A WRECK ON THE FLORIDA REEF.
After leaving Hatteras not another evidence of land was seen by the
passengers of the Nancy Bell for three days. At last one afternoon
"Captain Li" pointed out and called their attention to a slender shaft
rising apparently from the sea itself, far to the westward. He told
them that it was the light-house at Jupiter Inlet, well down on the
coast of Florida, and they regarded it with great interest, as giving
them their first glimpse of the land that was so soon to be their home.
The weather had by this time become very warm and instead of wearing
the thick clothing with which they had started, the Elmers found the
very thinnest of their last summer's things all that they could bear.
Mark had almost forgotten his sea-sickness, and spent much of his time
with Jan Jansen, who taught him to make knots and splices, to box the
compass and to steer. Both Mark and Ruth were tanned brown by the hot
sun, and Mr. Elmer said the warmth of the air had already made a new
man of him.
Before the light but steady trade-wind, that kept the air deliciously
cool, the Nancy Bell ran rapidly down the coast and along the great
Florida Reef, which, for two hundred miles, bounds that coast on the
south.
Captain Drew stood far out from the reef, being well aware of the
strong currents that set towards it from all directions, and which have
enticed many a good ship to her destruction. Others, however, were not
so wise as he, and at daylight one morning the watch on deck sang out,
"Wreck off the starboard bow!"
This brought all hands quickly on deck, and, sure enough, about five
miles from them they saw the wreck looming high out of the water, and
evidently stranded. As her masts, with their crossed yards, were still
standing, "Captain Li" said she must have struck very easily, and stood
a good chance of being saved if she could only be lightened before a
blow came that would roll a sea in on her.
"Are you going to her assistance?" asked Mr. Elmer.
"Certainly I am," answered the captain. "I consider that one of the
first duties of a sailor is to give aid to his fellows in distress.
Besides, if we succeed in saving her and her cargo, we stand a chance
of making several thousand dollars salvage money, which I for one do
not care to throw away."
"You are quite right," said Mr. Elmer. "It is seldom that we are
offered an opportunity of doing good and being well paid for it at the
same time, and it would be foolish, as well as heartless, not to render
what assistance lies in our power."
The schooner was already headed towards the wreck, but approached it
very slowly, owing to the light breeze that barely filled her sails. As
the sun rose, and cast a broad flood of light over the tranquil scene,
the captain anxiously scanned the line of the reef in both directions
through his glass.
"Ah, I thought so!" he exclaimed; "there they come, and there, and
there. I can count six already. Now we shall have a race for it."
"Who? what?" asked Mark, not understanding the captain's exclamations.
"Wreckers!" answered the captain. "Take the glass, and you can see
their sails coming from every direction; and they have seen us long ago
too. I actually believe those fellows can smell a wreck a hundred miles
off. Halloo there, forward! Stand by to lower the gig."
"What are you going to do?" asked Mr. Elmer.
"I am going to try and reach that wreck before any of the boats whose
sails you can see slipping out from behind those low keys. The first
man aboard that ship is 'wreck-master,' and gets the largest share of
salvage money."
So saying, "Captain Li" swung himself over the side and into the light
gig, which, with its crew of four lusty young Maine sailors, had
already been got overboard and now awaited him. As he seized the tiller
ropes he shouted, "Now, then, give way! and a hundred dollars extra
salvage to you four if this gig is the first boat to lay alongside of
that wreck."
At these words the long ash oars bent like willow wands in the grasp of
the young Northern giants, and the gig sprang away like a startled
bonito, leaving a long line of bubbles to mark her course.
The wreck was still three miles off; and, with the glass, small boats
could be seen shooting away from several of the approaching wrecking
vessels.
"It's a race between Conchs and Yankees," said Jan Jansen to Mark.
"What are Conchs?" asked the boy.
"Why, those fellows in the other boats. Most of them come from the
Bahama Islands, and all Bahamians are called 'Conchs,' because they eat
so many of the shell-fish of that name."
"Well, I'll bet on the Yankees!" cried Mark.
"So will I," said the Swede. "Yankee baked beans and brown bread make
better muscle than fish, which is about all the fellows down this way
get to live on."
As seen from the deck of the schooner, the race had by this time become
very exciting; for, as their boat approached the wreck on one side,
another, manned by red-shirted wreckers, who were exhibiting a
wonderful amount of pluck and endurance for "Conchs," as Jan called
them, was rapidly coming up on the other. It was hard to tell which was
the nearer; and while Mark shouted in his excitement, Mrs. Elmer and
Ruth waved their handkerchiefs, though their friends were too far away
to be encouraged by either the shouts or wavings.
At last "Captain Li's" boat dashed up alongside the wreck, and almost
at the same instant the wrecker's boat disappeared from view on the
opposite side.
With their glasses, those on the schooner saw their captain go up the
side of the ship, hand over hand, along a rope that had been thrown
him, and disappear over the bulwarks. They afterwards learned that he
reached the deck of the ship, and thus made himself master of the
wreck, just as the head of his rival appeared above the opposite side.
