The ship is then ready for the worst; and if, in reeling round the headland, she receives a broadside, it generally goes well with her.

If ill, all hands go to the bottom with quiet consciences.
Among sea-captains, there are some who seem to regard the genius of the Cape as a wilful, capricious jade, that must be courted and coaxed into complaisance.

First, they come along under easy sails; do not steer boldly for the headland, but tack this way and that--sidling up to it, Now they woo the Jezebel with a t'-gallant-studding-sail; anon, they deprecate her wrath with double-reefed-topsails.

When, at length, her unappeasable fury is fairly aroused, and all round the dismantled ship the storm howls and howls for days together, they still persevere in their efforts.

First, they try unconditional submission; furling every rag and _heaving to_: laying like a log, for the tempest to toss wheresoever it pleases.
This failing, they set a _spencer_ or _try-sail_, and shift on the other tack.