Chapter XVIII

Third Voyage--Departure from Havana--A dead weight cargo--Heavy weather--A chase--Loss of a topmast--Get into Galveston during a norther.

Having got everything on board including the mails, a full crew shipped, the new foresail bent, and all ready for sea, I cleared for Matamoras, intending to strike straight across the Gulf. It was now the beginning of December, shorter daylight, and steady winds, and I aimed at making a quick run, and be less time exposed to risk, and not have to bear such a long period of suspense as on last inward trip. I had also got more accustomed to the business and become more bold and reckless.

Two United States gunboats lay in the harbour, but it was seldom they got up steam and followed a blockade runner, so we took no heed of them, but with a strong south-easterly wind blowing steadily we stood down the harbour and passed the Moro about three o'clock in the afternoon, the officers on the gunboats watching us steadily with their glasses, but as neither vessel had steam up I knew that they could not overhaul us before dark.

In case, however, that they might watch the course we took, we stood to the westward until dark, and then set the course for the old place, thirty miles east of Galveston. So far as I understood, no particular precautions had been taken to watch this entrance; in fact, this eastern channel was so shallow that few vessels could or would attempt to enter that way, and the _Rob Roy_ was about the lightest draught vessel which entered Galveston from Havana.

The wind continued to blow steadily and increased during the night, with a considerable sea, and I soon began to observe that although we had all our cargo under deck, she did not sail so sweet and easy as when cotton-loaded. The iron was a dead weight, and she jerked quick and did not roll so steadily or rise over the seas so easily, as when she had a deck-load of cotton; however, she was spinning along rapidly, though taking a good deal of water over her decks, and I was unwilling to shorten sail, as I was very wishful to get over to the Texas coast before we should meet a norther, as that would have been hard upon us loaded as we were.

The wind increased almost to a gale, and we were at last compelled to shorten sail and run under single reefs. Last trip we had too little wind; this trip we had too much.

There was nothing worthy of note, and we sighted nothing from the time we left Havana until the sixth day out, when we were nearing the coast of Texas. The weather was somewhat thick with rain squalls, wind about E.S.E., with a pretty high sea, when we sighted a vessel to the eastward upon our weather bow, about four miles distant. She seemed a schooner somewhat larger than ourselves, under a heavy press of canvas, and was running nearly before the wind, and as we were steering about N.W., we would cross her track.

The sight of another vessel is generally a pleasing incident at sea, in the ordinary course of things. It relieves the monotony, and sends forth a feeling of companionship; but it was not so on board of a blockade runner.

We desired no company and wished to see no vessel, and the sight of any vessel caused less or more uneasiness; and there was the usual conjecture as to what she might be and how we should act.

We were tolerably certain that the United States had now no sailing vessels acting as cruisers in the Gulf, but she might be a prize with an armed crew on board, which would make a prize of us if they could, and we had not this trip any arms on board to make a show of resistance.

Seeing that we would cross her track about a mile ahead of her we kept on our course.

As the two vessels neared each other we could see that she was carrying every stitch of canvas she could bear; rather too much for the gale that was blowing, and she was evidently straining to the utmost for some object.

We had single reefs in the mainsail and foresail, which we immediately proceeded to shake out. By the time this was done we were crossing her track, and we would soon see whether she altered her course to stand after us. She kept on her course, however, and we were relieved in mind thus far.

One of the men supposed her to be the _Emma_ which had sailed from Havana about two days before us, destination unknown, but she was a new vessel and this was supposed to be her first trip in blockade running.

Wondering why she was carrying sail to such a reckless degree, the idea at once suggested itself that she might be chased, although we had seen nothing astern of her, but the weather was thick so that we could not see far.

A man was sent to the mast-head to look in the direction, but before he was half way up a slight clearing of the weather showed a gunboat in the distance.

"Get the topmast staysail on her," I said.

"I am afraid she won't bear it," said the mate.

"We must try it," I said. "It all depends upon our speed for a short time; it is now past three o'clock. Yon gunboat is seven miles distant, it is near the shortest day, and it will be dark before six. If she can't gain more than two miles an hour upon us, we are all right."

"She bore the topmast staysail in a heavier gale than this," said Hagan, who was standing by; "the night we came out from Brazos River on the first trip."

"All right," said the mate, "let us set it."

The sail was set and it sent her along faster, but she plunged heavily into the seas and quivered violently, and I was a little uneasy, for it now recurred to my recollection that on the time referred to by Hagan, she was cotton-loaded, with a high deckload, but now she had a dead weight of iron in her hold which made a disagreeable difference in a vessel of this kind.

In the meantime I watched the gunboat steadily to see whether she would continue her course after the other vessel, or take after us. She did not seem to be a very fast steamer, and I thought she was not gaining very much on the large schooner.

