In the
bitterness of my heart, I vowed, should my life be spared, never to be
guilty of such gross profanity, again.
These feelings, however, occupied me but a moment. I was too much of a
real sea-dog to be standing idle at a time like that. There was but one
man before the mast on whom I could call for anything in such a strait,
and that was a New Yorker, of the name of Jack Neal. This man was near me,
and I suggested to him the plan of getting the fore-topmast staysail
loose, notwithstanding the mast was gone, in the hope it might blow open,
and help the brig's bows round. Jack was a fellow to act, and he succeeded
in loosening the sail, which did blow out in a way greatly to help us, as
I think. I then proposed we should clamber aft, and try to get the helm
up. This we did, also; though I question if the rudder could have had much
power, in the position in which the brig lay.
Either owing to the fore-top-mast staysail, or to some providential sea,
the vessel did fall off, however, and presently she righted, coming up
with great force, with a heavy roll to windward. The staysail helped us, I
feel persuaded, as the stay had got taut in the wreck, and the wind had
blown out the hanks. The brig's helm being hard up, as soon as she got
way, the craft flew round like a top, coming up on the other tack, in
spite of us, and throwing her nearly over again.
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