Read "Driven to Bay, Volume I" by Florence Marryat online for free on Textopian. Full text with search, annotations, highlights, and AI-powered reading aids.
The _Pandora_ was a full-rigged, three-masted ship, built by the famous firm of Oswald & Company, of Glasgow and Sunderland. Her registered tonnage was 1500 tons. Her hull, lower masts, topmasts, and lower yards were built completely of iron, and her standing rigging was composed of the same material. She carried six sails on her fore and mizen masts respectively, and seven on her main. She had six topsails, six topgallantsails, and a main skipsail. She was a heavy ship to work, as nearly all her running rigging was of chain, or wire, except the hauling part, and the larger ropes, such as the topsail halliards that were of coir, and brought forth many an expressive epithet from the sailors, whose hands were often sore after a night in the doldrums. The beautiful rake of her lofty masts, the delicate curve of her narrow beam, her sharp, fish-like bows, and nicely-rounded stern, gave her a stately appearance as she rode on the waters, and suggested exciting races in heavy squalls, and a fast sea passage, with little pay to receive. Yet she was not an exceedingly fast ship. She had made the run in ninety days, and her log had told sixteen knots; but, all the same, she was a clipper, and if she had had an enterprising captain, would have held her own with most ships, and shown her heels to not a few. But the commander of the _Pandora_ did not believe in ‘cracking-on,' and his vessel had never had a chance of showing her ability. As soon as a squall appeared to windward, he clewed up his smaller sails, and would not dream of bumping with crowded sail into a head sea if the least sign of danger attended him. In this respect he was right, since his first thought was ever for the safety of his passengers and crew.
There is intense pleasure as well as excitement in sailing with a jolly, straight-forward, fearless man, who knows exactly how much sail his vessel can carry till the last minute, who drives through the squalls, sending the seas dashing over his weather bulwarks, and gushing through his lee scuppers, shivering his leeches when an extra gust bursts upon him, glorying to watch the splendid behaviour of his ship as she bends to his command. But Captain Robarts was a very different sort of man from this.