The sound of talking soon ceased, for many returned to their berths, and we heard nothing but the clanking of the ropes upon the masts, and the bursting of the billows ahead, as the vessel successively took the seas.
But after a considerable interval of darkness, gleams of lightning began to reappear. Tom Willis suddenly called out, “Vanderdecken, again! Vanderdecken, again! I see them letting down a boat.”
All who were on deck ran to the bows. The next flash of lightning shone far and wide over the raging sea, and showed us not only the Flying Dutchman at a distance, but also a boat coming from her with four men. The boat was within two cables’ length of our ship’s side.
The man who first saw her ran to the captain, and asked whether they should hail her or not. The captain, walking about in great agitation, made no reply. The first mate cried, “Who’s going to heave a rope to that boat?” The men looked at each other without offering to do anything. The boat had come very near the chains, when Tom Willis called out, “What do you want? or what devil has blown you here in such weather?” A piercing voice from the boat replied in English, “We want to speak with your captain.” The captain took no notice of this, and Vanderdecken’s boat having come close alongside, one of the men came upon deck, and appeared like a fatigued and weatherbeaten seaman, holding some letters in his hand.
Our sailors all drew back. The chaplain, however, looking steadfastly upon him, went forward a few steps, and asked, “What is the purpose of this visit?”
The stranger replied, “We have long been kept here by foul weather, and Vanderdecken wishes to send these letters to his friends in Europe.”
Our captain now came forward, and said as firmly as he could, “I wish Vanderdecken would put his letters on board of any other vessel rather than mine.”
The stranger replied, “We have tried many a ship, but most of them refuse our letters.”
Upon which, Tom Willis muttered, “It will be best for us if we do the same, for they say there is sometimes a sinking weight in your paper.”
The stranger took no notice of this, but asked where we were from. On being told that we were from Portsmouth, he said, as if with strong feeling, “Would that you had rather been from Amsterdam. Oh that we saw it again!—We must see our friends again.” When he uttered these words, the men who were in the boat below wrung their hands, and cried in a piercing tone, in Dutch, “Oh that we saw it again! We have been long here beating about: but we must see our friends again.”