With Porter in the Essex

He looked up, smiled oddly, and then, after a show of hesitation called: —

"Ezra McKnight! Philip Robbins!"

"You're a beauty!" Phil whispered, as he ran past me on his way below to get the musket and ammunition, and my only regret at that moment was because I could not thank my cousin for the favor he had done us.

We two lads tumbled into the gig alongside Master Hackett, who asked gruffly: —

"What is the lieutenant thinkin' of to send a couple of infants out on a job like this?"

"Perhaps it would be a good idea for you to ask him; I don't care to take the chances of so doing, even though your curiosity is not satisfied," I said pertly. "If shooting is to be done, which seems reasonable after we've been ordered to arm ourselves, I reckon the 'infants' can do as much as some others who are older."

Master Hackett did not reply; but by the movements of his mouth I knew he was not so displeased but that he was trying to hide a smile.

Just then Stephen McKnight stepped aboard the gig, and as he did so Captain Porter cried over the rail: —

"Remember, McKnight, that you are not to make any effort at boarding, however tempting may be the opportunity. Get ahead of the chase and drive in her boats, after which you will return as soon as possible."

"I understand, sir," Stephen replied, and then came the order to "give way with a will."

Phil and I were not counted among the oarsmen, as I saw when the work was begun; but we did a trifle toward helping the good work along by pushing on Master Hackett's oar, and he made no effort to prevent us, even though we were "infants."

It would not have been good seamanship to go any nearer the enemy than was necessary, in the effort to get ahead of her, therefore we made a wide sweep around to port; and when we were opposite, not more than three hundred yards distant, her gunners let fly a couple of pieces which had been loaded with grape.

The whistling of the shot, which struck everywhere around us, sent the cold shivers up and down my back; but I pushed on Master Hackett's oar all the harder, keeping my eyes fixed straight ahead lest the old man should read in them more than I cared to have him know.

Phil started ever so slightly; but managed to hold himself firm after that, and each of us knew that the other was sorely afraid, although it is certain neither would have gone back had the opportunity presented itself.

We were treated to more grape, the biggest portion of which passed over our heads, and after that second volley I somehow forgot that I was frightened; but loaded my musket carefully, hoping the time would soon come when I could do a little to help balance the account.

Soon we were out of range of the grape, and then we ran across the ship's bow, every man loading and discharging his musket at the crew of the towing-boats as rapidly as possible.

"They can't stand that kind of a game very long," Master Hackett said, as he wounded one of the Britishers in the foremost boat. "They've come out to pull an oar an' ain't in shape for a fight, so it don't stand to reason they'll hold their ground a great while."

The British oarsmen were already beginning to slacken their pace, and I looked astern to make out what our people counted on doing while we lay there preventing the work of towing.

The sight was one to warm the blood even of a coward. All our boats were out and being manned rapidly, and I had no need to ask what would be the next move.

"Ay, lad, the captain is goin' to board her," Master Hackett said quietly, when I called his attention to the frigate. "I counted the old man would be at that fun mighty soon after we'd got into position, an' the worst of it is that we don't have a hand in the scrimmage."

We soon learned to our sorrow that we had a scrimmage of our own which would occupy us in good shape so long as the towing-boats were kept out.

The Britishers had brought two guns on the forecastle-deck, and began giving us our medicine just as the Essex's crew were pulling away from her side.

The first discharge did us no damage; but it was not difficult to guess that after the gunners once got our range we would suffer severely, and again I had hard work to prevent showing the white feather.

The grape came nearer and nearer, the gunners working the pieces faster than I had ever thought could be possible, and we kept peppering away at the men in the boats, firing so lively that soon they were driven in; but it had cost two of our fellows slight wounds.

The grapeshot would settle our business very speedily, I believed, unless our boarding party came along soon, and I looked anxiously astern.

The oars flashed in the water at the rate of forty strokes a minute, and our men were cheering lustily as they thought of adding another to the long list of prizes credited to the Essex.