One of the new hands that we had shipped at Havana, named Charlie, was an old hand at blockade running, and had also been in the U.S. navy, and served in the blockading fleet. He said that the other schooner had taken the gunboat before the sea. The object in doing this was because these gunboats were generally short vessels, and when going before a heavy sea they pitched heavily, throwing their propeller out of water, causing the engines to race, and requiring constant throttling of the engines, which impeded their progress very much: and from the clouds of spray which even at this distance we could see at times, shot out from the stern of the gunboat, it was evident that she was at a great disadvantage by having to run before the wind and sea.

I began to fear that on this account she might leave off pursuit of the other schooner and follow us, and determined if she did, to run before the wind also.

She seemed to alter her course about a point towards us with the object, I thought, of keeping in the wake of both vessels, and taking after the one she thought she would be most likely to make sure of.

She was not, however, gaining rapidly on either, and in about an hour after we had sighted her, she seemed to be fully five miles distant, when a rain squall came up and hid her from view.

While looking at our pursuer, I had been neglecting my own vessel, and the rain squall struck us suddenly, and crack went the topmast, and the staysail was fluttering in the wind. It was, however, got in safe and the wreck cleared away. This was a misfortune, but if the wind continued we could get along very well without the staysail, and while we were hid from the view of the gunboat, I thought it a good opportunity to alter our course, and now that the staysail was off her, she would sail faster by bringing her on the wind a little.

I altered her course to N.N.W. This put her on her best leg and took us off at more of an angle from the track of the gunboat, without the latter observing it.

The weather continued thick, and the gunboat was still hid from view, but we could hear now and then the whirr of her propeller as it was thrown out of water by her pitching. This, and the direction of the sound, showed to us that the gunboat was still keeping on the same course.

Just as it was getting dark the weather cleared off a little, and we could just see the gunboat about seven miles distant, bearing about south by west. We thought it probable she might not see us; we had altered our course, and our topmast and staysail being gone, we were less easy to be seen, and it got dark almost immediately after we saw her.

Although it continued to blow pretty hard all night we did not reef down as usual, as I feared that if the gunboat had seen us after the squall had passed, and the other schooner had escaped her, she would likely during the night stand towards the place where we would be likely to be, so that she might chance sight us at daylight.

Having had no observation for two days owing to the thick weather, I was not very sure of our position, but I knew that we must be getting near to the coast of Texas. About midnight, however, it became beautifully clear, and I got the latitude by an altitude of the polar star, which showed us to be about thirty-five miles from the coast, but as we had altered our course I expected that we would be to the eastward of the place we wished to make. However, as we should have to wait until night before attempting to run into Galveston, I determined to continue on the same course, and get up close to the land by daylight, where we would be more out of the track of cruisers.

We were now just in the track most frequented by them and we kept a good look out. Although there was no moon, it was clear and starlight, and some of the men said that by this sudden clearing up after thick rainy weather, we might look out for a norther. As that would be off the land, it was another inducement to us to get close up and be under the lee of land if it did come.

About two hours before daylight we took a cast of the lead, and found 14 fathoms. This was just as we wanted. The wind had somewhat moderated, but still blew steady. At the first appearance of daylight we were on the look out, but nothing was to be seen. The coast was low and the land could not be seen at a great distance, but when it became clear daylight, the land could be seen about eight miles distant.

This was all very well so far, but now came the time of danger. We would have to remain here for the whole day, liable to be seen by any passing cruiser. We would have been glad if the thick rainy weather of yesterday had continued, but it did not; it had cleared off and the sun came out bright and warm.

I now got an altitude of the sun, and got the longitude. I found we were, as I expected, about eight miles to the eastward of the landmark of the three sand-mounds. We now stood to the westward, keeping a sharp look out from the mast-head and keeping as close to the shore as possible, but owing to the rough weather of the past few days there was a very heavy surf rolling up on the beach, and we could not now venture so close as we had done last trip, if a cruiser happened to pass.

The wind now began to lessen, and it was near noon before we got to our old anchorage opposite the three mounds, and soon afterwards it died away altogether. This enabled us to go a little closer in shore, but I was a little anxious for fear we should not have a steady breeze to run into Galveston during the night.

"I am much mistaken," said one of the old hands, "if we don't have wind enough before long."

"A norther do you mean?" said I.

"Yes," said he, "a norther will be on before night, or I am mistaken."

"All the better," said I. "We are all right for a norther now, wind off the land with smooth water; I only wish it and night were here together."

"But how about getting up the main channel after we get into it. There is very little room for tacking with the centre-board down?"

This required consideration, and I thought it best to be prepared if the norther did come. The only plan I knew of was to warp up if the warp would be strong enough. In the meantime a sharp look out was kept from the mast-head, but nothing appeared in sight, and not a breath of wind.

About 3 p.m. the sun was obscured, and the air got a smoky appearance, and some gusts of wind came off the land.

