The Epic Voyage of the Seven Little Sisters [antikvár]

chapter iVoyage of the SpiritI am engulfed by the crashing of the seas as the raft plungesthrough the night. I look at the compasswest-by-northbutcan hardly make it out because the light from the lantern is dim.The lantern stands inside an old apple box as protection againstthe wind; the box is tied to the bamboo deck.I am sitting beside the lashed wheel, my eyes staring intothe darkness. I watch the big mainsail driving the raft throughthe night. It looks like a wind-plough or like a high-archedgateway to the Pacific. Except for a cat and a parrot I amalone. I am one month out from Callao.The seas rise up beside me one after the other. Somesmash into the ends of the logs and bury the rudder in foam.Now and then a high sea almost leaps on board. For a whileI listen to the wind in the rigging, wondering if it is blowingup more. I go forward. The ropes stand as tight as iron bars.I slack a little on the sheet. We are on the starboard tack.Everything looks shipshape, and I work my way back aftagain, never letting go with one hand until I have a firmhold on something with the other, for the raft is rolling,pitching and slidingmoving incessantly. I have no life-linesstretched across the deck; they would be in the way; it's speedabove all that counts in working the raft single-handed.I have only one line running from the right leg of the main-mast to the right afterstaythat's for a last-ditch hang-on.I generally keep well inside it, towards the middle of theraft.I sit down again by the wheel and watch the course. Thefew inches I slacked on the sheet bring her up more and makea better course. I have a hard time keeping my eyes open. I'mworn out but long past thinking about it. Since leaving CallaoI have been getting about two or three hours sleep a day. I