Fortunately for us, it was
from the westward, fair for the harbour of Port William, on the
Stewart's Island side of the Straits, so that we were free from
the apprehension of being blown out to sea or on a jagged lee
shore.
While we were thus thinking during a brief pause to take breath,
the old packet herself solved our last difficulty in emphatic
fashion. She gave a tremendous lee lurch, which would inevitably
have destroyed the cutting stage if we had not hoisted it,
driving right over the head, which actually rose to the surface
to windward, having passed under her bottom. The weather roll
immediately following was swift and sudden. From the nature of
things, it was evident that something must give way this time.
It did. For the first and only time in my experience, the fluke-
chain was actually torn through the piece to which it was fast
--two feet of solid gristle ripped asunder. Away went the head
with its L150 to L200 worth of pure spermaceti, disappearing from
view almost immediately.
It had no sooner gone than more sail was set, the yards were
squared, and the vessel kept away up the Straits for shelter. It
was a big improvement, for she certainly had begun to make dirty
weather of it, and no wonder.
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