Voyage of the Destroyer from New York to Brazil

Voyage of the Destroyer from New York to Brazil
Joshua Slocum (1894)
INTRODUCTION
FROM the quiet cabin of my home on the Spray, the reminiscence of a
war.
Frankly it was with a thrill of delight that I joined the service of Brazil
to lend a hand to the legal government of a people in whose country I
had spent happy days; and where moreover I found lasting friends who
will join me now in a grin over peacock sailors playing man-o-war.
Brazil has indeed sailors of her own, but to find them one must go
down to the barcassa and the jangada where the born son of Neptune
lives. In his unassuming and lowly condition, a true child of the sea.
To these friends let me tell now, who have come from the war, the
story of the voyage of the famous Destroyer: the first ship of the strong
right arm of future Brazil.
VOYAGE OF THE "DESTROYER"
TO sail the Destroyer from New York to Brazil in the northern winter
months was not promising of great ease or comfort--but what of that! I,
for one, undertook the contract of the novel adventure myself, with its
boding hardships and risks which soon were met face to face. Twelve
brave fellows--better sailors I shall never see--casting their lot with me
in the voyage were willing also to accept whatever fate might have in
store for them, hoping,--always, for the best. Curiously enough the
fatalistic number of the crew (thirteen) was not thought of before
sailing. Every one was looking for good omen. Some of the older
sailors made a search for rats, but not even the sign of a mouse could be
found. Still no one backed out--times were hard ashore!

A young man to fight the ship, in case of being "attacked by pirates" on
the coast of Brazil, came from a recent class of Naval Cadets of
Annapolis. With sufficient confidence in his theory, this young man
came early, bringing plans of the fight along with him, if there should
be any, for he was bound to begin right.
Also a nobleman, who came principally as Count, engaged himself to
be with us. The position of "specialist" was spoken of as his, but that
was by the way. The Count was a good judge of an hotel.
There came, too, I should not forget it, a young officer of the British
Royal Marine Artillery, who became in time a feature of the crew. This
young man had accumulated handsome gold bands for his caps, which
he frequently lost in the sea, upon the voyage,--caps and all. The sword,
which by merit he had won, was of enormous size. This sword and a
heavy Colt's revolver, which he wore night and day, gave my young
officer, I must say--for a little man--a formidable appearance. The
prodigious sword, I recall, "won by valor at the Soudan," and
"presented by Her Gracious Majesty, the Queen," had the American
eagle stamped upon its blade. This was the famous sword, which
buckled on over a dashing red coat, secured for him the position of
third gunner's mate to the Count, Mr. W----, a gentleman of influence
procuring him the place upon first sight of this rig and the cut of his
sails, for it must be borne in mind that we are to make a strong warlike
appearance when we come to Brazil, if not before.
Of all these awe inspiring weapons, my old sailors made due note. Well,
this young man came also, but taking passage along with the fighting
Captain and the Count on the steamer that towed us he was always
three hundred fathoms ahead, except in the ports we touched on the
voyage, and again came together to recount deeds of valor and trophies
won; my sailors always standing in awe of sword or gun; being, too,
always touched at the sight of the unmistakable bird spreading its
wings over the Queen's gift.
My own position on the ship: of "navigator in command," was hardly
less important than those above mentioned. Being a man of a peaceful
turn of mind, however, no fighting was expected of me, except in the

battle with the elements, which should begin at Sandy Hook. So on the
7th of December, 1893, after devious adventures in the getting ready,
we sailed for Brazil, in tow of the Santuit, of Boston, and began our
fight early in the voyage.
The most noteworthy of the adventures spoken of in "the getting ready"
was the destruction of a stout projecting pier, which apparently stood in
the Destroyer's way, on leaving the Erie basin. It was plain to be seen
then that she could do the work well for which she was designed and
named: A destroyer not of piers