A description of the last voyage to Bermudas, in the ship Marygold, S.P. commander by J.H ... ; begun November the twelfth, 1670, and ending May the third, 1671 with allowance.

Homeward bound Voyage.

THE Ship now quite full, and a Western Gale, The Anchors being up, now fills her Sail, When that the glorious Raies of the bright Sun Through one Sign of the Zodiack had not run, The Pilot at the Boltsprit (u) 1.1 end doth stand, Giving from thence the strict Word of Com∣mand,

For Port or Starboard, which he thinks most fit Her over the Sharp-pointed Rocks to get; The Castles at our parting, once again We do salute, while by them to the Main A Mile or two from Shore we softly hie, Trimming our Sails on purpose to lie by, Unbending Cables, we our Anchors stow, And hoise our Boats in, then away we go Our Course for East, North-East we bravely steer, The wind North-West is, and the weather cleer, So Marches twenty second about Night, Of Summers Island we did lose the sight; But we not sail'd a days time at the least, The Wind it came unto the East, South-east; We tack about, and to the Northward stand, Where as they say, the West-Winds have com∣mand Most of the year, but we it found not so, For East South East, and South Winds over blow Putting us by out Sayls we lie a hull, The briny Waves her almost filling full;

Upon our upper Decks, where above Hens, And Ducks, with Turkeys, are shut up in Pens; Which was for fresh Provision in store, Of these are drown'd in four hours or more, Full sixty seven, but at the length we find The Storms to asswage its fury, and the wind To cease a little, so again we set Our Courses reefed, till the Seas do get Abated, which are grown so vast and high, They seem to mount us to the Cloudy Sky; One of which stormy Afternoons about Four of the Clock, we saw a Water-Spout So fear'd by Mariners, which passed by Us with a Circling in the muddy Sky. These Winds after about a Fortnights stay In these same blustring Corners, came away Unto the Westward board, where it doth blow So hard, again we forced are to go Before it with our Fore-Sail, which we tend With Braces aft, until the Storms do end; The Sea running so deep, we're forc'd to cun, Winding with Quarters, the Waves beat upon;

To answer't with our Helm, and Brace, which keeps Her right afore it, through the boystrous heaps Of Waters, these Storms eighteen hours or more Not lasts, but presently a sudden Showre Of Rain is poured down, when as the South. Wind opens loud his wide and blustring Mouth Thunder and Lightning, mixt with Hail and Rain, Unto the North-West brings it back again; So that it once more seems, and doth appear As if the Weather would be fair and clear; But all our Hopes soon vanisht, for so hard It puffs, we take in all Sayls, lo're our Yard Till better comes, and this I dare affirm Ne're worser Weather's for a three Weeks term, In which space never having any Weather We could count fair, for thirty Hours together; Our onely comfort was, the Moon shines bright During this gusty time, most part of Night;

But dreadful Storms, not always cruel Fate, To us poor Saylors, did predestinate; For when fair Weather was to make us glad, Our Oranges so rotten, caus'd a sad And heavy Countenance, scarce being found One amongst twelve, which we may call sound As to keep home, for since the World began See such a Hodge-Podge ne're did any man; Most part being pickl'd up in such a state, We bad from good with Shovels separate, We took them in with Care bestowing Pains To place them lightly, now as much again We take, for Baskets with the bad we fill To fling away, though sore against our Will; And now the Western Islands once more we Repass with a fair Wind, hoping to see No such bad Weather as we had before, To which end, we the Deities implore, And surely they our Orisons did hear, Most of the Weather being fair and clear; Though that the fresh Gales oftentimes were ran∣ging From one unto another, changing

Till Luna came so full butt at her wane, A South, and South South-west wind came again Which though 'twas for us fair, yet it was joyn'd With dirty Weather, as 'twere interloin'd For us, amongst the rest, one foggy day A Bristol Ship we meet, for th' Isle of May Being bound, there Salt to load, who did us tell Affairs in England went then very well When she came out, with France we having Peace, And all War with our Neighbouring Nations cease, He told us also, how that England bore From us of Leagues, about two times fourscore Upon the North-East Point, and having sent Letters by us to's Friends, away he went; And now we're near our wish'd-for Port, we pray For Sol's bright Splendor, in the midst of day, An Observation that we may take Before our Native Land, again we make,

But those our wishes we could not obtain, For misty Clouds to us yet still remain, With gusts, but th' water changing, we did sound On Easter Ev'ning, and had the ground At ninety Fathom, Greekish Shelly-sand, Reckoning our selves then threescore Leagues from Land; And seeing the warm Sun us debars Of sweetest sight, at Noon the Northern Stars We do observe, with his two Guards most bright, Which glistred on Sunday and Mundy Night; Which tho' 'twas truly done, next day we had A Solar Observation, vvhich us glad Did make (although the Wind contrary blew; For by't how Scilly bore w' exactly knew, And that they Channel's open, the Degree Being forty nine, with Minutes nine times three, At which time vve let run the Lead, and found That sixty Fathom reached to the Ground. Another certain sign is, that the Shore Not many Leagues is off; for Weeds great store,

Call'd Brittain Beds, upon the Seas do float, Which unto Seamen is a certain (x) 1.2 Note Of being in our Channel, all Night we Bare in, and about twelve at Noon we see The Lizard, which we past by with a Gale So gentle, that we carry all the Sail Which we can make, and parted about Night From sight of Falmouth, and by it was light We're near unto the Start, having past by Portland, the Wight, and also Beachy-High, With Fairly, Foulstone, Dover, without stay, A Pilot came aboard, us to convey, So we hoyse up our Sails atrip, and came To Westgate-Bay, and anchored in the same Till the next morning, when our Sails we set And the same Tide over the Flatts we get Up to the Rivers Mouth, from thence to Lee, So to Whole Haven, and to Tilbury;

But cease my Muse, the Voyage it is done, At Gravesend let it end, as there't begun.

Finis Itineris Maritini.

Notes

• (u) 1.1

  Pilot stands at the Boltsprit end because there is no Land-marks, and he cuns the Ship in by the Rocks under water, luffing for one, and bearing up for a∣nother; they usually chuse to Pilot them in or out at the Suns rising or setting, because then the Sun hath the least reflexion.
• (x) 1.2

  Britain Beds are Weeds like to Laces, which grow upon the Coast of Britain, and so are washt off from the Rocks into the Sea.