At noon the crew came along for their dinner and they brought their beds with them. They placed these on the engines to dry, grumbling very much as they did so that the ship was so dirty they could keep nothing dry either above or below. I told the men they might have their dinner in the galley, but after looking in they declined, remarking it was worse than the forecastle. Tea and toast was all they required aft for their midday meal. By 3 p. m. we were about two miles off Cape Schanck and the wind having gone round to S.W. again, blowing a steady gale, there was a heavy sea breaking just off the point. In order to avoid these breakers, Captain Mathieson altered the ship’s course and headed out seaward for a while, till the Schanck was given a wide berth, then the course was shaped for Port Phillip Heads, The _Alert_ now began to roll very much and take heavy lurches to leeward at the same time taking lots of water on board. A great many articles in the galley were thrown down and smashed or washed away. It was impossible for me to help this, although the steward said there would be a jolly row when we got into port over losing so many things. [Illustration: CAPE SCHANCK] At 4 p. m. the watch came from below but all hands remained on deck and went up on the poop as it was the driest part of the ship, and, but for the rain, fairly comfortable. The steward told me not to attempt to get any tea ready till we got inside, so I went below with him into the saloon. We had not been there many minutes till we heard a tremendous sea break on board on the lee side. It made the ship shiver like a leaf and listed her over to starboard so much that the two lamps hanging in the saloon were thrown violently up against the deck overhead and smashed to pieces. We ran up on deck to see what was the matter and found the lee side of the vessel full of water, the bulwarks amidships being clean out of sight. Two men were at the wheel and the Captain was on the bridge evidently trying to get the ship’s head up to the sea and wind. The next wave came right up on the lee side of the poop—where I was standing holding on to a stay—and washed me overboard, but I managed to grasp the poop railing and held on for bare life. Just as the chief mate, Mr. Hodges, was coming to my rescue another heavy roller threw me inboard again and dashed me up against the companion with such force that I thought for a time my legs were broken. I asked Mr. Hodges whether he thought the ship was in danger. He replied, “No, I think she will come up to it,” meaning that when the vessel got her head to windward she would free herself from the water on deck. Meantime, Captain Mathieson had taken the wheel himself and sent the two men to join the others in taking in sail foreward. As soon as the canvas was taken off the ship another attempt was made to bring her up, but all efforts were useless. She would “come to” a little bit, then the