Today’s blog post is the thirteenth in a series, the transcription of Nimrod Headington’s 1852 journal, Trip to California.

In his journal Nimrod Headington details his voyage from New York to San Francisco, where he would stake his claim and pan for gold. [1] [2]

Their ship, the Race Hound, set sail from New York on 16 February 1852 and rounded Cape Horn during the night of 4 May. Today’s installment begins on 27 June 1852, as they continue to sail toward San Francisco.

Nimrod Headington (1827-1913)

June 27^th. Sunday morning I was up early and went forward under poop deck to take a saltwater bath, as the water was warm and the day was pleasant after a hard rain last night. The air was very pure now, this being the sabbath and almost a calm. Everything seemed to quiet, and almost everyone had a book in their hand—even the sailors, who on every Sabbath before that but one could be heard cursing and swearing. Cursing their God and the contrary winds often to such an extent that it was enough to chill the blood of anyone possessing a soul to hear them. We saw a shark that day, but it was some distance off and going the opposite direction. We were glad of it for none of us wanted to supply his hungry belly.

June 28^th. This morning just as I went on deck, two men on top of the [gella] got into a fight, and it was about the worst fist fight I looked at. They were both big, strong men, and they fought for 5 minutes or more. Both badly pounded and was blood all over.

June 29^th. We are having strong winds and showers of rain and sudden gales and squalls. Continued all day. It was so cloudy and stormy that the captain could not take the second altitude to determine what latitude we were in.

Last night there were several large birds gathered around the ship. These birds were about the size of a goose and of a brown color. The sailors called them boobies. They are sleepy, lazy kind of bird, and they fall asleep as soon as they light. They had scarcely settled down when the sailors had hold of them and brought them on deck. But they did not hurt them and let them go again. They consider it bad luck to kill a bird of any kind on the sea. There were other birds around the ship called the men of war. They are a white bird and about the same size of the booby, they did not light. There are but two sea fowls that ever light on a ship—the booby and the albatross. The latter is a white bird with black spots on their wings, web footed, and the largest bird of all.

June 30^th. We had a very bad storm last night. I thought one time we were going to go down. Several of the passengers rolled out of their berths. But fortunately the storm did not last but a couple of hours. Hard rain began to pour down, and that had a tendency to still the troubled waters. I attempted to sleep on a bench near the hatchway, but it was so awful hot that I could not sleep. Besides, I had not laid there but a short time until the bench capsized and I was laying on the floor. I picked myself up and went up on deck and spent the night there, where I could get a good breath. When daylight came, the wind shifted to the northwest, and we made a rapid run. It rained very often all that day.

While we were at breakfast this morning, someone on deck cried, “Sail, ho.” When we came up on deck, we saw the masts of a vessel supposed to be about 6 miles off our bow, heading the same way we were. But she was running double reef topsails and mainsails with [topgallent] sails furled. Making very slow time. We were running under [studding] sails with our [topgallant] sails and [royal] sails all set. It was not more than 2 hours from the time we first sighted her until we were out of sight. [3]

To be continued…

I will post Nimrod’s journal in increments, but not necessarily every week.

[1] Nimrod Headington at the age of 24, set sail from New York in February 1852, bound for San Francisco, California, to join the gold rush and to hopefully make his fortune. The Panama Canal had not been built at that time and he sailed around the tip of South America to reach the California coast.     Nimrod Headington kept a diary of his 1852 journey and in 1905 he made a hand-written copy for his daughter Thetis O. Tate. This hand-written copy was eventually passed down to Nimrod’s great-great-granddaughter, Karen (Liffring) Hill (1955-2010). Karen was a book editor and during the last two years of her life she transcribed Nimrod’s journal. Nimrod’s journal, Trip to California, documents his travels between February of 1852 and spring of 1853.

[2] Nimrod Headington (1827-1913) was the son of Nicholas (1790-1856) and Ruth (Phillips) (1794-1865) Headington. He was born in Mt. Vernon, Knox County, Ohio, on 5 August 1827 and married Mary Ann McDonald (1829-1855) in Delaware County, Ohio, in 1849. Nimrod moved to Portland, Jay County, Indiana, by 1860 and during the Civil War served in the 34^th Indiana Infantry as a Colonel, Lieutenant Colonel, and Major. Nimrod died 7 January 1913 and is buried in Green Park Cemetery, Portland. Nimrod Headington is my fourth great-granduncle, the brother of my fourth great-grandfather, William Headington (1815-1879).

