The Lightning did not leave Liverpool until 14 May under the command of Captain Forbes who had done so well in the Marco Polo. Her departure was recorded in the diary kept by one of her passengers.
Sunday 14th May 1854. With a tug on each side and one ahead the clipper Lightning slipped down the Mersey from Liverpool at noon, to the boom of guns from the Marco Polo and shore batteries and to the strains of the ship’s band playing ‘Cheer, Boys, Cheer’, many joining them in chorus, flags flying, many full hearts leaving their native land forever – away we go. Divine service in our saloon and ditto after tea – too much ranting and praying. We cannot get fresh air for the crowds who at tend. We get our meals in great discomfort and without order – everyone for himself and many are rough and rude. Several sails were set without wind to fill them. One tug returned to Liverpool on Sunday and the sec ond on Monday with a large mail from the passengers, but the third remained until the ship was off Cork on Tuesday. With every sail set we present a fine appear ance even with only a light wind.
9th June. Following on several trifling squalls during the day, a much stronger one at 10.30 p.m. carried away the jib topsail and by 11 p.m. white thick clouds were rising to a fresh cool breeze. The ship was almost covered in sail and as the breeze became stronger she gradually set herself to it, at the same time going quicker and quicker. Men were stationed at the halyards and I went below to keep dry. The ship was nearly on her side when the Captain came on deck; … what a roaring of wind, thundering of flapping sails, dashing of spray, shrieking of orders there were before we were snug again. The ship trembles very much when she dashes against a wave. T… thinks we ought to petition the Captain to keep us under less sail, for he sees very little difference between frightening a man out of his wits and killing him outright.
Friday 7th July 1854. We are somewhere off the Mozambique Channel and had a tempestuous night, going at a fearful rate at times. Main topmast halyard gave way making a terrific noise until the sail was stowed. Lee scuppers a long way under – sea high – many a heavy dash over into the main deck. An extra lurch and 20 men leaning against the weather side went flying down to leeward, some on their feet and some on their sterns. 9 p.m. the ship seems to be going faster than ever – absolutely flying from under one. 10 p.m. the blocks, 18 inches above the lee rail, are frequently under water. The deck is on an angle of 45 or 50 degrees and you only get along hand over hand, by the belaying-pins on the windward side. The second mate, whose watch it is, says ‘Now this is what I call carrying on!’50