“After remaining a very short time at Lisbon, we one morning fired a gun to give notice to our convoy to get under weigh. Immediately the harbor was alive with noise and activity. The song of the sailors weighing anchor, the creaking of pulleys, the flapping of the sails, the loud, gruff voices of the officers, and the splashing of the waters, created what was to us, now that we were “homeward bound,” a sweet harmony of sounds. Amid all this animation, our own stately frigate spread her bellying sails to a light but favoring breeze; with colors flying, our band playing lively airs, and the captain with his speaking trumpet urging the lagging merchant-ships to more activity, we passed gaily through the large fleet consigned to our care….”

“Our preparations all completed, the hoarse voice of the boatswain rang through the ship, crying, “All hands up anchor, ahoy!” in a trice, the capstan bars were shipped, the fifer was at his station playing a lively tune, the boys were on the main deck holding on to the “nippers,” ready to pass them to the men, who put them round the “messenger” and cable; then, amid the cries of “Walk round! heave away, my lads!” accompanied by the shrill music of the fife, the anchor rose from its bed, and was soon dangling under our bows. The sails were then shaken out, the ship brought before the wind, and we were once more on our way to sea….”
[Thirty Years from Home, Or A Voice from the Main Deck, Leech, 1843]
Samuel Leech (1798–1848)