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Marryat, Frederick, 1792-1848

"Or, The Naval Officer"


"Diving," said I, "is not running away;" so over we all went, except
two. I was down like a porpoise never rising till my head touched the
ship's copper. I swam round the stern, and was taken in on the side
opposite the enemy. My captain, I daresay, would have disdained such
a compromise; but though I was as proud as he was, I always thought,
with Falstaff, that "discretion was the better part of valour,"
especially in a midshipman.
The men left in the boat got safe on board with her. The hands were
all ready, and the moment our oars splashed in the water, they hove
round cheerfully, and the guns came galloping down the rocks like
young kangaroos. They were soon under water, and long before the
Frenchmen could get a cut at the hawsers. They then fired at them with
their muskets, in hopes of stranding the rope, but they failed in that
also. We secured the guns on board, and before daylight got under
weigh, and made sail for the fleet, which we joined shortly
afterwards.
I here learned that my own ship had fought a gallant action with an
enemy's frigate, had taken her opponent, but had suffered so much that
she was ordered home for repairs, and had sailed for England from
Gibraltar.
I had letters of introduction to the rear-admiral, who was second in
command; and I thought, under these circumstances the best thing I
could do would be to "clean myself," as the phrase used to be in those
days, and go on board and present them.


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