text_original: I ran to windward. The schooner's yards and rigging were now black with men, clustering like bees swarming, her square sails were being close furled, her fore and aft sails set, and away she was, dead to windward of us.
text_transcription: I RAN TO WINDWARD THE SCHOONERS YARDS AND RIGGING WERE NOW BLACK WITH MEN CLUSTERING LIKE BEES SWARMING HER SQUARE SAILS WERE BEING CLOSE FURLED HER FORE AND AFT SAILS SET AND AWAY SHE WAS DEAD TO WINDWARD OF US
phonemes: aɪ ɹˈæn tə wˈɪndwɚd. ðə skˈuːnɚz jˈɑːɹdz ænd ɹˈɪɡɪŋ wɜː nˈaʊ blˈæk wɪð mˈɛn, klˈʌstɚɹɪŋ lˈaɪk bˈiːz swˈɔːɹmɪŋ, hɜː skwˈɛɹ sˈeɪlz wɜː bˌiːɪŋ klˈoʊs fˈɜːld, hɜː fˈɔːɹ ænd ˈæft sˈeɪlz sˈɛt, ænd ɐwˈeɪ ʃiː wʌz, dˈɛd tə wˈɪndwɚd ʌv ˌʌs.