PART FIVE: My Sea Adventure
Chapter 24: The Cruise of the Coracle
(continued)
"Clumsy fellows," said I; "they must still be drunk as
owls." And I thought how Captain Smollett would have
set them skipping.
Meanwhile the schooner gradually fell off and filled
again upon another tack, sailed swiftly for a minute or
so, and brought up once more dead in the wind's eye.
Again and again was this repeated. To and fro, up and
down, north, south, east, and west, the HISPANIOLA
sailed by swoops and dashes, and at each repetition
ended as she had begun, with idly flapping canvas. It
became plain to me that nobody was steering. And if
so, where were the men? Either they were dead drunk or
had deserted her, I thought, and perhaps if I could get
on board I might return the vessel to her captain.
The current was bearing coracle and schooner southward
at an equal rate. As for the latter's sailing, it was
so wild and intermittent, and she hung each time so
long in irons, that she certainly gained nothing, if
she did not even lose. If only I dared to sit up and
paddle, I made sure that I could overhaul her. The
scheme had an air of adventure that inspired me, and
the thought of the water breaker beside the fore
companion doubled my growing courage.
Up I got, was welcomed almost instantly by another
cloud of spray, but this time stuck to my purpose and
set myself, with all my strength and caution, to paddle
after the unsteered HISPANIOLA. Once I shipped a
sea so heavy that I had to stop and bail, with my heart
fluttering like a bird, but gradually I got into the
way of the thing and guided my coracle among the waves,
with only now and then a blow upon her bows and a dash
of foam in my face.
I was now gaining rapidly on the schooner; I could see
the brass glisten on the tiller as it banged about, and
still no soul appeared upon her decks. I could not
choose but suppose she was deserted. If not, the men
were lying drunk below, where I might batten them down,
perhaps, and do what I chose with the ship.
|