Toward night a moderate breeze sprang up; the fog however continuing
as thick as before; and we kept on to the eastward. About the middle
of the first watch, a man on the forecastle sang out, in a tone
which showed that there was not a moment to be lost,- "Hard up the
helm!" and a great ship loomed up out of the fog, coming directly down
upon us. She luffed at the same moment, and we just passed one
another; our spanker boom grazing over her quarter. The officer of the
deck had only time to hail, and she answered, as she went into the fog
again, something about Bristol- Probably, a whaleman from Bristol,
Rhode Island, bound out. The fog continued through the night, with a
very light breeze, before which we ran to the eastward, literally
feeling our way along. The lead was heaved every two hours, and the
gradual change from black mud to sand, showed that we were approaching
Nantucket South Shoals. On Monday morning, the increased depth and
deep blue color of the water, and the mixture of shells and white sand
which we brought up, upon sounding, showed that we were in the
channel, and nearing George's; accordingly, the ship's head was put
directly to the northward, and we stood on, with perfect confidence in
the soundings, though we had not taken an observation for two days,
nor seen land; and the difference of an eighth of a mile out of the
way might put us ashore.
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