morning, about three a.m.
We had reached the northern verge of the tropics in a very short time , owing to the favourable cant in the usual direction of the north-east trades before noted , and had been met with north-westerly winds and thick , dirty weather , which was somewhat unusual in so low a latitude . Our look-outs redoubled their vigilance , one being posted on each bow always at night , and relieved every hour , as we were so well manned . We were now on the port tack , of course , heading about north-east-by-north , and right in the track of outward-hound vessels from both the United Kingdom and the States . One morning , about three a.m. -- that fateful time in the middle watch when more collisions occur than at any other -- suddenly out of the darkness a huge ship seemed to leap right at us . She must have come up in a squall , of which there were many about , at the rate of some twelve knots an hour , having a fair wind , and every rag of sail set . Not a gleam of light was visible anywhere on board of her , and , to judge from all appearances , the only man awake on board was the helmsman . We , being `` on the wind , close-hauled , '' were bound by the `` rule of the road at sea '' to keep our course when meeting a ship running free .