out.” The words were scarcely out of his mouth when the ship took a fearfully sudden lurch to starboard and away went the life-boat, chocks and all, clean over the ship’s side. Two lines that were fast to the boat kept it from washing away. The crew soon made the boat fast properly, and though she was half full of water, Mr. Hodges jumped into her and called out for all the spare life-belts to be thrown to him so that he might fasten them on to the boat’s thwarts while some of the sailors were keeping her clear of the ship’s side. He had got about six of them tied on when we saw a heavy sea coming and sang out to him, “Look out.” He leaped back to the ship just in time as in less than a minute the boat was either smashed to pieces or swamped; for we saw no more of her. Orders were then given to get the foreward boat ready but as the waves were breaking clean over it, nothing could be done. The ship now lay over so much that we could not stand on the deck. The Captain got over the bridge railing and stood on the end of the bridge, while the rest of us got on the outside of the weather (port) bulwarks. Though we were all crowded close together very little was said, each one kept looking at the big breakers, knowing that the time had come when each man would have to enter on a desperate struggle for life. Almost the only remark made was by one of the sailors, who said, “We can see the Schanck lighthouse, quite plain, and no doubt the people there see us and will send help of some kind.” Prior to putting on the life-belt I took off all superfluous clothing, leaving nothing on but my white cap, shirt, trousers and socks. The steward followed my example but kept his boots on. All the others were fully dressed and a few of them had even their oilskins on beneath the life-belts. The seas now rolled relentlessly over us, each one holding on as best he could. The wooden awning was wrenched off its stanchions and swept away to leeward. Some one suggested that there would be more safety further foreword both from the sea and the propellor, as the latter was still slowly revolving, and a number of our crowd crept as far foreword as the bridge. I decided to keep aft as I was afraid the boiler would burst and blow us all into the air. Whilst standing alone, holding on to the rail opposite the saloon companion, a tremendous sea broke over the ship’s quarter and swept me fathoms away from the vessel. I swam some distance clear and then turned to see how my mates were getting on. They were all still clinging on to the weather bulwarks and from the way their faces were turned, I saw they were watching me. The ship for a little while looked as if she were going to uprighten then she began to sink slowly, stern first. I saw Captain Mathieson still holding on to the railing at the port end of the bridge. I think he must have told the men to jump into the sea, for I saw one after the other spring clear of the vessel, then, last of all, he jumped himself.