"Keep her off a little!"
"All aback forward, sir!" cries a man from the forecastle. Down go the
braces again; in come the studding-sails, all in a mess, which half an
hour won't set right; yards braced sharp up; and she's on the
starboard tack, close hauled. The studding-sails must now be cleared
away, and set up in the tops, and on the booms. By the time this is
done, and you are looking out for a soft plank for a nap,- "Lay aft
here, and square in the head yards!" and the studding-sails are all
set again on the starboard side. So it goes until it is eight bells,-
call the watch,- heave the log,- relieve the wheel, and go below the
larboard watch.
Sunday, May 22d. Lat. 5 deg. 14' N., long. 166 deg. 45' W. We were
now a fortnight out, and within five degrees of the line, to which
two days of good breeze would take us; but we had, for the most part,
what sailors call "an Irishman's hurricane,- right up and down." This
day it rained nearly all day, and being Sunday, and nothing to do, we
stopped up the scuppers and filled the decks with rain water, and
bringing all our clothes on deck, had a grand wash, fore and aft.
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