Thus effectually prepared, as we conceived, we waited till the new moon, which was the 18th of September, when riding safe that and the three succeeding days (though the weather proved very squally and uncertain), we flattered {292} ourselves (for I was then on board) that the prudence of our measures had secured us from all accidents; but on the 22d, the wind blew from the eastward with such fury that we soon despaired of riding out the storm. In this conjuncture we should have been extremely glad that the commodore and the rest of our people on shore, which were the greatest part of our hands, had been on board us, since our only hopes of safety seemed to depend on our putting immediately to sea; but all communication with the shore was now absolutely cut off, for there was no possibility that a boat could live, so that we were necessitated to ride it out till our cables parted. Indeed we were not long expecting this dreadful event, for the small bower parted at five in the afternoon, and the ship swung off to the best bower; and as the night came on the violence of the wind still increased, tho' notwithstanding its inexpressible fury, the tide ran with so much rapidity as to prevail over it: for the tide which set to the northward at the beginning of the hurricane, turning suddenly to the southward about six in the evening, forced the ship before it, in despight of the storm which blew upon the beam. The sea now broke most surprizingly all round us, and a large tumbling swell threatened to poop us, by which the long-boat at this time, moored astern, was on a sudden canted so high that it broke the transon of the commodore's gallery, whose cabin was on the quarter-deck, and would doubtless have risen as high as the trafferel had it not been for the stroke, which stove the boat all to pieces; and yet the poor boat-keeper, though extremely bruised, was saved almost by miracle. About eight the tide slackened, but the wind not abating, the best bower cable, by which alone we rode, parted at eleven. Our sheet anchor, which was the only one we had left, was instantly cut from the bow; but before it could reach the bottom, we were driven from twenty-two into thirty-five fathom; and after we had veered away one whole cable and two-thirds of another, we could not find ground with sixty fathom of line. This was a plain indication that the anchor lay near the edge of the bank, and could not hold us long. In this pressing danger, Mr. Saumarez, our first lieutenant, who now commanded on board, ordered several guns to be fired and lights to be shown as a signal to the commodore of our distress; and in a short time after, {293} it being then about one o'clock and the night excessively dark, a strong gust, attended with rain and lightning, drove us off the bank, and forced us out to sea, leaving behind us on the island Mr. Anson with many more of our officers and great part of our crew, amounting in the whole to a hundred and thirteen persons.