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Joshua Slocum - Sailing Alone Around The World
13th of the month, and 13 is my lucky number - a fact registered long before Dr. Nansen sailed in search
of the north pole with his crew of thirteen. Perhaps he had heard of my success in taking a most
extraordinary ship successfully to Brazil with that number of crew. The very stones on Briar's Island I
was glad to see again, and I knew them all. The little shop round the corner, which for thirty-five years I
had not seen, was the same, except that it looked a deal smaller. It wore the same shingles - I was sure of
it; for did not I know the roof where we boys, night after night, hunted for the skin of a black cat, to be
taken on a dark night, to make a plaster for a poor lame man? Lowry the tailor lived there when boys
were boys. In his day he was fond of the gun. He always carried his powder loose in the tail pocket of his
coat. He usually had in his mouth a short dudeen; but in an evil moment he put the dudeen, lighted, in the
pocket among the powder. Mr. Lowry was an eccentric man.
At Briar's Island I overhauled the Spray once more and tried her seams, but found that even the
test of the sou'west rip had started nothing. Bad weather and much head wind prevailing outside, I was in
no hurry to round Cape Sable. I made a short excursion with some friends to St. Mary's Bay, an old
cruising-ground, and back to the island. Then I sailed, putting into Yarmouth the following day on
account of fog and head wind. I spent some days pleasantly enough in Yarmouth, took in some butter for
the voyage, also a barrel of potatoes, filled six barrels of water, and stowed all under deck. At Yarmouth,
too, I got my famous tin clock, the only timepiece I carried on the whole voyage. The price of it was a
dollar and a half, but on account of the face being smashed the merchant let me have it for a dollar.
CHAPTER III
Good-by to the American coast - Off Sable Island in a fog - In the open sea - The man in the moon takes
an interest in the voyage - The first fit of loneliness - The Spray encounters La Vaguisa -
A bottle of wine from the Spaniard - A bout of words with the captain of the Java - The
steamship Olympia spoken - Arrival at the Azores.
I now stowed all my goods securely, for the boisterous Atlantic was before me, and I sent the topmast
down, knowing that the Spray would be the wholesomer with it on deck. Then I gave the
lanyards a pull and hitched them afresh, and saw that the gammon was secure, also that the boat was
lashed, for even in summer one may meet with bad weather in the crossing.
In fact, many weeks of bad weather had prevailed. On July 1, however, after a rude gale, the wind came
out nor'west and clear, propitious for a good run. On the following day, the head sea having gone down, I
sailed from Yarmouth, and let go my last hold on America. The log of my first day on the Atlantic in
the Spray reads briefly: "9:30 A.M. sailed from Yarmouth. 4:30 P.M. passed Cape Sable;
distance, three cables from the land. The sloop making eight knots. Fresh breeze N.W." Before the sun
went down I was taking my supper of strawberries and tea in smooth water under the lee of the east-coast
land, along which the Spray was now leisurely skirting.
At noon on July 3 Ironbound Island was abeam. The Spray was again at her best. A large
schooner came out of Liverpool, Nova Scotia, this morning, steering eastward. The Spray put her
hull down astern in five hours. At 6:45 P.M. I was in close under Chebucto Head light, near Halifax
harbor. I set my flag and squared away, taking my departure from George's Island before dark to sail east
of Sable Island. There are many beacon lights along the coast. Sambro, the Rock of Lamentations, carries
a noble light, which, however, the liner Atlantic, on the night of her terrible disaster, did not see.
I watched light after light sink astern as I sailed into the unbounded sea, till Sambro, the last of them all,
was below the horizon. The Spray was then alone, and sailing on, she held her course. July 4, at 6
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