[3] Nimrod Headington’s journal, transcription and photos courtesy of Ross Hill, 2019, used with permission.

Today’s blog post is the twelfth in a series, the transcription of Nimrod Headington’s 1852 journal, Trip to California.

In his journal Nimrod Headington details his voyage from New York to San Francisco, where he would stake his claim and pan for gold. [1] [2]

Nimrod Headington (1827-1913)

Their ship, the Race Hound, set sail from New York on 16 February 1852 and rounded Cape Horn during the night of 4 May. Today’s installment begins on 23 June 1852, the day after the longest day of the year, when they crossed the Equator. They continued sailing northward.

Nimrod writes about the conditions on the ship:

June 23^rd. Breeze from the south very light but so steady that it took us on our course. The day was clear and very hot. I went up on masthead and sat and read all day. In the evening the sailors gathered on poop deck and had a dance, and they all got drunk, and they carried on all night so that we got no sleep for their noise. The mate being sick was all of our dependence. This captain was afraid of those wicked wretches, and they were wanting a chance to kill him as they had a grudge against him for some of his cruel treatment of them. Some time before when they were all sober—and if they had have tackled him, there would not have been much mercy shown him from the passengers, for he had treated us all badly by not giving us enough to eat or to drink. We were promised when we left New York that we should all fare alike in first and second cabin—that our provision should be the same. But before we were out a week, there was a material difference in the grub, which kept up a row all the time. Before we were out 20 days, we were passed our allowance of water, which was only one quart for each man a day; however, as small as this quantity appears, I never suffered for water at any time during the voyage. As we did not have much exercise, but little water was required. But worst of all, the water got so bad before we could reach a port to get fresh water again. The water smelled so bad that we would do without just as long as we could, for the smell was enough to set one to vomiting. We kept haunting the captain until we got fresh bread baked every morning instead of hard tack, which was so hard that no man could eat it without grinding first.

June 24^th. This morning had every appearance of a good day for us. The wind was strong and fair, and we were making fine headway when all of a sudden about 10 o’clock black clouds came up from the northeast and soon overshadowed us. And in a few minutes, the rain fell in torrents for about 2 hours, when it ceased and a favorable breeze struck up again. Before this, I had been sleeping on a deck for about a week. But when this rain came, we all had to go below, where we suffered for want of air. But the showers being short, we were soon on deck again. It was too cloudy to get the sun’s altitude. We could not tell what latitude or longitude we were in.

June 25^th. The morning appeared very pleasant, but we had several showers of rain during the day. All being well, we were all merry, and some of them got a little too merry. Six or eight of our men got on a spree and showed off a little. They made so much noise that the captain came on deck and ordered them to go forward, but they drove the captain to his quarters in a quick time. And when they had as much fun as they wanted, they got quiet and went to bed.

That night we came in sight of the North Star—which was the first time we had seen it since leaving north latitude on the Atlantic 87 days before! When I saw it, I resolved that I would never go out of sight of it again. The sun and moon began to rise and set in their proper places again, and things began to appear natural again. We had never been used to looking north for the sun before. Neither had we used to having two summers and two winters in the same year. But we have seen them this year. We have felt the burning heat of the sun a second time at the equator and felt the sleet and snow a second time. Leaving New York in the winter, we encountered another winter on rounding the cape, and a severe winter more so than on land on account of the velocity of the wind. A voyage on the high sea is the place to try the courage of men and to learn their disposition. Some men during storms would go below and crawl into bed and cover up head and heels to keep from witnessing the awfulness of a storm at sea. Some would pray with all their might. Some would not leave the deck while the storm lasted. For my part, I was always among the latter and could never sleep during a storm no matter how long it lasted. I always watched the old hands. As long as I could not see that they were alarmed, I felt that we would come out all right.

Now we have been 20 days without the least appearance of a storm or a calm, which is very pleasant after coming around the cape through so many storms and gales of wind and the dangers of going ashore or on some hidden rock or island—all of which the sea is full of around the end of the cape. We are now in latitude 5°40’, longitude 100°11’ west, thermometer 85°.

