To Cuba and Back Part 9

The harbor is very full of vessels, and the room for swinging is small.

A British mail-steamer, and a Spanish man-of-war, and several merchantmen, are close upon us. Captain Bullock takes his second mate aft and they have a conference, as quietly as if they were arranging a funeral. He is explaining to him his plan for running the warps and swinging the s.h.i.+p, and telling him beforehand what he is to do in this case, and what in that, and how to understand his signs, so that no orders, or as few as possible, need be given at the time of action. The engine moves, the warp is hauled upon, the anchor tripped, and dropped again, and tripped again, the s.h.i.+p takes the right sheer, clear of everything, and goes handsomely out of the harbor, the stars and stripes at her peak, with a waving of hats from friends on the Punta wharf. The western sky is gorgeous with the setting sun, and the evening drums and trumpets sound from the encircling fortifications, as we pa.s.s the Casa Blanca, the Cabana, the Punta, and the Morro. The sky fades, the s.h.i.+p rises and falls in the heave of the sea, the lantern of the Morro gleams over the water, and the dim sh.o.r.es of Cuba are hidden from our sight.