On the 9th and 11th of September, we encountered some short gusts of
the vamperos, the most violent being the last.
12th and 13th of September. The first was termed by the captain
merely "a stiffish breeze;" but the second was entered in the log
{12} as "a storm." The stiffish breeze cost us one sail; the storm,
two. During the time it lasted, the sea ran so high, that it was
with the greatest difficulty we could eat. With one hand we were
obliged to grasp the plate, and at the same time to hold fast on to
the table, while, with the other, we managed, with considerable
difficulty, to convey the food to our mouth. At night, I was
obliged to "stow" myself firmly in my berth with my cloaks and
dresses, to protect my body from being bruised black and blue.
On the morning of the 13th, I was on deck at break of day. The
helmsman led me to the side of the vessel, and told me to hold my
head overboard, and inhale the air. I breathed a most beautiful
perfume of flowers. I looked round in astonishment, and imagined
that I must already be able to see the land: it was, however, still
far distant, the soft perfume being merely drifted to us by the
wind.
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