I had read of a sea covered by a
weed which held ships entangled as in a net, and I feared that this was
the danger into which fate had now led us. Portions of the kelp
detached from the main mass, which floated alongside the ship, proved
it to be a growth of extraordinary strength, the weed extending twenty
feet and more below the surface of the water, and being so tough that
two of our men between them were unable to break a specimen we drew on
board, so that if we should become entangled in the kelp, we knew that
death by slow starvation, when our provisions were exhausted, would
await us.
During the day upon which we first sighted this phenomenon we attempted
every manoeuvre of navigation to keep the ship clear of the weed, but
in spite of all we could do, and the ceaseless watch Hartog and I
between us kept on deck, the dawn of the next day found the ship as
stationary as though we had run ashore.
"Nothing but a gale from the right quarter can save us, Peter," said
Hartog when we held a consultation together in the cabin, "and even a
gale will not help us unless it comes soon and before the weed
gathers."
I knew what he said was plain truth, yet I advised we should keep a
brave face before the men, as nothing would be gained by provoking a
scare.
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