At Kingston, Jamaica, the crew of the _Phoenix_ found three other men-of-war lying in the harbor and they had a strong party for “kicking up a dust on shore,” with dancing until two o’clock every morning. Little did they think of what might be in store for them. Out of the four men-of-war not one was in existence four days later and not a man aboard any of them survived, except a few of the crew of the _Phoenix_. And what is more, the houses where the crews had been so merry were so completely destroyed that scarcely a vestige remained to show where they had stood. On September 30, the four warships set sail for Port Royal, around the eastern end of Jamaica. At eleven o’clock on the night of October 2, it began to “snuffle,” with a “monstrous heavy appearance to the eastward.” Sir Hyde sent for Lieutenant Archer. “What sort of weather have we, Archer?” “It blows a little and has a very ugly look; if in any other quarter, I should say we were going to have a gale of wind.” They had a very dirty night. At eight in the morning, with close-reefed topsails, the _Phoenix_ was fighting a hard blow from the east-northeast, and heavy squalls at times. Archer said he was once in a hurricane in the East Indies and the beginning of it had much the same appearance as this. The crew took in the topsails and were glad they had plenty of sea-room. On Sir Hyde’s orders, they secured all the sails with spare gaskets, put good rolling tackles on the yards, squared the booms, saw that the boats were all fast, lashed the guns, double-breeched the lower deckers, got the top-gallant mast down on the deck and, in fact, did everything to make a snug ship. “And now,” Archer wrote, “the poor birds began to suffer from the uproar of the elements and came on board. They turned to the windward like a ship, tack and tack, and dashed themselves down on the deck without attempting to stir till picked up. They would not leave the ship.” The carpenters were placed by the mainmast with broad axes, ready to cut it away to save the ship. Archer found the purser “frightened out of his wits” and two marine officers “white as sheets” from listening to the vibration of the lower deck guns, which were pulling loose and thrashing around. At every roll it seemed that the whole ship’s side was going. At twelve it was blowing a full hurricane. Archer came on deck and found Sir Hyde there. “It blows terribly hard, Archer.” “It does indeed, Sir.” “I don’t remember its blowing so hard before,” shouted Sir Hyde, striving to get his voice above the roar of the wind. “The ship makes good weather of it on this tack but we must wear her (to turn about by putting the helm up and the stern of the boat to the wind), as the wind has shifted to the southeast and we are fast drawing up on the Coast of Cuba.” “Sir, there is no canvas can stand against it a moment. We may lose three or four of our people in the effort. She’ll wear by manning the fire shrouds.”