On reaching Havana, Ernest quit the vessel, and shipped on the Spanish brig "Michael Angel," bound for Falmouth, England. The very first day after sailing from Havana he was stricken with yellow fever, a disease that was so prevalent in Cuba that many ships in the harbors were unable to sail for want of crews, so many of the sailors having died of the fever. Ernest had the fever so badly for nine days that he was not expected to recover; in fact, no one thought it worth while trying to save him. He was delirious as a result of the fever, and was fastened in the sail locker at night, and allowed to lie on the water casks in the day time. However, he lived in spite of the neglect with which he was treated, but before he had recovered his strength he fell overboard. The cook happened to hear the splash as he struck the water, and on looking around saw him come to the surface and threw a rope to him, by which he was hauled on board. On the 8th of December, 1866, the ship encountered a terrific storm in the Bay of Biscay, during which the starboard bulwarks was washed away, and the ship sprang a leak. The cargo consisted of crude sugar and cacao beans, and the sugar became dissolved through the water rushing into the hold. The crew had to be kept busy for two and a half days, pumping the sugar and water out of the hold, to keep the ship afloat. Falmouth was reached in the beginning of January, and the ship was repaired. On the 18th of January she set sail for London, with a channel pilot on board. The next day she encountered a severe storm in which she lost her foremast head, and the pilot thought best to return to Falmouth, which place was reached the following day. The storm increased in fury and the ship, dragging both anchors, was being driven on to the break water. Her signals of distress brought no relief, for all the ships near by had enough to do to take care of themselves. The ship struck broadside against the breakwater, damaging it to such an extent that it sank within a few minutes. Ernest was standing upon the deck when the collision occurred, and sprang towards the breakwater. It was a very daring--in fact, foolhardy thing for him to do, as he had about one chance in a thousand of escaping death, but fortunately he did escape, by clutching the timbers of the breakwater, almost as a cat would, and clinging on thereto. As the ship sank the crew clambered up the breakwater and were saved.