I had, while in Havana this last time, bought a light kedge-anchor, and it was that which we had now down. The vessel was hove up to it, and the heavy anchor let go, and in half an hour the norther was on us with full force.

This added a little to the danger from cruisers, because, if a cruiser had been passing, she would probably have hugged the land closer to be in smooth water; however, it was now only two hours till dark, and all the rest was in our favour.

We could run in under close reefs, and therefore be less easily seen, while the cruisers riding at anchor would swing out to sea and have to pay out chain, so they would be farther off, and, as the wind was a little east of north, it was possible that we would be able to lay up the main channel the greater part of the way. However, we got the long line ready, and doubled it to use as a warp, and had the large boat ready to take out the kedge if necessary.

We then close-reefed the main and foresail, and put one reef in the jib, and, as we knew that the norther would be always lessening the water in the small channel, we determined to start early.

As soon as it was dark we raised anchor and stood along the coast. It was blowing pretty hard, but, as the wind was off the land, the water was smooth, and we kept well up to windward in rather less than the stipulated three fathoms, for although what little tide there was, was rising, still the strong wind off the land shoaled the water a little.

As we got near the entrance to the channel we could discover dimly in the distance the first of the blockading fleet. She was just about the same place as we had seen her on last trip, but riding to seaward of her anchor, which kept her a little farther off our course.

We must be careful and not get into the same _cul de sac_ that we got into last trip, but I was reminded by old Charlie that I need not be surprised if we got into six feet of water, or even less, as the water would be sure to be very low on the bar in this wind. We soon found the entrance to the channel, and altered the course to W.S.W. It now required all hands, and the cook. There was barely six feet of water, the channel was narrow, and it was blowing furiously. We required to have a man taking soundings on both sides, and a good man at the helm.

On the first deepening of the water it was luff, quick, haul in sheets, and down centre-board.

She lay up the channel for a good stretch, but she was getting jambed on the western side of it. We put about, but we had scarcely gathered headway when we had to put about again, and we found that, owing to the strong wind, there was a strong current down the channel. We kept tacking, and gained a little, but the channel was getting narrower. At last we saw the light of the guard-boat, and, thinking we were safe from the blockading fleet, we dropped anchor. The noise of the chain running out was heard by those in the guard-boat, and they hailed us.

Owing to the howling of the wind, it was difficult to hear at that distance, but we understood that we were to come up to the guard-boat, as we were not safe where we lay.

To get up was no easy matter. The channel here was narrow, and a strong gale of wind was blowing right down. There was no room to tack, and, had we raised the anchor, we would have been blown out among the blockading fleet before we could have gathered headway on either tack. We must warp up; but the question was, would the warp-rope, doubled, be strong enough, and would the kedge hold? We must try it. We knew it was good holding ground, though soft.

We got up some of the furnace bars which we had as freight, and lashed them to the stock of the kedge to add to its weight; we then got out the large boat, and, having got everything prepared, we started to pull up towards the guard-boat.

The water was smooth, but the wind blew so strong that, with four stout oarsmen, it was all we could do to make headway against it.

After a hard pull the boat got up a little past the guard-boat where the kedge, loaded with its additional weight, was let down; then hanging on to the warp, the boat dropped back to the schooner.

We hove gently on the warp until the anchor chain got slack; this satisfied us that the kedge was holding. We then hove up the anchor, and hung it by a stopper from the davit, ready to let go in a moment if the warp should break. We then hove on the warp as often as the wind lulled a little, but stopped heaving during the violent gusts.

After a great deal of hard labour, we got the schooner close up to the guard-boat, when the captain of the latter hailed us and said we might anchor there. We were quite safe from any attack by boats from the blockading fleet.

We dropped anchor with right good will, congratulating ourselves that we were in safe once more, although every one at the same time avowed that blockade running was no child's play.

Having made sure that the anchor was holding, we let the warp remain out also, and, setting an anchor watch, we turned in.

We had little communication with those on the guard-boat that night. It was blowing too hard for us to hear each other.

By daylight the wind had gone down a little, the nib of the norther, as it was called, had blown off, but it still blew a pretty hard gale.

About eight o'clock the boarding officers came on board, and we passed through the usual ceremony. It being midwinter, we had a clear bill of health from Havana. There had been several steamers got in within the last month or two, but we brought the latest news by ten days.

They took a list of our cargo, which was satisfactory, and much wanted, especially the army blankets, as the weather was now cold, and we were ordered to come up to the town and get discharged as soon as possible, as the Quarter-master's Department was much in want of the goods. They took the mails, consisting of letters and newspapers, and having, as usual, taken a few samples of our stores, which they declared good, especially the liquors, they left, landing at the Forts.

We now got up anchor and stood up the bay, and anchored opposite the town about noon.

There were several steamers (blockade runners) lying at the wharf, and some of the Transport service steamers, so that we had to lay at anchor until we should be assigned a berth at the wharf.