called to the men to hold on; they were prepared,—and well for them they were so: with a tremendous roll the vessel was pitched over almost on her beam-ends; the thing was so sudden, and the officers were so blinded by the spray and wind, that they could not tell whether the whirlwind passed by the stern or the head of the vessel. Almost as quickly as the wind struck her on the weather side it was round to the other, and the ship was taken aback, or brought by the lee.
The mountainous waves were foaming, breaking, and dashing against her; one great sea broke off the knees of the vessel, drew out two or three of the long iron bolts, and loosened the cutwater. The thunder rolled, the lightning flashed, and every five minutes the hail beat on the decks like the pitching down of myriads of marbles. At length the horizon cleared, and the gallant ship, rising over the surge, went on her way rejoicing. Still the original gale continued with unabated violence, and the heavy swelling sea was a glorious although an appalling sight. A lesson of composure might have been read from a trifling circumstance: during the time that the wind was blowing furiously, and the waves were mountains crested with foam, on the lee side of the vessel I saw a stormy petrel, ever such a little wee bird, floating on the billows, rising and falling with them so quietly, calmly, and composedly, it appeared wonderful that the wind did not tear it off the wave and sink it in the waters; but there the little bird floated and floated, and rose and sank, and was too wise to unfold her wings for a second, or to attempt to fly.
25th.—We beat out to sea in the face of the north-wester; it was trying work both for the ship and the men; they succeeded in getting a proper distance from the land, and we tacked opposite Algoa Bay. The wind moderated, the sea went down, merely a long swell continued,—the palpitation of the bosom of the ocean after the rage into which she had been pleased to throw herself[1].
Unless in mountains like the Himalaya there is nothing in nature so beautifully grand as a storm at sea.
- ↑ Classically Mare—therefore feminine.
