CHAPTER III.

November 21st. The morning dawned upon our wretched company. The weather

was fine, but the wind blew a strong breeze from the SE. and the sea was

very rugged. Watches had been kept up during the night, in our

respective boats, to see that none of the spars or other articles (which

continued to float out of the wreck,) should be thrown by the surf

against, and injure the boats. At sunrise, we began to think of doing

something; what, we did not know: we cast loose our boats, and visited

the wreck, to see if any thing more of consequence could be preserved,

but every thing looked cheerless and desolate, and we made a long and

vain search for any useful article; nothing could be found but a few

turtle; of these we had enough already; or at least, as many as could be

safely stowed in the boats, and we wandered around in every part of the

ship in a sort of vacant idleness for the greater part of the morning.

We were presently aroused to a perfect sense of our destitute and

forlorn condition; by thoughts of the means which we had for our

subsistence, the necessity of not wasting our time, and of endeavouring

to seek some relief wherever God might direct us. Our thoughts, indeed,

hung about the ship, wrecked and sunken as she was, and we could

scarcely discard from our minds the idea of her continuing protection.

Some great efforts in our situation were necessary, and a great deal of

calculation important, as it concerned the means by which our existence

was to be supported during, perhaps, a very long period, and a provision

for our eventual deliverance. Accordingly, by agreement, all set to work

in stripping off the light sails of the ship, for sails to our boats;

and the day was consumed in making them up and fitting them. We

furnished ourselves with masts and other light spars that were

necessary, from the wreck. Each boat was rigged with two masts, to carry

a flying-jib and two sprit-sails; the sprit-sails were made so that two

reefs could be taken in them, in case of heavy blows. We continued to

watch the wreck for any serviceable articles that might float from her,

and kept one man during the day, on the stump of her foremast, on the

look out for vessels. Our work was very much impeded by the increase of

the wind and sea, and the surf breaking almost continually into the

boats, gave us many fears that we should not be able to prevent our

provisions from getting wet; and above all served to increase the

constant apprehensions that we had, of the insufficiency of the boats

themselves, during the rough weather that we should necessarily

experience. In order to provide as much as possible against this, and

withal to strengthen the slight materials of which the boats were

constructed, we procured from the wreck some light cedar boards,

(intended to repair boats in cases of accidents,) with which we built up

additional sides, about six inches above the gunwale; these, we

afterwards found, were of infinite service for the purpose for which

they were intended; in truth, I am satisfied we could never have been

preserved without them; the boats must otherwise have taken in so much

water that all the efforts of twenty such weak, starving men as we

afterwards came to be, would not have sufficed to keep her free; but

what appeared most immediately to concern us, and to command all our

anxieties, was the security of our provisions from the salt water. We

disposed of them under a covering of wood, that whale boats have at

either end of them, wrapping it up in several thicknesses of canvass. I

got an observation to-day, by which I found we were in latitude 0° 6′ S.

