In spite of these capers, we managed to get the junk off the head.  It was a tremendous lift for us; I hardly think we had ever raised such a weight before.  The skipper himself estimated it at fifteen tons, which was no small load for the tackles in fine weather, but with the ship tumbling about in her present fashion, it threatened to rip the mainmast out by the roots—­not, of course, the dead-weight strain; but when it was nearly aboard, her sudden lee wallow sometimes floated the whole mass, which the next instant, on the return roll, would be torn out of water, with all the force of the ship suddenly rolling the other way.  Every splinter, every rope-yarn of her groaned again under this savage treatment; but so splendid was her construction that she never made a drop of water more than just sufficient to sweeten the limbers.

It was with great and genuine satisfaction that we saw it at last safely lowered on deck and secured.  But when we turned our attention to the case, which, still attached to the skull, battered alongside, any chance of saving it was at once seen to be hopeless.  Indeed, as the old man said, it was time for us to “up stick” and run for shelter.  We had been too fully occupied to notice the gradual increase of the wind; but when we did, there was no gainsaying the fact that it was blowing a very stiff breeze (anglice, a violent gale).  Fortunately for us, it was from the westward, fair for the harbour of Port William, on the Stewart’s Island side of the Straits, so that we were free from the apprehension of being blown out to sea or on a jagged lee shore.

While we were thus thinking during a brief pause to take breath, the old packet herself solved our last difficulty in emphatic fashion.  She gave a tremendous lee lurch, which would inevitably have destroyed the cutting stage if we had not hoisted it, driving right over the head, which actually rose to the surface to windward, having passed under her bottom.  The weather roll immediately following was swift and sudden.  From the nature of things, it was evident that something must give way this time.  It did.  For the first and only time in my experience, the fluke-chain was actually torn through the piece to which it was fast —­two feet of solid gristle ripped asunder.  Away went the head with its L150 to L200 worth of pure spermaceti, disappearing from view almost immediately.

It had no sooner gone than more sail was set, the yards were squared, and the vessel kept away up the Straits for shelter.  It was a big improvement, for she certainly had begun to make dirty weather of it, and no wonder.  Now, however, running almost dead before the gale, getting into smoother water at every fathom, she was steady as a rock, allowing us to pursue our greasy avocation in comparative comfort.  The gale was still increasing, although now blowing with great fury; but, to our satisfaction, it was dry and not too cold.  Running before it, too, lessened our appreciation of its force; besides which, we were exceedingly busy clearing away the enormous mass of the junk, which, draining continually, kept the decks running with oil.