The _Mary Ellen_ was a new ship, on her first voyage, and seeing that she was behaving badly, the captain, after consultation with his officers, determined to try if the ship would ride easier under the lee clew of the main topsail, or “goose wing” as it is sometimes called. When everything was ready to execute the movement, I ran aloft to the maintop, in order to see and keep all the necessary gear running clear. However, before the weather sheet was half hauled up, the ship fell off until she was beam on to the sea and wind. The skipper at once called out, “Get that sheet home again as soon as you can, but meantime look out, men, and hold on for your lives.” On glancing up to windward, I saw a tremendous sea coming down broad on the ship’s beam, its angry looking crest seemed on a level with where I stood in the main top. Along it came, and struck the ship with such force that she heeled clean over, so much so that as I looked down I saw nothing underneath me out of the water except the ship’s weather topside from the bilge to the top-gallant rail. She was literally buried under water, the weight of which caused her to tremble so, that I felt the very mast I was on shiver like a leaf. My first thought was that the ship would never rise, then, as I saw she was making an effort to get up and free herself, it flashed across my mind that if she ever came to the surface again, I would be the only soul left on board! Slowly the good ship began to uprighten, and as she did so I saw here and there beneath me, heads, legs and arms of my shipmates darting out of the water like fish when they are plentiful in a pond. As soon as she rose we placed a tarpaulin in the mizzen rigging, sheeted the topsail home again, and got the ship up to the wind once more. If another such sea had come along before we got things put right, it would have been a case with the ship and all of us. As it was two men were swept overboard; the lee bulwarks were gone from the poop to the cathead; boats, galley, and almost everything about the decks had disappeared as if they never had been! Two days afterward the gale eased off, and we ran back to Queenstown, discharged the cargo, and docked the ship for repairs before starting again on our voyage. In order to show the enormous loss of life amongst seamen in comparison with other trades, or callings, Mr. J. H. Wilson, a member of the House of Commons, has compiled a table from statistics contained in the “Report on the work of the Labour Department of the Board of Trade” and issued on November 28, 1894. Mr. Wilson’s table embraces a period of ten years, 1883-4 to 1893-4, and is as follows:— Industries Number Employed Ten years loss Annual Average of Life Loss of Life