The navigation among coral reefs is very dangerous; because, as they rise like mountains of various heights from the depths of the ocean, and frequently do not appear above the surface, a ship may be among them, and having passed over some, may too late discover her danger, without the power of extricating herself. In fine weather, with a clear sky, they may, from the different colour of the water over them, be perceived at a distance; but at night, or with thick weather, their neighbourhood is only known by the noise of the sea dashing over them, or by the white crests of the breakers rising either ahead, upon either beam of the ship.
We continued running on all that night, without taking more than the usual precaution of keeping a look-out ahead. Towards the end of the morning watch, I came on deck to enjoy the freshness of the air, when, as I was looking over the side, I observed that the water, broad on the starboard bow, was of an unusually dark colour. I watched it attentively, when, turning round, and looking over the larboard quarter, I there perceived a similar appearance. I felt certain that it could arise but from one cause—either a sand-bank or a coral reef; for there was not a cloud in the sky to cast a shadow on the water. I called the attention of Fairburn to it, as he fortunately just then came on deck to relieve the first mate. He instantly sprang aloft; and, after taking a hurried glance all around, he ordered the cabin boy to call the captain, directing two men to station themselves at each fore-yard arm. The captain’s face exhibited no little consternation when he saw the position in which we were placed; but we could now do nothing except stand on, and keep our eyes about us.
“This is the consequence of not keeping a careful reckoning,” said Fairburn, as I stood beside him. “The poor master, afraid of a fancied danger, has managed to run us into a real one. However, if the weather holds good, I think we may yet do well.”
“I trust so,” I said. “I should think there can be little danger while we can see the reef as clearly as we now do.”
“Oh, you know, there is nothing a sailor hates so much as reefs and shoals,” he replied; “and with good reason. We may see the larger reefs, but there are some come up almost like the point of a needle, and if there is a ripple on the water, I defy the sharpest eye to make them out.” He was all this time looking sharply ahead, and urging the men stationed aloft to do the same.
We had frequently to alter our course to avoid the reefs which appeared ahead; and at last we seemed to be almost surrounded by them, as we threaded our course through a narrow channel, where we certainly had no business to be. Everybody was on deck looking out; for even the ladies were acquainted with our position, though the master took care to tell them that it was not his fault we had got into it. However, the sky was so bright, and the sea so calm and sparkling, that, as we glided slowly and calmly on, it was difficult to believe the real state of the case. In time, we even got accustomed to it; and when the steward came to summon us to breakfast, we went into the cuddy with our usual appetites not in the slightest degree blunted.
On my return, I went forward to look for Fairburn. “I think we must be pretty well clear by this time,” he observed. “The reefs off that island there, do not extend to any great distance.” He pointed, as he spoke, to a low little island which I had not before observed. It had a few trees on it, which seemed growing out of the water, and were clearly of recent growth. “It does not do, however, to be too certain in a hurry. Keep a sharp look-out there, my men,” he continued, hailing the people on the fore-yard. Scarcely had he spoken, when the breeze having freshened somewhat, and the brig going rapidly through the water, a tremendous blow was felt forward, which almost threw us from our feet, and her way was instantly stopped. The masts groaned and rocked as if they would have fallen, and the sails bulging out, fixed the vessel only faster on the pinnacle on which she had struck. Instantly, loud cries rose from many of the crew, the master pulled his hair, and puffed out four times more smoke than usual from the meerschaum he had in his mouth, while the ladies shrieked and cried with terror. Captain Van Deck did not seem to know what to do himself, or to order his crew to do; but Fairburn rushed here and there, calling the people together, and soon got the sails clewed up.
“What is to be done?” I asked.
“We must carry a kedge out astern, and try and haul her off; and if we succeed we must get a thrummed sail under her bows, and then pump out the water which will have got into her, for it will not do to stick here always.”
He had scarcely spoken, when the Dutch carpenter came from below with a face full of consternation.