Summary

James Otis The Armed Ship America; Or, When We Sailed from Salem

Just abaft the mizzenmast was our favourite lounging-place at such times, and there we went on this night, thinking only of those whom we had left in the ship’s hold, forgetting, for the time being, the evil predictions of Master Josh and his messmates.
I was not conscious of gazing in any one direction. In fact, there was nothing to be seen. Owing to the gloom, the men, as they moved listlessly about, appeared to be faint shadows rather than human beings, and the air was so light that we failed to distinguish the break of foam, as the waves swept either side our craft.
Source: Gutenberg

James Otis The Armed Ship America; Or, When We Sailed from Salem

Even now, as memory goes back, I am surprised that we lads were not wholly overcome by terror.
The ship staggering under canvas enough to bury her; the tempest raging and howling, eager to destroy the handiwork of man; the mutinous crew on the gun-deck plotting, perhaps, against their officers, and in the hold nineteen men ready to risk their lives in an effort to escape.
Source: Gutenberg

James Otis The Armed Ship America; Or, When We Sailed from Salem

It doesn’t seem possible either craft can stand up very long under such a press of sail. It is blowing a full gale; our decks are awash, and the ship is burying herself to such an extent that every third or fourth wave sweeps over her from stem to stern. It’s enough to make a fellow turn pale with fear, to stand there five minutes watching the surge towering on either hand, ahead and astern, even above the mastheads.
Source: Gutenberg

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