We were a fortnight here, loading tin, nutmegs, mace, tapioca and india rubber, and then sailed for Padang, where we were to complete our cargo with coffee and cassia.
We beat out from Penang against a head wind, and with a slant reached across the Strait of Malacca. We then found light breezes to waft us along the north coast of Sumatra, "the Pepper Coast," as it was known to our East India merchants of Boston and Salem in earlier days. A pleasing change here occurred in the landscape. It is so rare to see ground not covered with verdure in these regions, that the sight of Golden Mountain near the north-west point of Sumatra was quite a treat. It is a finely-formed peak and has much bare ground on its sides, which appears golden in the intense sunlight. This was an enjoyable day, but an anxious night followed. We were sailing pleasantly, with all studding-sails set, through the passage between Pulo Way and Pulo Rondo, twelve miles wide, when at midnight the wind died away and the current swept us toward the island. There was no wind to make the vessel steer, a cast of the lead proved there was no bottom at sixty fathoms, so we could not anchor, and an inspection of chart and sailing directions showed that the rocks arose perpendicularly from deep water. No human device could save us from shipwreck, and unless a breeze sprang up off-shore our bark would soon break in pieces against the rocks. For this breeze I earnestly prayed. All hands were called on deck; a long length of chain was overhauled with the intention of letting go the anchor at the last moment, in the forlorn hope of its finding bottom, and then the crew were stationed at the braces ready to trim the yards the moment a breath of air might be perceived. I stood at the stern watching the nearing approach of the dread rocks, which now loomed through the darkness in frightful proximity, and wetting a forefinger I held it out to catch the first trace of a breeze, but in vain; until, when the last hope was about to expire, and a few minutes more were expected to seal our doom, I perceived the faintest air imaginable breathing off the land. The yards were immediately braced, and the effect was to turn the vessel's head from the shore. I dropped a fishing-line over the stern, and watched to see if it would trail out; but it hung up and down showing that the vessel had no headway. Soon, however, an additional breath came, then a little puff, and to my exceeding joy, I felt the line give a slight pull at my fingers as it stretched out into the wake. Then the water rippled along past the rudder and we slowly but surely glided away from the dangerous coast. Among many recollections of peril and anxiety, that calm hour, when in utter helplessness we looked destruction in the face, will remain prominent for its intense emotion, and the occasion it gave for thanksgiving to the Hearer of prayer.