June 26^th. We had a ten knot breeze last night and this morning until 4 o’clock, when it began to rain. The wind full, and it is almost calm until 12 o’clock, when a light breeze set in from the northwest. We were then in latitude 7°18’, longitude 111° west. [3]

To be continued…

I will post Nimrod’s journal in increments, but not necessarily every week.

[1] Nimrod Headington at the age of 24, set sail from New York in February 1852, bound for San Francisco, California, to join the gold rush and to hopefully make his fortune. The Panama Canal had not been built at that time and he sailed around the tip of South America to reach the California coast. Nimrod Headington kept a diary of his 1852 journey and in 1905 he made a hand-written copy for his daughter Thetis O. Tate. This hand-written copy was eventually passed down to Nimrod’s great-great-granddaughter, Karen (Liffring) Hill (1955-2010). Karen was a book editor and during the last two years of her life she transcribed Nimrod’s journal. Nimrod’s journal, Trip to California, documents his travels between February of 1852 and spring of 1853.

[2] Nimrod Headington (1827-1913) was the son of Nicholas (1790-1856) and Ruth (Phillips) (1794-1865) Headington. He was born in Mt. Vernon, Knox County, Ohio, on 5 August 1827 and married Mary Ann McDonald (1829-1855) in Delaware County, Ohio, in 1849. Nimrod moved to Portland, Jay County, Indiana, by 1860 and during the Civil War served in the 34^th Indiana Infantry as a Colonel, Lieutenant Colonel, and Major. Nimrod died 7 January 1913 and is buried in Green Park Cemetery, Portland. Nimrod Headington is my fourth great-granduncle, the brother of my fourth great-grandfather, William Headington (1815-1879).

[3] Nimrod Headington’s journal, transcription and photos courtesy of Ross Hill, 2019, used with permission.

Today’s blog post is the eleventh in a series, the transcription of Nimrod Headington’s 1852 journal.

Trip to California, Nimrod Headington’s journal that details his 1852 voyage from New York to San Francisco, where he would stake his claim and pan for gold. [1] [2]

The ship set sail from New York on 16 February 1852 and rounded Cape Horn during the night of 4 May. Today’s installment begins as they sail toward the Equator, just a week away from the longest day of the year.

June 10^th. We had fine sailing. The day was clear and bright sun shone. We headed northwest by west and ran 9 knots and hour.

June 11^th. The wind still continues from the same direction. This is the eighth day that we had the wind from the same quarter. It did not vary one point in the five days our course was northwest. In latitude 19°24’.

June 13^th. Sunday. The weather is very fine, and the same good old breeze sending our ship on its course. We spent the day reading the Bible and other useful books and singing songs. We had lots of good singers on board, and we made the fishes of the sea come up to the surface to see what the noise meant. Sometimes a hundred and fifty or two hundred would join in some chorus.

There was a man on board with two little children that were very interesting—a girl and a boy. The little boy’s name was Jack. I thought of my own little boy I had left at home. I would take him up often and imagine it was Charley. He had light hair and looked like my boy.

June 14^th. We struck the southeast Trade Winds and had fine sailing, running 9 knots an hour in latitude 14°55’.

June 15^th. Winds continued the same and running at same rate in latitude 12°18’, longitude 92°15’.

June 16^th. Wind not quite so strong, but we ran 8 knots an hour. We had a lottery on that day. The prizes were gold watches. Now in latitude 10°9’, longitude 95°8’.

June 17^th. We were sailing on with same Trade Winds, still heading northwest with wind right aft, running 10 knots and hour. The ship ran so steady that not a rope was changed during the day or night. The thermometer stood at 95° in latitude 8°15’, longitude 96°14’. 

June 18^th. The day was clear, and the sun was hot. Had it not been for the good breeze that still kept up, we should have suffered, for we had no awning up to keep the sun off of us. We saw a finback whale off our lee bow only a short distance from us. This was a different kind of the whale family from what we had seen before. Thermometer 80° in latitude 6°36’, longitude 98°17’.

June 19^th. Our good wind still continued and increased in volume, and if there ever was a merry set of men, we of the ship Race Hound were among the merriest of all: after having rocked and tossed around Cape Horn, we began to think of the poem Whatever Is Is for the Best:

Wherefore repine at fortune’s frowns
Sorrow must be thy frequent guest
In every trial think of this:
Whatever is is for the best.

