Narratives of Shipwrecks of the Royal Navy; between 1793 and 1849 eBook

This eBook from the Gutenberg Project consists of approximately 387 pages of information about Narratives of Shipwrecks of the Royal Navy; between 1793 and 1849.

Narratives of Shipwrecks of the Royal Navy; between 1793 and 1849 eBook

This eBook from the Gutenberg Project consists of approximately 387 pages of information about Narratives of Shipwrecks of the Royal Navy; between 1793 and 1849.

Whilst all on board were weighing these chances of destruction or of safety, the vessel’s head had gone round off, and a few succeeding heavy surfs threw her again with her starboard quarter upon the rock, and whilst she was in this position, there appeared a possibility of getting some of the people on shore.  Captain Burgess, therefore, ordered Lieutenant Hamilton to do everything in his power to facilitate such a proceeding, and shortly afterwards that officer, Mr. Mends, midshipman, and about seventy others, effected a landing by jumping either from the broken end of the mainyard, which was lying across the ship, or from the hammock netting abaft the mizenmast; several others who attempted to land in the same way were less fortunate; some were crushed to death, and some drawn back by the recoil of the surf and drowned.

From the time the ship first struck, the current had been carrying her along the cliffs at the rate of at least a quarter of a mile an hour; it now carried her off the rock, and she drifted along shore, a helpless wreck, at the mercy of the winds and waves.  The captain saw that nothing more could be done for the vessel, and therefore he directed all his energies to the preservation of the crew.  The marine who had been appointed to guard the spirit-room still remained at his post, and never left it till commanded to do so by his superior officer, even after the water had burst open the hatch.  We mention this as an instance of the effect of good discipline in times of the greatest peril.

The vessel, or rather the wreck, was now carried towards a small cove, into which she happily drifted; she struck heavily against the rocks, then gave some tremendous yauls, and gradually sunk until nothing was left above water but the bows, the broken bowsprit, and the wreck of the masts as they laid on the booms.

All on board deemed that the crisis of their fate had arrived,—­and they prepared for the final struggle between life and death.  There were some moments of awful suspense, for every lurch the ill-fated vessel gave, was expected to be the last; but when she seemed to sink no deeper, there came the hope that her keel had touched the bottom, and that they should not all he engulfed in a watery grave.

Before she sunk, the frigate’s bows had gone so close into the rocks as to enable some sixty or seventy people to jump on shore; and a hawser was got out and fixed to a rock, by which several others were saved; but by a tremendous surge, the piece of rock to which the hawser was fastened was broken away, and for a time all communication with the land was suspended.  They tried every means that could be devised to convey a rope from the ship to the land, but for a long time without success, until Mr. Geach, the boatswain, swung himself on the stump of the bowsprit, and by making fast two belaying pins to the end of a line, he succeeded in throwing it on shore.  To this a stronger cable was bent, and it was dragged through the surf by the people on the rocks, who then kept it taut.

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Narratives of Shipwrecks of the Royal Navy; between 1793 and 1849 from Project Gutenberg. Public domain.