recollections will serve as a synonym for misery, let him sail in such a ship and stand the morning watch. In the hour from four to five as he stumbles about the deck, endeavoring to drive away the drowsiness that weighs down his eyelids, he will feel a wretchedness, which, unless he is a very unfortunate man, will seldom, if ever, be surpassed during his life.