Oct. 23. Notwithstanding the great quantity of water bailed from the vessel, she gained so considerably that she had visibly settled much deeper in the water. All hands were now called aft, in order to consult on the best measures. It was now unanimously resolved to make for the island of Bermudas, it being the nearest land. Accordingly we bore away for it, but had not sailed many leagues before we found that the great quantity of water in the vessel had impeded her steerage so much that she would scarcely answer her helm; and making a very heavy lurch, the ballast shifted, which gave her a great lift to the starboard, and rendered it very difficult to keep a firm footing on deck. The anchors which were stowed on the larboard bow were ordered to be cut away, and the cables which were on the orlop deck to be hove overboard in order to right her; but all this had a very trifling effect, for the ship was now become quite a log.
The crew were still employed in baling; one of whom, in preventing a bucket from being stove against the combings, let go his hold, and fell down the hatchway; with great difficulty he escaped being drowned or dashed against the ship’s sides. Having got into a bucket which was instantly lowered, he was providentially hoisted on deck without any injury.
During the night the weather became more moderate, and on the following morning, (Oct. 25), the gale had entirely subsided, but left a very heavy swell. Two large whales approached close to the ship. They sported around the vessel the whole of the day, and after dusk disappeared.
Having now no further use of the helm, it was lashed down, and the captain and mate took their spell at the buckets. My assistance having been also required, a boy of less strength, whose previous business was to attend the cook, now took my former station of serving the crew with refreshments. This lad had not long filled his new situation of drawing out rum from the cask, before he was tempted to taste it, and which having repeatedly done he soon became intoxicated, and was missed on deck for some time. I was sent to look for him. The spigot I perceived out of the cask, and the liquor running about, but the boy I could not see for some time; however looking down the lazeretto (the trap-door of which was lying open), I found him fast asleep. He had luckily fallen on some sails which were stowed there, or he must have perished.
On the 26th and 27th of Oct. the weather continued quite clear, with light baffling winds. A man was constantly kept aloft to look out for a sail. The rest of the crew were employed at the whips.
On the 28th the weather began to lower, and appeared inclined for rain. This gave some uneasiness, being apprehensive of a gale. The captain therefore directed the carpenter to overhaul the long-boat, caulk her, and raise a streak which orders were immediately complied with; but when he went to his locker for oakum, he found it plundered of nearly the whole of his stock—all hands were therefore set to picking, by which means he was soon supplied.
It was totally clear on the 29th, with a fresh breeze, but the ship heeled so much that her gunwale at times was under water, and the crew could scarcely stand on deck. All hands were now ordered to assemble aft, when the captain in a short address, pointed out the most probable manner by which they could be saved. All agreed in opinion with him, and it was resolved that the long-boat should be hoisted out as speedily as possible, and such necessaries as could be conveniently stowed, to be placed in her. Determined no longer to labor at the buckets, the vessel, which could not remain above water many hours after we had ceased baling, was now abandoned to her fate.
I now began to reflect on the small chance we had of being saved—twenty-two people in an open boat—upwards of three hundred miles from the land—in a boisterous climate, and the whole crew worn out with fatigue! The palms of the crew’s hands were already so flayed it could not be expected that they could do much execution with the oars—while thus reflecting on our perilous situation, one of our oldest seamen, who at this moment was standing near me, turned his head aside to wipe away a tear—I could not refrain from sympathizing with him—my heart was already full;—the captain perceiving my despondency bade me be of good cheer, and called me a young lubber.
The boat having been hoisted out, and such necessaries placed in her as were deemed requisite, one of the hands was sent aloft to lash the colors downwards to the main-top-mast shrouds; which having done, he placed himself on the crosstrees, to look around him, and almost instantly hallooed out,—“A sail.”—It would be impossible to describe the ecstatic emotions of the crew: every man was aloft, in order to be satisfied; though, a minute before, not one of the crew was able to stand upright.
The sail was on our weather-bow, bearing right down on us with a smart breeze. She soon perceived us, but hauled her wind several times, in order to examine our ship. As she approached nearer she clearly perceived our calamitous situation, and hastened to our relief.
She proved to be a Philadelphia schooner, bound to Cape Francois, in St. Domingo. The captain took us all on board in the most humane and friendly manner, and after casting our boat adrift, proceeded on his voyage. When we perceived our ship from the vessel on which we were now happily on board, her appearance was truly deplorable.
The captain of the schooner congratulated us on our fortunate escape, and expressed his surprise that the ship should remain so long on her beam ends, in such a heavy sea, without capsizing. We soon began to distance the wreck, by this time very low in the water, and shortly after lost sight of her.
The evening began to approach fast, when a man loosing the main-top-sail, descried a sail directly in the same course on our quarter. We made sail for her, and soon came within hail of her. She proved to be a brig from Glasgow, bound to Antigua. It was now determined, between the captains, that half of our people should remain in the schooner, and the captain, mate, eight of the crew, and myself, should get on board the brig. On our arrival at Antigua we met with much kindness and humanity.
LOSS OF HIS MAJESTY’S SHIP LITCHFIELD
The Litchfield, Captain Barton, left Ireland on the 11th of November, 1758, in company with several other men of war and transports, under the command of Commodore Keppel, intended for the reduction of Goree. The voyage was prosperous till the 28th, when at eight in the evening I took charge of the watch, and the weather turned out very squally with rain. At nine it was extremely dark, with much lightning, the wind varying from S. W. to W. N. W. At half past nine, had a very hard squall. Captain Barton came upon deck and staid till ten; then left orders to keep sight of the commodore, and to make what sail the weather would permit. At eleven, saw the commodore bearing south, but the squalls coming on so heavy, were obliged to hand the main-top-sail, and at twelve o’clock, were under our courses.
November the 29, at one in the morning, I left the deck in charge of the first lieutenant; the light, which we took to be the commodore’s right ahead, bearing S. wind W. S. W. blowing very hard; at six in the morning I was awakened by a great shock, and a confused noise of the men on deck. I ran up, thinking some ship had run foul of us, for, by my own reckoning, and that of every other person in the ship, we were at least 35 leagues distant from land; but, before I could reach the quarter-deck, the ship gave a great stroke upon the ground, and the sea broke all over her. Just after this, I could perceive the land, rocky, rugged and uneven, about two cables’ length from us. The ship lying with her broadside to windward, the masts soon went overboard, carrying some men with them. It is impossible for any one but a sufferer to feel our distress at this time; the masts, yards, and sails hanging alongside in a confused heap; the ship beating violently upon the rocks; the waves curling up to an incredible height, then dashing down with such force as if they would immediately have split the ship to pieces, which we, indeed, every moment expected. Having a little recovered from our confusion, saw it necessary to get every thing we could over to the larboard side, to prevent the ship from heeling off, and exposing the deck to the sea. Some of the people were very earnest to get the boats out contrary to advice; and, after much intreaty, notwithstanding a most terrible sea, one of the boats was launched, and eight of the best men jumped into her, but she had scarcely got to the ship’s stern, when she was whirled to the bottom, and every soul in her perished.