Narrative of the shipwreck of the brig Betsey, of Wiscasset, Maine, and murder of five of her crew, by pirates,: on the coast of Cuba, Dec. 1824. — John Shaqi
Narrative of the shipwreck of the brig Betsey, of Wiscasset, Maine, and murder of five of her crew, by pirates,: on the coast of Cuba, Dec. 1824.Collins, Daniel
History
Narrative of the shipwreck of the brig Betsey, of Wiscasset, Maine, and murder of five of her crew, by pirates,: on the coast of Cuba, Dec. 1824.
Collins, Daniel
Caribbean Area -- History; Pirates; Shipwrecks
distance from the Island was so great, that we could never endure
hunger, thirst and the fatigue of bailing long enough to reach
it. I endeavored to convince him that we must reach the land
by another night, in the direction we were steering. The
disheartened crew soon caught the contagious and fatal despair
which the Captain had incautiously diffused among them. In vain
did I expostulate with him on the necessity of continuing our
exertions at the oars--he burst into tears, kneeled down in the
bottom of the boat and implored Divine protection. It is true our
hold on life was a frail one. In an open boat, that from leaking
and the violence of the sea we could scarcely keep above
water--without food, drink, or clothing sufficient to defend us
from the cold and rain of a December _Norther_--in an irregular
and rapid current that prevented any correct calculation of our
course--on an unknown and dangerous coast, without a chart to
guide us.
In a state of mind bordering on that insanity which is sometimes
caused by hunger, thirst and despair united, we passed a most
perilous night. At the very first dawn of light every eye was
again in search of a sail. A small dark speck on the ocean was
descried ahead, about 5 leagues distant! The joyful sound of land
ran through our nerves like an electric shock, and gave new life
to the oars. The wind being fair, the aid of our sail, which was
equal to two additional oars, gave us such head way, that as the
rays of the rising sun sported over the tops of the waves and
fell on the small spot of land ahead, we found ourselves nearing
one of the Cuba Keys.
The land we first discovered was a little Island of about three
acres, that arose above the surrounding key, as high as the tops
of the mangroves. The name of this key--the largest of its
group[A]--was of so sacred an import, that one would have
supposed it had been a refuge no less from the storms of
persecution, than those of the element around it.
[Footnote A: There are about 700 of the Bahama Keys in groups or
clusters, the greater part of which are overflown two or three
feet, and covered with mangrove bushes from 10 to 15 feet high,
the roots of which are very numerous and rise above water. The
largest of the groups generally contain a small spot of dry land,
and are distinguished by appropriate names.]
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