So when I had got back into the strait, by way of Cockburn Channel, I
did not proceed eastward for help at the Sandy Point settlement, but
turning again into the northwestward reach of the strait, set to work
with my palm and needle at every opportunity, when at anchor and when
sailing. It was slow work; but little by little the squaresail on the
boom expanded to the dimensions of a serviceable mainsail with a peak
to it and a leech besides. If it was not the best-setting sail afloat,
it was at least very strongly made and would stand n hard blow. A
ship, meeting the _Spray_ long afterward, reported her as wearing a
mainsail of some improved design and patent reefer, but that was not
the case.
The _Spray_ for a few days after the storm enjoyed fine weather, and
made fair time through the strait for the distance of twenty miles,
which, in these days of many adversities, I called a long run. The
weather, I say, was fine for a few days; but it brought little rest.
Care for the safety of my vessel, and even for my own life, was in no
wise lessened by the absence of heavy weather. Indeed, the peril was
even greater, inasmuch as the savages on comparatively fine days
ventured forth on their marauding excursions, and in boisterous
weather disappeared from sight, their wretched canoes being frail and
undeserving the name of craft at all. This being so, I now enjoyed
gales of wind as never before, and the _Spray_ was never long without
them during her struggles about Cape Horn.
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