Now the grape was coming with truer aim; two of our oars had been sheered off close to the rail, as neatly as if done by an axe, and it seemed certain some one of us would soon lose the number of his mess; yet, strange to say, I was not so terribly frightened as the situation warranted.

"The boarders will soon be goin' over the Britisher's rail, an' then comes the time for us to pull a little nearer," Master Hackett whispered to me, as if thinking I needed cheering. "Take aim at the gunners, an' it'll make you a heap easier in mind if you can knock one over."

I discharged my musket with careful aim, and then looked over my shoulder while reloading to ascertain whether the rest of our people were coming up.

The boats from the Essex were making rapid way over the water, the spray from their bows glittering in the sunlight like diamonds, and the enemy now turned his attention from us ahead to those who were so rapidly overhauling him from astern.

A full broadside was fired at the boarders, but the heavy shot passed over their heads without doing any damage, and we in advance added our shouts of joy to those of the boarding party.

The Britishers must have turned cowardly as they saw our men coming toward them without heed to their fire, and in another instant we were yelling at the full strength of our lungs, as the English flag was hauled down in token of surrender.

"The 'luck of the Essex' still holds good," Master Hackett cried gleefully. "Yonder ship will show well among our fleet, an' it's a pity we can't give her a crew of decent size."

The boats which we had been trying to drive in were now called alongside, and our people were coming hand over hand to take possession, when a breeze from the eastward sprang up like a squall, filling the sails of the prize in an instant.

Before I was well aware of what had happened the Britisher was hauled up close on the wind. Her colors were hoisted again, and off she went to the northward like a flash, leaving the boarding party astern as if their craft had been anchored.

Just for an instant I believed the enemy would succeed in running down those of us who were in the gig and whale-boat. She came up until we were close under her forefoot; but the helmsman could not bring her nearer, and we swept astern like a flash.

It was well for us that she came so close, otherwise we might have been knocked to flinders, for no less than six charges of grape were fired point-blank at our boats; but the missiles passed over our heads, and, instead of congratulating themselves upon the escape from instant death, the men grumbled long and loud because we had lost the first ship which by rights should have been made a prize.

"If that 'ere squall had held off five minutes longer, we'd have been in possession," Master Hackett said in a tone so sorrowful that one could well believe the tears were very near his eyelids.

To Phil and me it was most singular, this seeing one ship filling away with all the wind she needed, and another, our frigate, lying no more than four miles distant with not breeze enough to lift the vane at her masthead.

The only thing which prevented our men from having a desperate fit of the sulks was the belief that when the Essex did get the wind she would make chase; but as the hours wore on we understood that the Britisher was really lost to us, for this time at least.

It was near to nine o'clock in the evening before the last of our boats was hoisted inboard, and, owing to the darkness which hid the enemy from view, it was useless to think of making sail.

We laid hove to until our consorts came up, and then the fleet was kept jogging to and fro in the hope that when morning came the "luck of the Essex" would show us the Britisher.

We were doomed to disappointment, however, so far as this particular craft was concerned, for when day broke not a sail was to be seen.

Captain Porter did all a commander should do under the circumstances. During three days we cruised to the northward and eastward, and at the end of that time there was no longer any question, even in the minds of the most sanguine, but that the Britisher had given us the slip.

Once this unpleasant fact was impressed upon him beyond the shadow of a doubt, Captain Porter hauled away for James's Island, where we had good reason to believe more British whalers might be found.

Not a sail was to be seen in the little bay when we entered on the 4th day of August; but, believing the men would be the better for a short cruise ashore, our commander gave the word to anchor.

Next morning, before a single man had time to ask for liberty, it was reported by one of the gunners that a goodly portion of the powder which we had brought with us from the United States, had been damaged by water while we were doubling the Horn. But for the fact that this particular man was nosing around where he really had no business to be, the Essex might have gone into action only to discover, when it was too late, that she had nothing with which to fight.

