On Board the "Rocket"

by Robert C. Adams

Those who have examined charts of the sea, have noticed frequent interrogation points, which indicate that dangers have been reported in the localities designated. The charts of the Pacific Ocean especially abound with these reputed rocks and shoals, and keep the navigator in continual alarm, lest one should prove to be a reality. It was a wonder to me how these false alarms, as most of them are now known to be, could ever have been given, but an occurrence, by which I myself was deceived, has suggested a plausible explanation of some of the instances.

I was sailing in the South Pacific (in the ship "California,") in lat. 24° 20´ south, lon. 125° 6´ west. We were steering south, with the wind north, the sky clear, and the ship going about two knots through the water. At 1, P.M., the officer of the deck reported to me that there were breakers ahead, and on the port bow. I went on deck, and saw what appeared to be an extensive field of breakers, and also a low island or sand bank, thirty feet high, and three miles long, without trees or verdure, and with shoals, on which the sea broke, extending five miles from it to the north and west. The island bore south-east, eight miles distant, and the nearest breakers were two and one half or three miles distant from the vessel.

The mate went aloft with me to the mizzen-topsail yard, and with my marine glass we took a good look, and were both entirely convinced that what we saw were genuine breakers. The sea was very smooth and we could see the swell rolling towards us, then cresting, and spreading thin sheets of foam upon the water. The island also appeared very distinct as seen through the glass. I went down on deck with the intention of altering the ship's course, but deciding to run a little nearer to the breakers, I went up to the fore-topsail yard to watch them and steer the ship past them. I soon noticed that they changed their position somewhat, that the ship drew no nearer to them, and that there was a perfect calm where they prevailed. Finally I found the whole appearance was an optical delusion, caused by the sun shining upon the glassy swell of the sea, and a peculiar state of atmospheric refraction.

I kept the ship on her course, and sailed through the spot where the first breakers appeared, finding blue water there, but still observing the breakers in the calm spots at varying distances for the next three hours, until 4, P.M., when the breeze freshened at the west, and the illusion was dispelled. The island vanished after being in sight for an hour, and I presume was caused by the looming of the swell of the sea in the horizon.

The whole ship's company were deceived by this remarkable appearance, and if circumstances had not favored my prolonged inspection of it, I should certainly have made a report which would have added another to the list of doubtful dangers, which are combined puzzles and terrors to navigators.

Fresh south-east trades brought us north at an average speed of over nine knots, for a few days, and carried us to lat. 12° 30´ S. Here, according to books, we should find the N.W. Monsoon, and anticipating it I had followed the sailing directions and kept to the westward of the direct course, in order to be sure of fetching into the Straits of Sunda with the north-west wind. Instead of this, eleven successive days of light south-east airs and calms attended us. Coming at the end of the passage, this delay was very hard to bear, and we saw daily the hopes of a "crack passage" dwindling away. The tropical sun poured down upon us, and with no breezes stirring to alleviate its effects, discomfort of body was added to the distress of mind. The attitudes assumed on one of these calm, hot days, are so expressive of the mental emotions entertained, that the reader for further information as to how we felt, is referred to our artist's portrayal of the scene.

The Rocket's cabin was below the poop-deck, built in the style called a "trunk," that is, sunk part way into the between decks. My room was in the forward end, on the starboard side, and a small window opening through the "break of the poop" admitted sights and sounds from the deck. This was often very serviceable in keeping track of what was going on when the "old man," as the captain is always styled, was supposed to be safely out of the way. I also overheard many conversations not intended for my ear, and was sometimes entertained by the officers' yarns as they sat on the booby-hatch in the dog-watch, six to eight o'clock in the evening. As this was the passenger's first experience of sea-life, they very kindly supplied him most liberally with information on that topic. Some of the items were of considerable interest. The mate gave most of the stories, but the second mate sometimes "put in his oar." One evening, I heard the mate describe, in terms that would have done honor to a city-press reporter, the construction of a new steamer that was to combine two means of locomotion. A railroad was laid on her deck, and when she left New York, a train containing the passengers started from her stern. When the bow of the ship reached Liverpool, the train would just get to that end of the ship, having been rushing ahead all the time that the steamer was crossing the Atlantic. If I remember rightly, the passengers were only three days in crossing by this double method of travel.

Dead calm.—Thermometer 90° in the shade.

The second mate followed this up with an account of a sailing-ship that he was in, which had a gangway built around the ship, and the captain used to ride around the vessel on horseback with a speaking-trumpet, giving orders. The ship was lighted by gas. Pipes with hot tea and coffee ran to the captain's state-room from the galley, and a small railroad was laid on deck to carry the hands fore and aft, but it was a horse-car affair, and so on.