Everything ran smoothly, fair winds and fair seas, until Saturday night, September 30th. We arrived at the head of the island of Luzon (Cape Engano). It was after dark--there was no light--the weather looked threatening. The captain and I discussed the matter and finally decided that it was not safe to try and go through this passage on a stormy night without being able to locate any landmarks. The captain was directed to cruise outside until daylight. About twelve o’clock that night the wind started blowing from N.N.W., gradually increasing into a gale; the vessel was headed into the wind and sea and rode very smoothly until Sunday morning, October 1st, when the wind began to shift, increasing in force, and for the next two days continued changing direction. Until the storm abated Tuesday morning, the wind was blowing from the S.E. The sea raised by this circular wind was tremendous. From Saturday night at twelve o’clock, for fifty-six hours, every man on board the vessel worked like a Trojan. Animals were continually being thrown from their feet, and the men worked getting them to their proper places. As the storm increased, so increased the labour--the men, almost exhausted, continuing their task. I cannot give them too much praise for their utter disregard of danger, and the heroism they displayed in trying to save their charges. Monday morning, October 2nd, at five o’clock, the captain of the ship gave orders to close the hatches to save the ship, and just then a tremendous sea swept over the vessel, throwing from their feet every animal on the port side of the ship and most of the animals on the starboard side; the vessel continued to do sharp rolling, so that these animals would shoot from one side of the deck to the other. It was absolutely impossible to do anything for them; some men had been injured, and I gave up the fight. I ordered every man to a place of safety in the forecastle, cabins, and chart-room, and we were forced to let the animals stay where they were. Three hundred and sixty odd animals shifted from side to side of the vessel, and it became too great a risk to make men face it when nothing could be accomplished. When I knew the captain had ordered the hatches closed (which I felt meant suffocation for those animals still alive in the holds), I knew he would not take this step if ingenuity or human skill could possibly avoid the danger. For a few hours I had no confidence in or hope of saving even the vessel. The wind was so strong that she was perfectly helpless; she would not mind her helm though going at forced speed, but had to drift helplessly in the direction the wind drove her.