"What will we do?" I asked of Master Hackett when our misfortune was known on the gun-deck. "We're not likely to come across ammunition in these waters, unless by taking more prizes; and it begins to appear as if we'd driven all the Britishers away."

"It ain't as bad as it might be, lad, although I allow it's rough enough. Accordin' to all accounts the Seringapatam has enough aboard, although when the Essex takes what she needs, it'll leave Lieutenant Downes well-nigh helpless."

It was a disaster so great, that not a man so much as thought of asking for shore leave, and on the gun-deck we gathered to discuss the sudden change of affairs until word was brought that one watch might land to enjoy themselves, at the same time that they took in a supply of wood and water.

After a short run on the island the men succeeded in putting from their minds all thoughts of the discovery made by the meddlesome gunner, believing that Captain Porter would succeed, no one knew how, in supplying the lack of powder.

During more than two weeks we lay at James's Island, bringing in supplies of pork, water, and wood, and during all that time not a single sail hove in sight.

Then came the word, on the evening of August 21, that the fleet would proceed to Banks's Bay, and next morning we were under way, making the run in thirty-six hours.

No sooner had the ship been brought to anchor than we understood how Captain Porter proposed to supply us with ammunition. It was reported, by one of the marines, as a matter of course, that the Essex would on the next morning make a short cruise by herself, leaving the prizes in the bay.

Our old shellbacks were perfectly satisfied on hearing this news. The only way in which more powder could be procured, was by taking it from the Britishers, and we had no doubt but that we should soon pick up an armed whaler who would be forced to supply us.

Well, to make a long story short, we cruised from the 24th of August until the 15th of September without seeing anything in the form of a sailing craft, and all hands were growing discouraged when, in the early morning, a ship was reported apparently lying to a long distance to the southward, and to windward.

There was no hope of coming up with her if we began the business boldly, for she had a big advantage of us in position; therefore our commander set about playing a trick which might bring the stranger into our hands with but little labor.

Our light yards were sent down, and the frigate otherwise disguised until she had much the look of a whaler. Then she was slowly kept turning to windward, each moment drawing nearer the Britisher, for by this time we had settled in our minds that the stranger was one of the enemy's ships.

This trick worked to a charm, and by noon we were so near that it was possible to see that our intended prize was fast to a whale, which she was cutting in, at the same time drifting rapidly down on us.

An hour later we were no more than four miles apart, and then it was that the Britisher began to scent our trick. He had come to the conclusion that a big ship like ours, even though she might be a whaler, would not loaf around in that fashion unless for mischief; and once this idea was in his head the skipper cast off from his prize, making all sail to windward.

There was no longer any reason why we should keep the disguise. Our yards were hoisted once more, and with everything drawing we began the chase, each man of our crew watching the progress eagerly, for the capture of this ship meant something more than taking a prize. We could see that she was pierced with six ports on a side, and it was reasonable to suppose that on board was powder enough to provide us with as much as might be needed until another armed Britisher could be overhauled.

Not until four o'clock in the afternoon did we come near enough to pitch a few shots ahead and over her, when she hove to under our lee, and a mighty shout of mingled satisfaction and triumph went up from the crew.

This prize was the Sir Andrew Hammond, of three hundred and one tons, twelve guns, and thirty-one men.

And now comes the odd part of the capture: From the time our ship had brought her well in sight the men declared that she had a familiar look; and when finally she came to within half a mile of us, Master Hackett cried joyously: —

"We haven't outrun our luck, an' that's a fact! Yonder craft is the same we lost in the squall – the one that gave us such a long job with nothin' but a few broken oars to show for it!"

That the old seaman had spoken only the truth we all understood now it had been suggested; the ship lying under our lee was none other than the last we had chased and lost, but only to find again on this day when we were growing discouraged with much useless cruising.