longitude 119° 30′ W. having been driven by the winds a distance of

forty-nine miles the last twenty-four hours; by this it would appear

that there must have been a strong current, setting us to the NW. during

the whole time. We were not able to finish our sails in one day; and

many little things preparatory to taking a final leave of the ship were

necessary to be attended to, but evening came and put an end to our

labours. We made the same arrangements for mooring the boats in safety,

and consigned ourselves to the horrors of another tempestuous night. The

wind continued to blow hard, keeping up a heavy sea, and veering around

from SE. to E. and E.SE. As the gloom of night approached, and obliged

us to desist from that employment, which cheated us out of some of the

realities of our situation, we all of us again became mute and

desponding: a considerable degree of alacrity had been manifested by

many the preceding day, as their attention had been wholly engaged in

scrutinizing the wreck, and in constructing the sails and spars for the

boats; but when they ceased to be occupied, they passed to a sudden fit

of melancholy, and the miseries of their situation came upon them with

such force, as to produce spells of extreme debility, approaching almost

to fainting. Our provisions were scarcely touched—the appetite was

entirely gone: but as we had a great abundance of water, we indulged in

frequent and copious draughts, which our parched mouths seemed

continually to need. None asked for bread. Our continued state of

anxiety during the night, excluded all hopes of sleep; still, (although

the solemn fact had been before me for nearly two days,) my mind

manifested the utmost repugnance to be reconciled to it; I laid down in

the bottom of the boat, and resigned myself to reflection; my silent

prayers were offered up to the God of mercy, for that protection which

we stood so much in need of. Sometimes, indeed, a light hope would dawn,

but then, to feel such an utter dependence on and consignment to chance

alone for aid and rescue, would chase it again from my mind. The

wreck—the mysterious and mortal attack of the animal—the sudden

prostration and sinking of the vessel—our escape from her, and our then

forlorn and almost hapless destiny, all passed in quick and perplexing

review in my imagination; wearied with the exertion of the body and

mind, I caught, near morning, an hour’s respite from my troubles, in

sleep.

November 22d. The wind remained the same, and the weather continued

remarkably fine. At sunrise, we again hauled our boats up, and continued

our search for articles that might float out. About 7 o’clock, the deck

of the wreck began to give way, and every appearance indicated her

speedy dissolution; the oil had bilged in the hold, and kept the surface

of the sea all around us completely covered with it; the bulk-heads were

all washed down, and she worked in every part of her joints and seams,

with the violent and continual breaking of the surf over her. Seeing, at

last, that little or nothing further could be done by remaining with the

wreck, and as it was all important that while our provisions lasted, we

should make the best possible use of time, I rowed up to the captain’s

boat, and asked him what he intended to do. I informed him that the

ship’s decks had bursted up, and that in all probability she would soon

go to pieces; that no further purpose could be answered, by remaining

longer with her, since nothing more could be obtained from her; and that

it was my opinion, no time should be lost in making the best of our way

towards the nearest land. The captain observed, that he would go once

more to the wreck, and survey her, and after waiting until 12 o’clock

for the purpose of getting an observation, would immediately after

determine. In the mean time, before noon all our sails were completed,

and the boats otherwise got in readiness for our departure. Our

observation now proved us to be in latitude 0° 13′ N. longitude 120° 00′

W. as near as we could determine it, having crossed the equator during

the night, and drifted nineteen miles. The wind had veered considerably

to the eastward, during the last twenty-four hours. Our nautical

calculations having been completed, the captain, after visiting the

wreck, called a council, consisting of himself and the first and second

mates, who all repaired to his boat, to interchange opinions, and devise

the best means for our security and preservation. There were, in all of

us, twenty men; six of whom were blacks, and we had three boats. We

examined our navigators, to ascertain the nearest land, and found it was

the Marquesas Islands. The Society Islands were next; these islands we

were entirely ignorant of; if inhabited, we presumed they were by

savages, from whom we had as much to fear, as from the elements, or even

death itself. We had no charts from which our calculations might be

aided, and were consequently obliged to govern ourselves by the

navigators alone; it was also the captain’s opinion, that this was the

season of the hurricanes which prevail in the vicinity of the Sandwich

Islands, and that consequently it would be unsafe to steer for them. The

issue of our deliberations was, that, taking all things into

consideration, it would be most adviseable to shape our course by the

wind, to the southward, as far as 25° or 26° S. latitude, fall in with

the variable winds, and then, endeavour to get eastward to the coast of

Chili or Peru. Accordingly, preparations were made for our immediate

departure; the boat which it was my fortune, or rather misfortune to

have, was the worst of the three; she was old and patched up, having

been stove a number of times, during the cruise. At best, a whale boat

is an extremely frail thing; the most so of any other kind of boat; they

are what is called clinker built, and constructed of the lightest

materials, for the purpose of being rowed with the greatest possible

celerity, according to the necessities of the business for which they

are intended. Of all species of vessels, they are the weakest, and most

fragile, and possess but one advantage over any other—that of lightness

and buoyancy, that enables them to keep above the dash of the sea, with

more facility than heavier ones. This qualification is, however,

preferable to that of any other, and, situated as we then were, I would

not have exchanged her, old and crazy as she was, for even a ship’s

launch. I am quite confident, that to this quality of our boats we most

especially owed our preservation, through the many days and nights of

heavy weather, that we afterwards encountered. In consideration of my

having the weakest boat, six men were allotted to it; while those of the

captain and second mate, took seven each, and at half past 12 we left

the wreck, steering our course, with nearly all sail set, S.SE. At four

o’clock in the afternoon we lost sight of her entirely. Many were the

lingering and sorrowful looks we cast behind us.

