DESPITE THE FORECAST of the captain and mate of Cormorant the second day of the voyage was no smoother than the first had been. Agnes Leyland rose from her bunk and dressed but did not venture outside the cabin and seemed content to eat little more than dry bread and drink only water, supplemented at the end of the day with a couple of tots of brandy.
Nevertheless, she felt fit enough to criticise much of what Eliza did for her. Aware that his wife’s criticism was unjustified, Captain Leyland took Eliza aside and assured her there was nothing wrong with her standard of work. He suggested it was the continuing bad weather that was the cause of his wife’s irritability.
Eliza was grateful to him for at least troubling to make an attempt to explain away his wife’s ingratitude for all that was being done for her. At the same time she realised that Agnes was by nature a difficult woman.
Although Eliza was relieved to be separated from the other convicts she believed that the voyage to Australia, which would take at the very least three months, might seem even longer.
Her only bright moment came when she was sent on an errand from the cabin and met up with Jim Macleish, the burly elderly mate who had befriended her from the beginning of the voyage. A fatherly figure, he had served with Captain Leyland for many years. Having known Agnes too for as long as she and the ship’s captain had been married, he was well aware of her shortcomings.
Macleish told Eliza that Cormorant would be leaving the English Channel behind sometime during the next night and heading out into the Atlantic. He said the barometer was dropping, an indication of more bad weather to come, adding that it would probably result in Agnes Leyland being laid low once more.
Sure enough, when the ship cleared the English Channel after dark and turned on to a southerly course, those on board began to feel the effect of the powerful waves sweeping in from the vastness of the Atlantic Ocean.
Agnes showed little sign of acquiring ‘sea legs’ and after complaining bitterly about the instability of her husband’s ship took to her bunk and soon fell into a sleep induced by a considerable amount of brandy.
Captain Leyland was seated at his desk writing up the ship’s log, while at his suggestion Eliza was stowing away everything that could be dislodged if the weather deteriorated any more, when a rain and spray-soaked mate entered the cabin after only a cursory knock.
With water dripping from his oilskins on to the wooden decking Macleish glanced at the still figure in the bunk then, his voice lowered said, ‘I thought I should tell you, Cap’n, the barometer’s gone crazy and pressure has almost dropped off the scale. Something big is on the way and I’m worried about Cormorant being able to cope with it on our planned course. The swell is increasing too and if it gets any rougher we’ll be in very real danger of rolling over.’
Walking to where a barometer was screwed to the bulkhead of the cabin, Captain Leyland tapped the instrument’s glass with a forefinger and the pointer immediately dropped in an anti-clockwise direction.
‘Damn! I should have remembered the pointer has a habit of sticking. You’re right, Jim, it’s fallen dramatically since I last checked it. We’re in for a really bad storm. What do you think we ought to do, take in all sail, put out a sea anchor and ride it out?’
The concerned mate drew the back of his hand across his forehead to clear some of the water that was running down into his eyes, ‘I think we need to do more than that, Cap’n, I’ve never seen such an alarming drop in the barometer in all my time at sea.’
Captain Leyland had known Jim Macleish for many years and was aware the mate was not a man prone to over-dramatising a situation. ‘Are you suggesting we should turn and run for safety, Jim?’
‘If we don’t – and leave it any longer – it might be too late. We’d turn turtle. As it is we’ll need to choose our moment very carefully.’
Convinced by the mate’s words, Captain Leyland said, ‘Right, Jim, call all hands on deck. We’ll use the wind to help us turn, but too much sail and we’ll go over anyway. God knows where we’re likely to find shelter in this weather, but we need to try.’
‘Falmouth would be the best bet,’ Macleish said, ‘but this wind and sea is likely to send us north of Land’s End. That leaves only the north Cornish coast and I’d rather keep well clear of that in such weather.’
While the two men were having their discussion Cormorant’s captain had been putting on his oilskins. Now he turned to Eliza, ‘Secure anything that could possibly fall – then stay by Mrs Leyland and make sure she doesn’t fall out of the bunk. Cormorant will be all over the place while we are changing course.’
Eliza had been listening wide-eyed to the conversation of the two men. It frightened her, and Macleish was aware of her fear. Speaking to her reassuringly, he said, ‘Don’t worry, Eliza, it’s going to be very uncomfortable for a while but Cormorant’s a fine ship, we’ll make it …’
At that moment another wave crashed down upon them and the ship rose slowly from beneath the many tons of sea water, shuddering alarmingly as it shook off the water in the manner of a wet and ageing terrier.
‘I’d better get the men up on deck,’ Macleish said.
‘I’ll come with you,’ said the ship’s captain. Pausing at the door he spoke to Eliza again. ‘Remember what I said. Don’t leave the cabin – and make certain Mrs Leyland remains here too.’
For the next few minutes Eliza worked feverishly to complete the task of securing moveable objects, jamming them wherever she could find space in cupboards or drawers. The erratic movements of Cormorant did not help her task and she lost count of the times she was thrown off balance and fell heavily against cabin furniture.
She thought her body would collect a great many bruises by the time the storm was over but fervently believed that if it suffered no more than bruises she would have reason to be grateful.
Eliza was amazed that Agnes Leyland was sleeping through the turbulence, but the bunk she was in had high sides to prevent her being pitched out and she had been exhausted by her long bout of sea sickness. This, coupled with the brandy she had drunk, had left her in a state of near unconsciousness.
It seemed a long time before there was any relief at all in the ship’s movements, in fact, Eliza felt it was actually worsening. Meanwhile, on deck Macleish, with another seaman, had joined the coxswain at the ship’s wheel, standing by to help when the rudder needed to be put hard over, fighting wind and sea for the 180 degree turn that would set the ship on a course towards the Cornish coast.
At last Captain Leyland discerned a momentary lull in the ferocity of the storm and gave the order to turn the ship about.
Every available man hauled desperately on ropes to change the configuration of the few sails that were set, while mate, coxswain and their helper heaved on the ship’s wheel, which in turn moved the rudder to challenge the might of the sea.
For long moments it appeared their combined efforts would be in vain then, as the ship’s bow rose on a wave, Cormorant suddenly heeled over, tilting so far the sailors on board feared it was about to capsize, but the ship successfully rode the wave, the stern slewing around as it slithered into a deep trough – and Cormorant righted itself.
The progress of the vessel was still influenced by the ceaseless motion of the sea combined with the fury of the wind but to those on board it felt less violent and, above the noise of the storm, Eliza thought she heard a cheer from the crew on the deck above the captain’s cabin.
It was another half-an-hour before Captain Leyland returned to the cabin, water streaming from his oilskin and long sea-boots.
‘Is everything all right now?’ Eliza asked anxiously, ‘Are we safe?’
‘We can’t congratulate ourselves yet,’ Leyland replied, ‘although we’re running with the storm now, so things on board should be a little more comfortable for a while, but before dawn we’re going to be dangerously close to the coast without knowing exactly where we are. Still, we’ll tackle that problem when the need arises. Is everything all right down here?’
Eliza nodded, ‘Mrs Leyland half-woke when the ship turned, but she didn’t stay awake for very long. She’s fast asleep again now.’
‘Good girl. You go and try to get some sleep now and I’ll do the same. I’ll be woken and on deck before dawn and call you then, so that you’re up and about when Mrs Leyland wakes.’