We had a fine passage to the Gulf of Mexico, with fair prospects of a speedy voyage. Slowly the fine breeze died away, the atmosphere became unusually sultry, the barometer falling rapidly. Then we knew that trouble was in store for us. It was not long in coming, either. A severe hurricane from the West Indies struck us. All sail was taken in except close-reefed main top-sail and fore-storm stay-sail. Then the bark was hove to, head to wind. The wind roared and whistled through the rigging, the waves commenced to rise rapidly and roll on deck, rain was pouring down in torrents, and lightning seemed to be striking all around us. The bark had a half deck extending to the main-mast. The after part was the cabin, the rest was for storing freight. In there were several tons of gunpowder. We did not know how soon the lightning might send us all skyward. Partly for exercise and self-preservation, I was working with the crew as one of them. The cook was with us also, since he had been washed out of the galley by a heavy sea, and would take no more chances among his pots and kettles. All hands kept aft on the vessel's quarter-deck, no other place being safe from the heavy seas. The storm kept increasing in violence, until finally the strain from the top-sails bent the main-yard up and it snapped in two. All hands started aloft to save the sails. I happened to be first, and went out to the weather side, as is customary. When about half-way out the foot of the sail, it flopped over the top-yard, struck me in the breast, and knocked me off the yard. What a queer sensation I had while falling! So many thoughts rushed through my brain in an instant, especially whether I would strike on deck or go overboard! The vessel was heavily careened over to leeward from the force of the wind, and luckily I struck in the lower rigging, my arms going between the ratlins, where I hung on for life, the pressure of the wind helping me considerably. My mishap was enough for the other men—not one would venture on the yard. They just clung to the rigging, and let the top-sail blow away in small pieces.
With the top-sail gone, the bark fell off into the trough of the sea. Then the sea washed over the decks. For the first time on the ocean I saw the experiment tried of dragging a vessel head on to sea. The end of a large hawser was fastened to the vessel's head, the rest put overboard, in hopes that in dragging through the water the strain would swing us head on. It was not a success. The waves washed the hawser all around the bark's bow and sides. If we could have once got it straightened out, the plan might have worked. Many a shipwrecked sailor has been saved by a similar plan, when compelled to abandon a ship and take to a small boat, by fastening a rope to the middle of an oar and throwing it into the water. It has thus kept the boat's head to the seas, and prevented it from swamping. The lee-pump was kept going continually, and that was hard work. Two men at a time were at the handle. The bark was badly strained and leaking considerably. At one time we thought all the water was pumped out, but that was a mistake on our part. The pump had commenced sucking, and no water was coming up. The fact of no air hissing as usual seemed rather strange. The upper box was taken out, and then an iron hook lowered down for the lower box. When that was hauled up, the mystery was explained. About a pint of nicely water-soaked beans was holding the clapper down. By using the sounding rod, we found about fourteen inches of water below. The pump was rigged again and started, and in a few more minutes it was the same old trouble—more beans! The process of drawing the boxes was gone over again. The same result followed—more beans! A barrel of that edible fruit had broken open in the cargo, and every individual bean had found its way to the pump-well. The comments were loud and deep, and the man who invented beans was damned in all styles in several different languages.
Well, there was nothing else to do but pump the beans out on the instalment plan. Just as soon as a certain quantity got on top of the valve or clapper, it acted effectually as an automatic shut-off for the water. The hurricane had been blowing for three days and our worst danger—the terror of all sailors—was close at hand. We were drifting towards the Florida reefs. A few hours more and the ship, with all hands, would be a thing of the past. There was no possibility of escape unless the gale abated or the wind shifted to another direction. Birds by the hundreds were flying for our vessel. They were land birds of all kinds and sizes, probably blown to sea from Cuba. Striking the rigging or any part of the vessel, they would be instantly killed. Every nook and corner on the deck was filled with their dead bodies. The wind blew them around like so much dust. One was found in the compass-box, under the compass. Its presence was made known by the smell of a decaying body after the storm was over. The anchor-chain boxes had a fine assortment sandwiched in between the big iron links. Those we could not get out and, consequently, the odour was anything but pleasant in that locality. The sea had changed in colour from green to a milky white. This showed that we were getting into shoal water. The agitation of the waves was bringing up fine white coral, which formed the bottom of the ocean in the locality of the reef.
