Voyage of the Destroyer from New York to Brazil | Page 5

9 A.M. and lay till 8 P.M. of the same day, (December 16th,) when propitious appearances in the heavens, we sailed again on the, now, somewhat irksome voyage. But "the Windward Islands will soon be gained," we all said, and "to the south of them, the trades we know, will be fine." And so the expedition went on, heading now for Martinique.
At Caja de Muerties, the Santuit's crew lent a liberal hand to straighten things up on board after the hard pumping and bailing. Colonel Burt, himself, on the Santuit, in command of the expedition gave ample signs of his appreciation of the merits of a good crew. The ship had free bilges before she cast anchor at the island.
There is but little to say of the rest of the voyage through the Caribbean Sea. The ship is taking a circuitous route, the sooner to gain the lee of the islands. Proceeding under low speed, and changing her course from time to time, to accommodate the ship to the run of the sea, she goes hopefully on.
December 18th, the best steam pump is broken beyond the possibility of repair on board. Nothing, except new, will take the place of the broken parts. But happily enough, the sea has gone down and we suffer but little now from leakage. The kind influence of the islands is with us this time in our need, and we'll soon be in smoother water still. So the ship goes now full speed ahead, with no rough sea to hinder.
December 19th, at daylight in the morning, the islands of Guadaloupe Maria Galante--(God preserve the name), and Dominique, are all in sight. The sea is smooth and the trades regular. The Destroyer is heading direct for Martinique, she raises the island soon, and at 4 P.M. of this day, came to anchor at port St. Pierre--in a leaky condition!
Here at St. Pierre, we met the America, as was anticipated. The stoker, Brennan, the kicker and biter, was transferred to that ship, where his mutinous conduct could be conveniently restrained in a "brig," which she rated. I own, here, that I was ugly enough to ask it as a favor: that instead of roast turkey and chicken, he should have bread and water, for a day or two, with not too much bread in it.
Poor old Hamilton was still in a very sore condition. He, too, was transferred to the America, where there was a good hospital in which to lay up and a very excellent doctor to mend his broken head.
One of the America's engineers took Hamilton's place on the Destroyer. And Sir Charles, the hero of the Soudan, coming from the Santuit, before we leave Martinique, makes our number again thirteen.
Why is Sturgis towing always the ship of the thirteen crew? We have no use now for number thirteen, the ship's work being better than it was and why did he cast anchor first at the Island of Caja de Muerties? A cold thrill runs through me now, as I ask the question concerning that king of two-boat men and his compact engineer, Mr. Brown, whom we all thought would be hard to kill, even in war. "Yellow Jack," alas! will answer my question in Rio.
I glance at the page of my manuscript just filled with the thoughts as they came without other shape, and I see that it bears the number thirteen, which was written there before I had thought at all of what I would say.
A small matter, sometimes, sets the greatest of you all to thinking; this "thirteen" comes back to me now, like an echo from over the sea. But it's all right! I suppose I am entranced with emotion. I must put up my nervous pen, else I'll be sentimental here in the small, still hours on the Spray.
At daylight this morning, to resume my small task and finish the story, or the "yarn" you may call it, I open a book for the word Noronha. Staring me in the face, is a letter to "Capt. Sturges, S.S. Santuit," which I wrote and did not send, here among the pages concerning Fernando de Noronha.
The atmosphere of the whole voyage is around me still. So I turn the matter away for the day to resume other work on my sloop, the Spray--some sailorizing on my light and airy craft--I may finish the voyage to-night.
Evening on the Spray, brings me back to the days on the Destroyer: The old year was escorted out and the new year ushered in at Fort de France Bay, by my sailors in a glorification ashore becoming the importance of the timely occasion. William, one of the smartest of the crew, came aboard from the hospital, some days later, minus a piece of his liver, which quiet John,