Despair not though thou seldom finds
From care a momentary rest
Press on in faith and fullest hope
Remembering all is for the best.

When sad misfortunes weigh you down
And dark forebodings haunt the breast
Be this thy beacon light through all
Whatever is is for the best.

Then trust in God if you would find
Beyond the great eternal rest
For orders he not all aright
Whatever is is for the best. 

These lines were corresponded by my bunkmate Richard Bliss from Flint, Michigan, a capital good fellow and such a man as I love to meet on such a voyage as this. He was always cheerful and happy. Late this afternoon we had several squalls and light shower s of rain, but nothing serious happened.

June 20^th. Sunday came, and the sun shone brightly—not a cloud in the heavens and a most glorious breeze from the west, which was cool. And it was so pleasant that all seemed to rejoice. The awning was spread to keep the sun off or else we should have suffered with heat. But with this and the cool wind that carried so rapidly along, we were quite comfortable. We spent the day in a variety of ways: some reading, some writing, some singing. As for myself, I spent the day reading the Bible, pacing to and from on the deck. My thoughts were constantly on home and the privileges they were enjoying in going to church or of visiting friends that beautiful day, while I was confined to the decks of a ship in the middle of the Pacific Ocean. This seemed the most like a Sabbath day of any day since the beginning of our voyage. The sailors were all still, and the passengers—those of them given to profanity—had in a great measure reformed since the death of so many of their fellow travelers who had fallen victim of a watery grave.  

The thermometer stood at 90° in latitude 2°3’.

June 21^st. Our winds were very light, the sky bright and clean. At 12 o’clock noon, we were within 29 miles of the equator and at the rate we are funning we will cross the line about 9 o’clock tonight. We saw a sperm whale close to our ship—the largest we had seen.

June 22^nd. On this day the sun reaches its northern extremity and is 22 ½ degrees north of the equator and is the longest day in the year. It is called the ecliptic of the sun. About 10 o’clock our breeze set in a little stronger, and we began to make better speed. And at 12 o’clock we were 20 miles north of the equator. [3]

To be continued…

Nimrod again mentions the name of the ship they were sailing on—the Race Hound [Racehound].

Just this past week I received a very interesting letter from a reader whose great-great-grandfather Sam Durbin was also on the clipper ship Racehound with Nimrod. Sam Durbin, Nimrod Headington, and a couple others, all from Knox County, Ohio, were sailing on the Racehound. Durbin also wrote an account of his voyage to San Francisco and of his California Gold Rush adventures. How interesting to learn that there is another account of this same journey!    

I will post Nimrod’s journal in increments, but not necessarily every week.

[1] Nimrod Headington at the age of 24, set sail from New York in February 1852, bound for San Francisco, California, to join the gold rush and to hopefully make his fortune. The Panama Canal had not been built at that time and he sailed around the tip of South America to reach the California coast.     Nimrod Headington kept a diary of his 1852 journey and in 1905 he made a hand-written copy for his daughter Thetis O. Tate. This hand-written copy was eventually passed down to Nimrod’s great-great-granddaughter, Karen (Liffring) Hill (1955-2010). Karen was a book editor and during the last two years of her life she transcribed Nimrod’s journal. Nimrod’s journal, Trip to California, documents his travels between February of 1852 and spring of 1853.

[2] Nimrod Headington (1827-1913) was the son of Nicholas (1790-1856) and Ruth (Phillips) (1794-1865) Headington. He was born in Mt. Vernon, Knox County, Ohio, on 5 August 1827 and married Mary Ann McDonald (1829-1855) in Delaware County, Ohio, in 1849. Nimrod moved to Portland, Jay County, Indiana, by 1860 and during the Civil War served in the 34^th Indiana Infantry as a Colonel, Lieutenant Colonel, and Major. Nimrod died 7 January 1913 and is buried in Green Park Cemetery, Portland. Nimrod Headington is my fourth great-granduncle, the brother of my fourth great-grandfather, William Headington (1815-1879).

[3] Nimrod Headington’s journal, transcription and photos courtesy of Ross Hill, 2019, used with permission.