All of us clung to the boat, giving each other all the encouragement we could. Surfman Chase was the first one of our crew to go, then Nickerson and Small were swept to their death. Capt. Eldredge, surfmen Kendrick, Foye, Rogers and myself still managed to hold onto the boat; every sea that struck the boat nearly smothered us. Kendrick was the next to drop into the sea, and Foye soon followed. Capt. Eldredge, Rogers and myself expected that we too would share their fate. Rogers was clinging to the boat amidships, while Capt. Eldredge and myself were holding near the stern. The captain called to me to help him get a better hold and I managed to pull him up on the bottom of the boat, when a sea struck us and washed us both off. I managed to regain my hold on the bottom of the boat; looking around I saw the captain clinging to the mast and sail which had washed out of the boat. When I last saw our brave captain he was drifting away holding on to the spar and sail. My strength was fast going and when poor Rogers asked me to help him get farther up on the boat the only thing I could do was to tell him to try to hold on as we were drifting nearer shore. But he had lost his strength, however, and failing to get a better hold he dropped beneath the waves. I was now alone on the bottom of the boat, and seeing that the center board had slipped part way out, I managed to get hold of it, and holding on with one hand managed with the other to get off my oil clothes, under coat, vest and boots. By that time the overturned boat had drifted down over the shoals near the barge Fitzpatrick, and when I sighted the craft I waved my hand as a signal for help. I soon saw the man on the barge fling a dory over the side, but could see nothing more after that of the dory owing to the mist and spray arising from the water. Finally it came in sight with a man rowing towards me, and it was brave Capt. Elmer Mayo. He pulled me into the boat. I was so used up I could not speak. To land in that small boat through that surf was a perilous undertaking, but Mayo was a skillful boatman and we landed safely. If those five men taken off the barge had kept their heads and done as we told them all hands would have landed in safety. STORY OF THE SLOOP TRUMBULL Between Highland and Race Point Lighthouses, on Cape Cod, stretches a long line of treacherous, dangerous sand bars. Situated midway between these points on the shore is the Coast Guard Building known as the Peaked Hill Bars Station. From this station the surfmen have rescued many lives and have seen many sailors go down to death in the raging sea. On November 30th, 1880, a cold northerly gale was sweeping down the coast from Massachusetts Bay and lashing into fury the waters that pounded over the sand bars from Race Point to Wellfleet.