Towards sundown the hurricane had passed us, the wind gradually veering around to the north, which made a fair wind for us to Mobile. All sail was set, the damage repaired as much as possible, the cook made a lot of good strong coffee, and then all hands took turns in taking a much-needed sleep.
A remarkable sight on that trip I have forgotten to mention: one pleasant evening the sun was exactly even on the west horizon and a bright full moon on the eastern. It lasted only a few minutes, but it was a beautiful sight. All the time I have passed on the ocean, I never saw the phenomenon but that once.
The next afternoon after the storm we sighted a vessel dead ahead. On getting closer we saw a signal of distress flying. The ship had lost all her masts close to deck, was almost on her beam ends, and rolling like a log in the water. What did our gallant captain do but sail past without giving any assistance! The signal indicated that the crew wanted to abandon the wreck. All hands talked rather plainly to the captain regarding his inhumanity. His excuse was that his own vessel was too badly disabled to assist others. In a few days we were off Mobile harbour and took the pilot on board. From him we got a description of the storm at Mobile. The Robert Ely, the ship in which I had intended taking passage at first, had arrived at the beginning of the storm, and anchored outside of the harbour. The wind broke her from her anchorage and wrecked her on the low, sandy island at the entrance of the bay. Three of the crew were washed over the island into the bay on the top-gallant forecastle and rescued. The remainder were drowned.
The island had been under water. When we arrived it was completely covered with the cargo and fragments of the wreck. Pianos, boxes and barrels, all kinds of dry goods, were to be seen mixed up with the spars, rigging, and timbers of the Robert Ely. We sailed in through the channel and up the bay. As we drew only twelve feet of water we could go up the city to a wharf. A tug-boat took us in tow, and, striking a mud-bank, the good bark P. T. Bartram stuck there. Some of the cargo had to be taken out in lighters to enable us to get up the Spanish River. Much to our surprise, the dismasted wreck that we saw at sea was towed in and got up to Mobile city ahead of us.
I went ashore on board of a steamboat and, in a few hours, was back at Campbell's boarding-house, giving a description of a storm in the Gulf of Mexico. After I had finished my story, I was taken to the back yard and saw two bales of cotton which they had captured floating in the streets in front of the boarding-house. One third of the city had been under water, the upper part of a wharf had been washed away, and a flat-bottomed steamer had replaced it by standing squarely on top of the spiles. Schooners and fishing-smacks were swept into the swamp and left there—over a mile from the river. A great amount of damage had been done all along the Gulf coast.
The season was rather early for work among the shipping, consequently I was idle. Sailors were needed for a ship ready for Liverpool, but no one wanted to leave Mobile. The wages, eighteen dollars a month, remained the same, and advance pay of fifty dollars was offered and increased to one hundred, so I concluded to accept it. The trip to England would take about five weeks, and, by immediately returning, I should still have a long winter for work. The giving of nearly six months' advance pay was to evade the marine law in regard to discharging sailors in a foreign port. If sailors deserted on a vessel's arriving, the owners were not responsible. My name was signed on the articles for the full voyage. Campbell, the boarding-house keeper, got the one hundred dollars and handed my share to me. I sent part of it to New York and retained twenty dollars for myself. Bidding my acquaintances good-bye and promising to be back in ten weeks, I went by steamboat down the bay and reported for duty on the full-rigged ship Annie Size. Campbell's responsibility for the advance money then ceased. That was exactly thirty-seven years ago, and I have never seen Campbell nor Mobile since.
The Annie Size was a ship of one thousand tons burthen, loaded with cotton for the Liverpool market. The difficulty in getting a crew detained us several days. Two other men and I had made up our minds to make a short cut in the voyage. The plan was to steal the ship's boat, get ashore and foot it back to Mobile. As we had our advance money, there was no particular desire on our part to see Liverpool. The next morning, while the mates were eating breakfast, two of us got into the boat. The third man weakened and squarely "flunked." With only us two to steer as we had planned, our little scheme had to fail. The second mate had come from the cabin and had seen us going away. He called the mate, and that gentleman hailed another ship to send a boat to him. In the meantime we were doing our best to reach shore. The other boat, with a full crew, caught up with us within a few yards of the shore. We were taken back to the ship and handcuffed until the day of sailing.