The Hammond proved to be a rich prize for us just at that time, for she had on board a large supply of prime beef, pork, bread, wood, and water, and none of such stores would be wasted. The ammunition was in good condition, but not of such quantity as to satisfy us; however, half a loaf is better than none at all, and after taking the prisoners on board the Essex, leaving a small prize crew to handle the new addition to our fleet, we made sail for Banks's Bay.

We had hardly more than arrived there and overhauled the Hammond, than the Essex Junior came into port on her return from Valparaiso, where she had left the prizes to be sold.

She reported that five or six heavy frigates had been sent out from England to search for us, and, what seemed of more importance at the time, that the Chilian government was no longer as friendly to us as when we left port. The Britishers had most likely been threatening them.

"Well," Master Hackett said deliberately, when the news I have set down above was made known on the gun-deck, "if we had all the powder that our fleet needs, I reckon we could afford to wait for the Britishers, an', what's more, flog the whole boilin' of 'em when they come. But seein's how we ain't in condition for heavy work, it's bound to be a case of twistin' an' turnin' till we can clean up our job of capturin' whalers."

"What then, Master Hackett?" Phil asked.

"What then, lad? Why, I reckon we'll have to take our medicine like little men; an' in the swallowin' of it we'll know what British prison ships are like."

"Then you don't believe we can double the Horn without coming upon some of them?" I asked, my spine growing chilly for an instant.

"I'm allowin' that the old frigate will see her finish this side the cape, for it ain't good sense to believe she can fight her way through. I've said all along that the Britishers were bound to smash us some day, 'cause it don't stand to reason a nation what claims to rule the sea can afford to let a little craft like ours play hob with 'em in such fashion as we've been doin'. For the sake of their reputation they've got to gather us in."

It could plainly be seen that the majority of our crew held the same opinion as did Master Hackett, and yet I failed to discover anything which looked like fear. The men were satisfied that they had worked the game for all there was in it, and now believed the day to be near at hand when we'd be forced to haul down the stars and stripes, although I venture to say that never one of them fancied it would be brought about in such a cowardly fashion as finally was the case.

The marines soon brought important news to us of the gun-deck. They reported that Captain Porter and his officers had decided to make port somewhere among the Marquesas, that group of islands in the Pacific concerning which so little was known at the time.

We were to search for some secluded harbor, so the marines declared, and there refit the fleet for the homeward bound voyage, which was to be begun at the earliest possible moment, in the faint hope that we might save the frigate from those who were coming in such force to capture her.

Two days afterward, when the stores from the Sir Andrew Hammond had been distributed among the vessels of the fleet, all the craft were ordered to get under way, and we set out to find a natural dockyard, for it must be remembered that ships cannot remain long at sea without gathering so much marine growth on their bottoms that the swiftest soon becomes a sluggish sailer.

It was to scrape the hulls, paint all the woodwork and put it in condition for that battle with the elements which awaited us off Cape Horn, if we succeeded in getting there, and otherwise make ready for whatever might be before us, that we set off in search of a hiding-place which should at the time serve as a dock for refitting our battered fleet.

CHAPTER VIII

NUKUHEVA

We set sail from Banks's Bay October 2, in company with the Essex Junior and our prizes, but the latter were such slow sailers as compared with the frigate that we did not make the group of the Marquesas until the 23d, when we ran here and there seeking such a harbor as would admit of our performing the work the captain counted on doing.

Not until four days more had passed did we find that which seemed to suit us in every particular, and then the fleet came to anchor in a fine bay at the island of Nukuheva.

Now a word in regard to the spelling of the island's name. My cousin, Lieutenant McKnight, gave it as set down above; but I have since seen it written "Nooaheevah," and "Noukahiva," therefore the reader, if it so chances that any one ever reads what has cost me so much time to set down, may take his choice of the names. I believe, however, that it should be written Nukuheva, because my cousin, the lieutenant, told me so.

