"However, under the circumstances, I thought that the best thing I
could do was to clear out as quickly as possible, and, as it
happened, an Italian tramp, the 'Andrea Doria,' was about to sail
direct to Fowey to load up with china clay. She wasn't a bad sort of
vessel, as foreigners go, being built so lately as 1893, and her
captain and officers were quite decent fellows, especially from a
social point of view. Probably you remember the 'old man,' Luigi
Righi; he's been in this harbour several times, but, poor chap, I'm
afraid he won't enter again, unless his corpse is carried in by the
tide. The crew were all Italian, excepting a couple of Brazilians
shipped to replace some of the men who had deserted at Bahia. Well,
we cleared out of the harbour, high in ballast, and had an
uneventful run until we sighted the Longships, and here we fell in
with thick weather, which ended up with a regular southerly gale.
"We were able to catch only a glimpse of the Lizard lights, then
everything was blotted out in the mirk. I stayed up all night,
keeping on the bridge with the skipper and the second mate. About 11
p.m. the captain decided we were too close in shore, and telegraphed
to the engine-room to slow down to half-speed, intending to keep well
out until he could pick up the Eddystone lights, so I came to the
conclusion that he thought it safer to make for Plymouth rather than
enter Fowey Harbour in such a gale.
"Just as our helm was put hard-a-port, I saw a huge wave bearing down
on our starboard bow. It burst over our fo'c'sle in a solid mass,
carrying away everything movable, and, hearing a warning shout from
the captain, I cowered behind the canvas storm-dodgers, and held on
like grim death. The crest of the wave swept the bridge, tearing away
the greater part of the rail and the ladder, and with the former went
the mate. I could just distinguish his cry of terror above the
howling of the gale. The captain slid down one of the bridge
stanchions, and, needless to say, I followed suit, and on gaining the
shelter of the wheel-house we found that the steam steering-gear had
broken down. Almost at the same moment the chief engineer rushed on
deck reporting four feet of water in the engine-room, and the
quartermaster, staggering along from aft, announced that the loss of
the rudder had caused an alarming leak in the after-hold.
"The skipper seemed calm enough, for he translated his subordinate's
reports to me; but a few minutes afterwards up came the
panic-stricken engine-room staff, gesticulating, and calling on all
the saints in the calendar, while from the engine-room-hatch poured a
thick cloud of steam, and immediately afterwards the dull throb of
the propeller ceased, and we were helpless in the trough of the sea.
"It seemed hours that we drifted in utter helplessness, sea after sea
breaking in, carrying away all the boats on the starboard side,
while, by the vessel's sluggishness in shaking herself free, I knew
she was sinking fast.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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