After leaving the Cape we steered a southerly course for some days, so as to get hold of the south-east trade winds, which took us north to the line, making a poor passage of it; but from the line to Penang, by the north end of Sumatra, we made a tedious voyage. We were becalmed near the line for several days, in the doldrums. There was no dependence on a breeze when it sprang up. It was generally accompanied by strong wet squalls, which blew hard for a short time from all directions, and left you again in a hot calm. One hour the ship was under all possible sail; the next, perhaps, everything was in except the topsails, and they were lowered at times. It was dreary work. Worse: the sails were often flapping about for two or three days, in a bit of a swell, with only the faintest of airs to move you along. We did not anchor at Penang until the fiftieth day out from the Cape. For six weeks we had been out of sight of land.
I shall never forget the charm of first scenting the spice islands and the tropical vegetation, long before land was in sight. These delicious flavours came off many miles to sea, and the scented airs were very pleasant after so long a voyage. I was up aloft, as usual, one morning at six o’clock. There was no land in sight, though I could smell it distinctly; and we must have been from 60 to 80 miles from the nearest coast of Acheen Head, the north-west end of Sumatra. We had met scarce a sail during this cruise, and we were glad to arrive and anchor. There was something particularly refreshing in putting foot ashore after being cooped up on board, surrounded with nothing but sky and salt water. (We had become rather short of water, and our allowance had had to be reduced.) When you first land, legs and feet feel rather cramped, and one’s body is sadly out of condition, even at the happy age of sixteen.
At Penang, where we first touched, we heard that war with China was imminent. Our stay, therefore, was cut very short. We stopped only long enough to get in water and fresh provisions. Our next point was Singapore; and getting through the Straits of Malacca took some doing in a sailing vessel. Keppel was in his glory at the prospect of having a crack at John Chinamen and again seeing active service. So it can be imagined how we carried on all the way toSingapore. Squalls or no squalls, the ship had to put her best foot forward; and, as at that season the Straits are celebrated for violent squalls, we knew what was in store, for Keppel must get to Hong-Kong in time to be in the fray.
I must say that sometimes our nerves were a bit strained. One night in particular, during the middle watch, it came on to blow like the very deuce. Everything, to bare topsails, had to be taken in. Keppel, lightly clad, rushed on deck, and upbraided the officer of the watch, who had just given a fresh order to lower the topsails. The ship was now lying well over; and, as standing on deck was out of the question, nothing further could be done, though Keppel instantly gave the order to hoist the topsail again, saying, “Damn it, sir: we have been becalmed for some hours; and now a squall comes, and you do not take advantage of it.” It is needless to say, to those of my readers who understand nautical life, that no power in theRaleighwould ever have got those topsails up again during the squall—particularly at the angle we were at, with our main-deck guns dragging through the water.
We had many of these escapades between Penang and Singapore, and were often logged to be going twelve and thirteen knots in the smooth water, braced sharp up on an easy bowline. It was very delightful looking over the side, feeling the goodship quivering under a press of sail, and with the phosphorus lighting up the whole of her sides distinctly. We used to put every sort of additional support to the spars and ropes on such occasions: for go she must. In fine weather and smooth water, we used to bowse the fore- and main-yard arms together, and get our tacks down amidships; and we clawed many a mile to windward in consequence.
TheRaleighremained only three or four days at Singapore, though we were in sore need of a refit. We took on board a goodly quantity of shot and shell for conveyance to Hong-Kong. The colonials entertained us handsomely. We used to amuse ourselves catching sharks, or shooting at any shark that showed its fin above water. The harbour was infested with these brutes. A few of us took it into our heads (about as mad a thing as we could do) to swim twenty or thirty yards from the ship and back again, as quickly as possible. I suppose the sudden splash of eight or ten of us jumping into the water together frightened away the sharks that were in the vicinity; the water being very muddy, possibly we were not seen; but we got into trouble for so doing—and that served us right.
After leaving Singapore, we had to beat against the monsoon, all the way up the China coast, constantly anchoring with a light anchor termed acoasting anchor, and leaving all sails set, until a breeze should spring up. This was a weary business, particularly amid the circumstances of our hurry.
And now I come to a very eventful scene in my midshipman’s career. So far all had gone well with us. We were happy and proud of our ship. Little did we think what a few days were to bring forth; still less, that our fine ship would shortly be a wretched wreck.