I had slept well in the night, and was now no more sea-sick, but very cheerful—looking with wonder upon the sea, that was so rough and terrible the day before, and could be so calm and so pleasant in so little a time after; and now, lest my good resolutions should continue, my companion, who had indeed enticed me away, comes to me. “Well, Bob,” says he, clapping me upon the shoulder, “how do you do after it? I warrant you were frightened, weren’t you, last night, when it blew but a capful of wind?” “A capful d’ye call it?” said I, “’twas a terrible storm.” “A storm, you fool you!” replies he, “do you call that a storm? why it was nothing at all; give us but a good ship and sea-room, and we think nothing of such a squall of wind as that; but you’re but a fresh-water sailor, Bob; come, let us make a bowl of punch, and we’ll forget all that: d’ye see what charming weather ’tis now?” To make short this sad part of my story, we went the way of all sailors; the punch was made, and I was made half drunk with it, and in that one night’s wickedness I drowned all my repentance, all my reflections upon my past conduct, all my resolutions for the future. In a word, as the sea was returned to its smoothness of surface, and settled calmness, by the abatement of that storm, so, the hurry of my thoughts being over, my fears and apprehensions of being swallowed up by the sea being forgotten, and the current of my former desires returned, I entirely forgot the vows and promises that I made in my distress. I found, indeed, some intervals of reflection; and the serious thoughts did, as it were, endeavour to return again sometimes; but I shook them off, and roused myself from them, as it were from a distemper; and, applying myself to drinking and company, soon mastered the return of those fits (for so I called them); and I had, in five or six days, got a complete victory over my conscience, as any young fellow that resolved not to be troubled with it could desire. But I was to have another trial for it still; and Providence, as in such cases generally it does, resolved to leave me entirely without excuse; for if I would not take this for a deliverance, the next was to be such an one, as the worst and most hardened wretch among us would confess both the danger and the mercy.
The sixth day of our being at sea, we came into Yarmouth roads; the wind having been contrary and the weather calm, we had made but little way since the storm. Here we were obliged to come to an anchor, and here we lay, the wind continuing contrary, namely, at south-west, for seven or eight days; during which time, a great many ships from Newcastle came into the same roads, as the common harbour where the ships might wait for a wind for the river.
We had not, however, rid here so long, but we should have tided it up the river, but that the wind blew too fresh; and after we had lain four or five days, blew very hard. However, the roads being reckoned as good as a harbour, the anchorage good, and our ground-tackle very strong, our men were unconcerned, and not in the least apprehensive of danger, but spent the time in rest and mirth, after the manner of the sea; but the eighth day in the morning, the wind increased, and we had all hands at work to strike our topmasts, and make every thing snug and close, that the ship might ride as easy as possible. By noon, the sea went very high indeed, and our ship rid forecastle in, shipped several seas, and we thought once or twice our anchor had come home; upon which our master ordered out the sheet anchor; so that we rode with two anchors a-head, and the cables veered out to the better end.
By this time, it blew a terrible storm indeed; and now, I began to see terror and amazement in the faces even of the seamen themselves. The master, though vigilant in the business of preserving the ship, yet as he went in and out of his cabin by me, I could hear him, softly to himself, say several times, “Lord be merciful to us! we shall be all lost—we shall be all undone!” and the like. During these first hurries, I was stupid, lying still in my cabin, which was in the steerage, and cannot describe my temper. I could ill resume the first penitence which I had so apparently trampled upon, and hardened myself against; I thought the bitterness of death had been past; and that this would be nothing, too, like the first. But when the master himself came by me, as I said just now, and said we should be all lost, I was dreadfully frighted: I got up out of my cabin and looked out; but such a dismal sight I never saw: the sea went mountains high, and broke upon us every three or four minutes; when I could look about, I could see nothing but distress round us. Two ships that rid near us, we found, had cut their masts by the board, being deep laden; and our men cried out, that a ship, which rid about a mile a-head of us, was foundered. Two more ships, being driven from their anchors, were run out of the roads to sea, at all adventures, and that with not a mast standing. The light ships fared the best, as not so much labouring in the sea; but two or three of them drove, and came close by us, running away with only their sprit-sail out, before the wind.