The Wreck of the Grosvenor, Volume 2 of 3: An account of the mutiny of the crew and the loss of the ship when trying to make the BermudasRussell, William Clark
General
The Wreck of the Grosvenor, Volume 2 of 3: An account of the mutiny of the crew and the loss of the ship when trying to make the Bermudas
I had no reason to suppose that the hints I took care to wrap up in my
conversation with Stevens would shape his actions to the form I wished
them to take; but though they did no good, they would certainly do me
no harm, and it was at least certain that my opinion was respected, so
that I might hope that some weight would attach to whatever suggestions
I offered.
Nothing now remained to be done but to wait the result of events; but
no language can express an idea of my anxiety as the hours passed,
bringing us momentarily closer to the dreaded and yet wished-for issue.
Some of the men got intoxicated that afternoon, and I believe two of
them had a desperate set to; they sang until they were tired, and for
tea had more hot roast pork and fowls.
But the majority had their senses, and kept those who were drunk under;
so that the riot was all forward.
I wondered what the boatswain would think of the shindy over his head,
and whether he had a watch to tell the time by. His abode was surely a
very dismal one, among the coals in the forepeak, and dark as night,
with plenty of rats to squeak about his ears, and the endless creaking
and complaining of the timbers under water.
A terrible idea possessed me once. It was that he might be asleep when
the man went down to scuttle the ship, who, of course, would take a
candle with him, and find him lying there.
But there was no use in _imagining_ evil. I could only do what was
possible. If we were doomed to die, why, we must meet our fate
heroically. What more?
It blew freshly at eleven o'clock, and held all night. I kept all
the sail on the ship that she would bear, and up to noon next day we
spanked along at a great pace.
Then the wind fell light and veered round to the north; but this did
not matter to me, for I showed the carpenter a run on the chart which
convincingly proved to him that, even if we did no more than four
knots an hour until next day, we should be near enough to the coast of
Florida to heave to.
This afternoon the men made preparations to swing the long-boat over
the side, clapping on strops to the collar of the mainstay, and forward
round the tressel-tree, ready to hook on the tackles to lift the boat
out of her chocks. Their eagerness to get away from the ship was well
illustrated by these early preparations.
All that day they fared sumptuously on roast pork, and whatever took
their fancy among the cuddy stores, but drank little, or at all events
not enough to affect them, though there was sufficient rum in the hold
to kill them all off in a day, had they had a mind to broach the casks.
Towards evening we sighted no less than five ships, two standing to the
south and the others steering north. The spectacle of these vessels
fully persuaded Stevens that we were nearing the coast, he telling me
he had no doubt they were from the West Indies, which he supposed were
not more than four hundred miles distant.
I did not undeceive him.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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