James Braithwaite, the Supercargo: The Story of his Adventures Ashore and AfloatKingston, William Henry Giles
History
James Braithwaite, the Supercargo: The Story of his Adventures Ashore and Afloat
Kingston, William Henry Giles
Great Britain -- History, Naval -- 19th century -- Fiction
He endeavoured to rise, but fell forward across the table, upsetting the
bottle and tumblers. The mate was too far gone even to attempt to rise.
He gazed at us with an idiotic glance for a minute or two, then his
head dropped down on the little table at which he was sitting. It must
be understood that all this time the ship was far from quiet; she was
still grinding and striking heavily against the rocks, though the sea
had not sufficient force to lift her over them. I hurried again on
deck; my fear was that the ship would fill with water and drop off the
rocks and sink. After hunting about we found the carpenter, and with
his help sounded the well; already there were six feet of water in the
hold. After waiting a short time we found that the water was
increasing, the pumps must be set to work. Some of the crew said it was
of no use, and refused; others came to our summons; and to help us we
called up all the men passengers, while we set the example by labouring
as hard as we could. Thus the night passed. It was indeed better for
everybody that we had something to do. Dawn came at last. We eagerly
looked out for the prospect which daylight was to reveal, whether we
were to find ourselves amidst reefs just rising from the water, or near
a mere sandbank, or on an inhabited shore. At first we could only see,
as before, the white foam dancing up, then dark rocks and yellow sand,
and beyond it brown hills and a few trees. As the light still further
increased we discovered that the country was in a state of nature; in
vain we looked for traces of inhabitants.
The passengers, hearing that we were close to land, came crowding on
deck, all eager to get on shore. It was, however, no easy matter to do
so. The sea came rushing round the ship, between which and the dry
rocks the distance was considerable, so that anybody attempting to swim
to them would have been swept away. One small boat alone remained, the
rest had been knocked to pieces. In this only two rowers could sit, and
a couple of passengers at the most. As far, however, as we could see on
either side the surf broke too furiously to allow her to land, so that
she could, we feared, be of no use.
At length my brother cried out, "We'll go in her; there is one place
just inside the ship where we can jump on shore with a line. If we can
do that we'll carry a hawser to the rocks, and all the people may land."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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