And now, before I relate anything concerning our visit to this island, which proved to be so full of adventure, I ask permission to copy here that which I read many years afterward, and this I do because it would be impossible otherwise to describe the beautiful place – the most beautiful I have ever seen.

That which follows was written by a sailor1 who spent many months on the island, and was fortunate in being able to describe in a most entertaining manner everything he saw, which is by long odds more than I can do.

"The cluster comprising the islands of Roohka, Ropo, and Nukuheva were altogether unknown to the world until the year 1791, when they were discovered by Captain Ingraham of Boston, nearly two centuries after the discovery of the adjacent islands by the agent of the Spanish viceroy.

"Nukuheva is the most important of these islands, being the only one at which ships are much in the habit of touching, and is celebrated as being the place where the adventurous Captain Porter refitted his ships during the late war between England and the United States, and whence he sallied out upon the large whaling fleet then sailing under the enemy's flag in the surrounding seas. This island is about twenty miles in length and nearly as many in breadth. It has three good harbors on its coast; the largest and best of which is called by the people living in its vicinity, 'Tyohee,' and by Captain Porter was denominated Massachusetts Bay. Among the adverse tribes dwelling about the shores of the other bays, and by all voyagers, it is generally known by the name bestowed upon the island itself – Nukuheva.

"In the bay of Nukuheva was the anchorage we desired to reach. We had perceived the loom of the mountains about sunset; so that after running all night with a very light breeze, we found ourselves close in with the island the next morning; but as the bay we sought lay on its farther side, we were obliged to sail some distance along the shore, catching, as we proceeded, short glimpses of blooming valleys, deep glens, waterfalls, and waving groves, hidden here and there by projecting and rocky headlands, every moment opening to the view some new and startling scene of beauty.

"Those who for the first time visit the South Seas, generally are surprised at the appearance of the islands when beheld from the sea. From the vague accounts we sometimes have of their beauty, many people are apt to picture to themselves enamelled and softly swelling plains, shaded over with delicious groves, and watered by purling brooks, and the entire country but little elevated above the surrounding ocean. The reality is very different; bold rock-bound coasts with the surf beating high against the lofty cliffs, and broken here and there into deep inlets which open to the view thickly wooded valleys separated by the spurs of mountains clothed with tufted grass, and sweeping down toward the sea from an elevated and furrowed interior, form the principal features of these islands.

"… As we slowly advanced up the bay, numerous canoes pushed off from the surrounding shores, and we were soon in the midst of quite a flotilla of them, their savage occupants struggling to get aboard of us, and jostling one another in their ineffectual attempts.

"Occasionally the projecting outriggers of their slight shallops, running foul of one another, would become entangled beneath the water, threatening to capsize the canoes, when a scene of confusion would ensue that baffles description. Such strange outcries and passionate gesticulations I never certainly heard or saw before. You would have thought the islanders were on the point of flying at one another's throats, whereas they were only amicably engaged in disentangling their boats.

"Scattered here and there among the canoes might be seen numbers of cocoanuts floating closely together in circular groups, and bobbing up and down with every wave. By some inexplicable means these cocoanuts were all steadily approaching toward the ship. As I leaned curiously over the side, endeavoring to solve their mysterious movements, one mass far in advance of the rest attracted my attention. In its centre was something I could take for nothing less than a cocoanut, but which I certainly considered one of the most extraordinary specimens of the fruit I had ever seen. It kept twirling and dancing about among the rest in the most singular manner, and as it grew nearer I thought it bore a remarkable resemblance to the brown shaven skull of one of the savages. Presently it betrayed a pair of eyes, and soon I became aware that what I had supposed to have been one of the fruit was nothing else than the head of an Islander, who had adopted this singular method of bringing his produce to market. The cocoanuts were all attached to one another by strips of the husk, partly torn from the shell and rudely fashioned together. Their proprietor, inserting his head into the midst of them, impelled his necklace of cocoanuts through the water by striking out beneath the surface with his feet.