The wreck proved to be the ship Goodspeed, Captain Gillis, of and for
Liverpool, with cotton from New Orleans. During the calm of the
preceding night she had been caught by one of the powerful coast
currents, and stealthily but surely drawn into the toils. Shortly
before daylight she had struck on Pickle Reef, but so lightly and so
unexpectedly that her crew could hardly believe the slight jar they
felt was anything more than the shock of striking some large fish. They
soon found, however, that they were hard and fast aground, and had
struck on the very top of the flood tide, so that, as it ebbed, the
ship became more and more firmly fixed in her position. As the ship
settled with the ebbing tide she began to leak badly, and Captain
Gillis was greatly relieved when daylight disclosed to him the presence
of the Nancy Bell, and he greeted her captain most cordially as the
latter gained the deck of his ship.
By the time the schooner had approached the wreck, as nearly as her own
safety permitted, and dropped anchor for the first time since leaving
Bangor, a dozen little wrecking craft, manned by crews of swarthy
spongers and fishermen, had also reached the spot, and active
preparations for lightening the stranded ship were being made. Her
carefully battened hatches were uncovered, whips were rove to her lower
yards, and soon the tightly pressed bales of cotton began to appear
over her sides, and find their way into the light draught wrecking
vessels waiting to receive them. As soon as one of these was loaded,
she transferred her cargo to the Nancy Bell and returned for another.
While the wreckers were busily discharging the ship's cargo, her own
crew were overhauling long lines of chain cable, and lowering two large
anchors and two smaller ones into one of the wrecking boats that had
remained empty on purpose to receive them. The cables were paid out
over the stern of the ship, and made fast to the great anchors, which
were carried far out into the deep water beyond the reef. Each big
anchor was backed by a smaller one, to which it was attached by a
cable, and which was carried some distance beyond it before being
dropped overboard.
When the anchors were thus placed in position, the ends of the cables
still remaining on board the ship were passed around capstans, and by
means of the donkey-engine drawn taut.
At high tide that night a heavy strain was brought to bear on the
cables, in hopes that the ship might be pulled off the reef; but she
did not move, and the work of lightening her and searching for the leak
continued all the next day.
While all this work was going on the Elmers spent most of their time in
exploring the reef in the captain's gig, which was so light that Mr.
Elmer and Mark could easily row it.
As the clear water was without a ripple, they could look far down into
its depths, and see the bottom of branching coral, as beautiful as
frosted silver. From among its branches sprang great sea-fans, delicate
as lace-work, and showing, in striking contrast to the pure white of
the coral, the most vivid reds, greens, and royal purple. These, and
masses of feathery seaweeds, waved to and fro in the water as though
stirred by a light breeze, and among them darted and played fish as
brilliant in coloring as tropical birds. The boat seemed suspended in
midair above fairy-land, and even the children gazed down over its
sides in silence, for fear lest by speaking they should break the
charm, and cause the wonderful picture to vanish.
By noon the heat of the sun was so great that they sought shelter from
it on a little island, or key, of about an acre in extent, that was
covered with a luxuriant vegetation, and shaded by a group of stately
cocoa-nut palms. Mr. Elmer showed Mark how to climb one of these by
means of a bit of rope fastened loosely around his body and the smooth
trunk of the tree, and the boy succeeded in cutting off several bunches
of the great nuts that hung just below the wide-spreading crown of
leaves. They came to the ground with a crash, but the thick husk in
which each was enveloped saved them from breaking. The nuts were quite
green, and Mr. Elmer with a hatchet cut several of them open and handed
them to his wife and children. None of them contained any meat, for
that had not yet formed, but they were filled with a white, milky
fluid, which, as all of the party were very thirsty, proved a most
acceptable beverage.
After eating the luncheon they had brought with them, and satisfying
their thirst with the cocoa-nut milk, Mark and Ruth explored the beach
of the little island in search of shells, which they found in countless
numbers, of strange forms and most beautiful colors, while their
parents remained seated in the shade of the palms.
"Wouldn't it be gay if we could stay here always?" said Mark.
"No," answered the more practical Ruth; "I don't think it would be at
all. I would rather be where there are people and houses; besides, I
heard father say that these little islands are often entirely covered
with water during great storms, and I'm sure I wouldn't want to be here
then."
It was nearly sunset when they returned to the schooner, with their
boat well loaded with the shells and other curiosities that the
children had gathered.
At high tide that night the strain on the cables proved sufficient to
move the stranded ship, and, foot by foot, she was pulled off into deep
water, much to the joy of Captain Gillis and those who had worked with
him.
The next morning the entire fleet--ship, schooner, and wrecking
boats--set sail for Key West, which port they reached during the
afternoon, and where they found they would be obliged to spend a week
or more while an Admiralty Court settled the claims for salvage.