tch, and the
seas follow in great height, they are apt to curl fairly on board, and
play fine pranks along the decks, even if the violence of the blow on
the quarter do not broach the ship to, that is, twist her head round
towards the wind in such a way that the next sea shall break over her
gangway, and in all probability sweep away the masts. In small vessels
it becomes a most anxious period of the gale when the sea has got up
so much that it is difficult to steer steadily, and when the wind
blows so strong that enough sail cannot be carried to keep the ship
sufficiently ahead of the waves, except at the risk of tearing the
masts away. When the requisite degree of speed cannot be secured, the
inevitable consequence, sooner or later, is, that a monstrous
pea-green solid sea walks most unceremoniously on board, over the
taffrail, and dashes along the decks like those huge debacles, of
which some geologists so confidently point out the traces on the
earth's surface.

I never happened actually to witness a catastrophe of this kind on the
great scale, though I have seen one or two smartish gales in my time.
Indeed the most serious evils I recollect to have been present at
occurred on board the Volage, on the very passage to India which I am
now describing. The following are the words in which these incidents
are noticed in my journal:--

"On the 13th of July, off the Cape of Good Hope, in the midst of a
heavy winter's gale, our worthy passenger, Sir Evan Nepean, governor
of Bombay, was thrown down the ladder, by the violent rolling of the
ship; and another gentleman, the Baron Tuyll, the best-natured and
deservedly popular passenger I ever saw afloat, was very nearly
washed out of his cot by a sea which broke into the stern windows of
the captain's cabin."

I have often enough been close to wars and rumours of wars, but was
never in a regular sea-fight; and though I have also witnessed a few
shipwrecks and disasters, I never was myself in much danger of what
might be honestly called a lee shore; neither is it my good fortune to
be able to recount, from personal knowledge, any scenes of hardship or
suffering from hunger, cold, or any other misery. My whole
professional life, in short, has been one of such comparative ease and
security, that I cannot now remember ever going far beyond twenty-four
hours without a good bellyful. Still I have often been forced to take
a high degree of interest in formidable adventures of th