In a few days we joined our
convoy, and with a fair wind bore up for England. The weather soon
became very bad, and we were scudding before a heavy gale, under bare
poles. Our captain seldom quitted the cabin, but remained there on a
sofa, stretched at his length, reading a novel, or dozing, as he found
most agreeable.
I recollect a circumstance which occurred, which will prove the apathy
of his disposition, and how unfit he was to command so fine a frigate.
We had been scudding three days, when the weather became much worse.
O'Brien, who had the middle watch, went down to report that "it blew
very hard."
"Very well," said the captain; "let me know if it blows harder."
In about an hour more the gale increased, and O'Brien went down again.
"It blows much harder, Captain Horton."
"Very well," answered Captain Horton, turning in his cot; "you may call
me again when it _blows harder_."
At about six bells the gale was at its height, and the wind roared in
its fury. Down went O'Brien again. "It blows tremendous hard now,
Captain Horton."
"Well, well, if the weather becomes worse--"
"It can't be worse," interrupted O'Brien; "it's impossible to blow
harder."
"Indeed! Well, then," replied the captain, "let me know when _it
lulls_."
In the morning watch a similar circumstance took place. Mr Phillott went
down, and said that several of the convoy were out of sight astern.
"Shall we heave-to, Captain Horton?"
"Oh, no," replied he, "she will be so uneasy.
Pages:
430
431
432
433
434
435
436
437
438
439
440
441
442
443
444
445
446
447
448
449
450
451
452
453
454