Patrick O'Brian - Desolation island

Hour after hour towards the morning watch, and hour after hour the wind increased. Twice, just after seven bells, the Leopard was very nearly pooped by a freakish bursting sea: the steady progression of the rollers was losing its regularity, becoming disordered. Eight bells

again, and he put the ship before the wind, taking in the staysails. It was impossible to get an accurate reading of the log, for the blast tossed the log-boat forward of her bows; and now the carpenter's mate reported two foot of water in the well. The Leopard had been working and straining so much that a good deal had come in through her sides, let alone that which made its way down from the decks in spite of the laid hatches and through the hawseholes in spite of the bags.

The sun rose on a sea in labour, the crests riding ahead of the swell and breaking: creaming water from horizon to horizon except in the bottom of the troughs, much deeper now; while from every height the wind tore foam, drops and solid water, driving it forward in a grey veil that darkened and filled the air. The Waakzaamheid lay within two miles. And now the extreme danger of sailing in a very heavy swell became more and more apparent: in the troughs, the valleys between the waves, the Leopard was almost becalmed, while on the crest the full force of the wind struck her, threatening to tear her sails from their boltropes or to carry away her masts: even worse, she lost some of her way at the bottom, whereas she needed all her speed to outrun the following seas, for if they were to overtake her she would be pooped, smothered in a mass of breaking water. Then ten to one she would slew round and broach to, presenting her broadside to the wind, so that the next sea would overwhelm her.

This was by no means the worst sea Jack had known; it was still far from the total chaos of a ten-days' blow - enormous waves with a fetch 'of a thousand miles running into one another, rising mountainhigh, breaking, tumbling and bursting with enormous force - but it looked as though it might build up into something of the same kind; and already the Waokzaamileid was showing how much the larger ship was favoured. Her higher masts, her greater mass, meant that she lost less way when partially becalmed, and she was now not much more than a mile

away: yet on the other hand she had either taken in or lost her odd triangles.

An albatross glided down the starboard side, turned on the wind and shot across the wake, picking something from the surface as it flew; and it was only when he saw the brilliant flash of its wings that he realized how yellow the foam was in fact. Even at this time of great concentration on his ship and the countless forces acting upon her he was astonished at the bird's perfect control, at the way its gleaming twelve-foot wings lifted it without the least effort and sent it flanking across the oncoming sea in an easy, unhurried curve. "I wish Stephen could . . .' he was thinking as the Leopard climbed the crest ahead, but a crack forward and the sound of threshing canvas cut him short. The foretopsail had split. "Clew up, clew up," he cried - there was a chance of saving it. "Halliards, there. Maintopsail.' He ran forward, calling for the bosun. No bosun, but Cullen, the captain of the foretop, was at the mast, and the bosun's mates: they secured the topsail, the yard lowered on the cap, while the ship plunged down the long slope among the smother of the breaking crest. The close-reefed maintopsail kept the Leopard ahead of the following seas after no more than a few minutes' hesitation, but it was too far aft for the ideal thrust - her speed was not so great, and she might steer wild.

It was still possible to bend another foretopsail. "Pass the word for the bosun," he shouted, and at last the man came stumbling aft: drunk, not dead drunk, but incapable. "Get along forward," said Jack to him: and to his older mate, "Arklow, carry on. Number two foretopsail, and the best robins in the store."

A cruel struggle out there on the yard, cruel and long, fighting with canvas animated by such a force, but they bent the sail at last and came down, hands bleeding, the men looking as though they had been flogged.

"Go below," said Jack. "Get your hands bound up: tell

purser's steward I say you are to have a tot apiece, and something warm.,

Leaning over the rail, his eyes half-shut against the driving spray, he saw that the Waakzaamheid was now within a thousand yards. He shrugged: no ship, no first-rate, not even a Spanish four-decker, could show her broadside in such a sea. "Mr Grant,"he said, "let the pumps be rigged: we are steering rather heavy.'Then, with a look at the new foretopsail, tight as a drum, he went below for a bite himself.

Like the Dutch captain, Killick seemed able to read his thoughts: coffee and a pHe of ham sandwiches were carrying in as Jack hung his streaming sou' wester on its peg and walked into the gloomy cabin, where he sat on a locker by the starboard gun. Not a gleam came in from the stern windows, their glass replaced by solid wood; and even the skylight had a tarpaulin over it.

"Thankee, Killick," he said, after a first ravenous gulp. "Any news of the Doctor?"

"No, your honour. Only howls, and Mr Herapath took poorly. It must be worse before it can get better; that is what I always say."

"No doubt, no doubt,"said Jack uneasily, and he applied himself to the sandwiches: thick cold pancake instead of bread, but welcome. Slowly champing, he mused on women, their hard lot; on the curse of Eve; on Sophie; on his daughters, growing fast. An immense crash of splintering wood, a surge of flying spray, a flood of light, and a spent cannon-ball broke in upon his thought. He peered out through the broken deadlights and saw another flash in the Waakzaamheid's bows. No sound in this universal roar, and the smoke was swept instantly away, but it was clear that the seventy-four had opened up with her chasers, trained sharp forward from the bridle-ports in her bluff bows and that a lucky shot had struck right home, smashing his coffee-cup - a chance in a million.

"Killick, another cup," he called, carrying the rest of his

breakfast into the dining-cabin. "And let Chips come aft."

"I had never expected that today," he said to himself. Certainly the aim of warfare was the destruction of the enemy, and he had seen French ships totally destroyed in fleet-engagements; but in single-ship actions the idea of capture usually predominated. lie had expected the seventy-four to hunt him down and take him, or try to take him, when the weather moderated: in this sea there was no possibility of capture and the Dutch captain's intent could only be to kill. Any engagement must mean the total loss of the first ship to lose a mast or a vital sail and thus the control of her run: the death of every soul aboard her. "A bloody-minded man, I see."

He did not spend long below, but how things had changed when he next came on deck! It was not that the wind was greater - indeed, there was a slight but certain lessening - but that the sea had grown steeper still. And the ship was labouring now, heavy on the rise, although the chain-pumps were shooting a great gush of water over her side. The stormj1b would have to come in: it was pressing her down, and in any case the boom was whipping like a bow. "Mr Grant, we will get in the storm-jib and goose-wing the maincourse."

"Surely, sir . . .'began the older man - he looked much older now - but went no further.

With the thrust lower, the Leopard fairly wallowed in the deeper troughs; yet her speed was still so great that she could certainly avoid the following seas with skilful handling: Jack named a team of men to take the wheel, prime seamen, four at a time, two glasses to a trick. The danger was more the shock when the wind took her full on the crests, and ordinarily Jack would have had her under a close-reefed foretopsail alone or even less - just enough to keep her ahead. But with the Waakzaamheid creeping up he dared not take more in; nor could he haul up the jib again. If this went on he would have to compensate the lack of thrust by lightening the load: he would have to