"There was an old and quiet man, And by the fire sat he; And now, said he, to you I'll tell Things passing strange that once befell A ship upon the sea."--_Mary Howitt._
"There she is, Ricardo," said I to my friend, as we reached the end of the pier, in Havana, while the Dart lay about half a mile off the shore,--"what think you of her?"
"Beautiful!--a more symmetrical craft never passed the Moro!"
So thought I, and my heart responded with a thrill of pride to the sentiment. How saucy she looked, with her gay streamers abroad upon the winds, and the red-striped flag of the Union floating jauntily at the main peak--with her lofty masts tapering away, till, relieved against the blue abyss, they were apparently diminished to the size of willow wands, while the slight ropes that supported the upper spars seemed, from the pier, like the fairy tracery of the spider. Although surrounded by ships, xebecs, brigantines, polacres, galleys and galliots from almost every clime in christendom, she stood up conspicuously among them all, an apt representative of the land whence she came! But let us take a nearer view of the beauty. The hull was long, low, and at the bows almost as sharp as the missile after which she was named. From the waist to the stern she tapered away in the most graceful proportions, and she had as lovely a run as ever slid over the dancing billows. Light and graceful as a sea-bird, she rocked on the undulating water. But her rig!--herein, to my thinking, was her chiefest beauty--every thing pertaining to it was so exact, so even and so _tanto_. Besides the sail usually carried by man-of-war schooners, she had the requisite appertenances for a royal and flying kite, or sky-sail, which, now that she was in port, were all rigged up. Not another vessel of her class in the navy could spread so much canvas to the influence of old Boreas as the Dart.
Her armament consisted of one long brass twenty-four pounder, mounted on a revolving carriage midships, and six twelve-pound carronades. Add to this a picked crew of ninety men, with the redoubtable Jonathan West as our captain, Mr. Dacre Dacres as first, and your humble servant, Ahasuerus Hackinsack, as second lieutenant, besides a posse of minor officers and middies,--and you may form a faint idea of the Dart.