Voyage of the Destroyer from New York to Brazil | Page 8

lives had already been put in on the windward side of the island. They rejoiced now on the lee side where for the first half of their penal term they might not come, so I was told.
I observed a multitude of people, convicts and guards, on the shore, making efforts to launch a great raft (the governor's "barge" I suppose) which they did not entirely succeed in floating. The heavy breakers on the shore defied all their strength and skill, tossing the cumbersome raft back to land as often as it dipped in the sea. But the nimble canoes--mere cockle shells--came out and went in all right.
Fifty convicts had landed on the island the day before our arrival (President Peixoto's political prisoners) . There were, I dare say, senators and congressmen in the busy crowd of workers to-day trying to launch the raft which, like their own thwarted schemes, poor fellows, they could not float. For sinning politicians, even, life on the island met the ends of justice, considering ten years of it on the rugged side, under the constant roar of breakers.
It was about 8 A.M., when the Destroyer arrived at Fernando de Noronha. At 7 P.M. of the same day, she sailed with orders for Pernambuco, where she arrived without further incident of note, Jan. 20th 9 A.M. Later in the morning, a pilot with harbor tug brought her into the inner harbor, where she was moored to the Receife, which finishes the worst part of the hardest voyage that I ever made, without any exception at all.
My voyage home from Brazil in the canoe Liberdade, with my family for crew and companions, some years ago, although a much longer voyage was not of the same irksome nature.
Let no one run down the Liberdade of sailing fame. Her voyage, to me, was poetry, herself a poem. Such however was not expected of the terrifying Destroyer even from the beginning, and no one was disappointed but all were delighted to find her at last in port.
At Pernambuco, we fell in with the loyal fleet of the Brazilian Navy. Passing under the lee of the Nictheroy, the crew of that noble ship gave the Destroyer three rousing cheers. My old friend, Captain Baker, was on deck, as usual. The America and several other small ships were in the inner harbor. And what? my old friend, the Falcon, one of New Bedford's most worthy whaleships, which I last saw dismantled and aground at Fairhaven, and out of service: As like as two serving mallets, it is the old Falcon or Noah's Ark. Again, how mistaken: It is Admiral Goncalves' flagship, the Paranahyba, sure! I see cannon bristling from her sides, and gold-braided officers all about. Yes, it is the Admiral's ship.
My nautical skill is again brought into service at Pernambuco. What a thing it is to be "Navigating Officer in command." Together with the engineers, I am again mending and repairing, for which purpose the ship is grounded on the bank near the Arsenal. A few rivets about the bows having been sheared, consequent upon towing in the heavy seaway, was this time the cause of the leak. One tide sufficed for all the time necessary to repair below the waterline. When about to haul her off the following tide, a boat came from the Arsenal with orders to remain a day longer on the bank, that the work might be regularly inspected. It being a day of festa, the ship, even in war time, had to wait over.
On the following day duly appointed officers came, and the work that the engineers and I did in about an hour's time, was in the course of two days "regularly inspected," then, of course, it kept the water out.
I should explain that Sunday is not so much thought of by our Brazilian friends, but all of the fast days are religiously kept, and every thing they can lay their hands upon as well, over there.
The next thing in order was to fire the submarine gun.
A thousand pities it was that the gun itself was not in order. The Count and "specialist" wrote, from his hotel, a polite note to Admiral Duarte, begging the Admiral to witness the coming exploit with the cannon. There were several other Admirals about, but for special reasons Duarte had the Count's sympathy, so he invited him to come to the show. The note was written in the politest of French, but the Admiral didn't come--and tell it not to the Marines--the gun didn't go off! Worse than that, the Destroyer that was by this time tight and comfortable, had now to be put on the bank again, in order to unload the projectile from the cannon, since it wouldn't discharge by fire. This so strained the ship--a swell