It has appeared to me often since to have been, in the abstract, an

extreme weakness and folly, on our parts, to have looked upon our

shattered and sunken vessel with such an excessive fondness and regret;

but it seemed as if in abandoning her we had parted with all hope, and

were bending our course away from her, rather by some dictate of

despair. We agreed to keep together, in our boats, as nearly as

possible, to afford assistance in cases of accident, and to render our

reflections less melancholy by each other’s presence. I found it on this

occasion true, that misery does indeed love company; unaided, and

unencouraged by each other, there were with us many whose weak minds, I

am confident, would have sunk under the dismal retrospections of the

past catastrophe, and who did not possess either sense or firmness

enough to contemplate our approaching destiny, without the cheering of

some more determined countenance than their own. The wind was strong all

day; and the sea ran very high, our boat taking in water from her leaks

continually, so that we were obliged to keep one man constantly bailing.

During the night the weather became extremely rugged, and the sea every

now and then broke over us. By agreement, we were divided into two

watches; one of which was to be constantly awake, and doing the labours

of the boat, such as bailing; setting, taking in, and trimming the

sails. We kept our course very well together during this night, and had

many opportunities of conversation with the men in the other boats,

wherein the means and prospects of our deliverance were variously

considered; it appeared from the opinions of all, that we had most to

hope for in the meeting with some vessel, and most probably some whale

ship, the great majority of whom, in those seas, we imagined were

cruising about the latitude we were then steering for; but this was only

a hope, the realization of which did not in any degree depend on our own

exertions, but on chance alone. It was not, therefore, considered

prudent, by going out of our course, with the prospect of meeting them,

to lose sight, for one moment, of the strong probabilities which, under

Divine Providence, there were of our reaching land by the route we had

prescribed to ourselves; as that depended, most especially, on a

reasonable calculation, and on our own labours, we conceived that our

provision and water, on a small allowance, would last us sixty days;

that with the trade-wind, on the course we were then lying, we should be

able to average the distance of a degree a day, which, in 26 days, would

enable us to attain the region of the variable winds, and then, in

thirty more, at the very utmost, should there be any favour in the

elements, we might reach the coast. With these considerations we

commenced our voyage; the total failure of all which, and the subsequent

dismal distress and suffering, by which we were overtaken, will be shown

in the sequel. Our allowance of provision at first consisted of bread;

one biscuit, weighing about one pound three ounces, and half a pint of

water a day, for each man. This small quantity, (less than one third

which is required by an ordinary person,) small as it was, we however

took without murmuring, and, on many an occasion afterwards, blest God

that even this pittance was allowed to us in our misery. The darkness of

another night overtook us; and after having for the first time partook

of our allowance of bread and water, we laid our weary bodies down in

the boat, and endeavoured to get some repose. Nature became at last worn

out with the watchings and anxieties of the two preceding nights, and

sleep came insensibly upon us. No dreams could break the strong

fastenings of forgetfulness in which the mind was then locked up; but

for my own part, my thoughts so haunted me that this luxury was yet a

stranger to my eyes; every recollection was still fresh before me, and I

enjoyed but a few short and unsatisfactory slumbers, caught in the

intervals between my hopes and my fears. The dark ocean and swelling

waters were nothing; the fears of being swallowed up by some dreadful

tempest, or dashed upon hidden rocks, with all the other ordinary

subjects of fearful contemplation, seemed scarcely entitled to a

moment’s thought; the dismal looking wreck, and the horrid aspect and

revenge of the whale, wholly engrossed my reflections, until day again

made its appearance.

November 23d. In my chest, which I was fortunate enough to preserve, I

had several small articles, which we found of great service to us; among

the rest, some eight or ten sheets of writing paper, a lead pencil, a

suit of clothes, three small fish-hooks, a jack-knife, a whetstone, and

a cake of soap. I commenced to keep a sort of journal with the little

paper and pencil which I had; and the knife, besides other useful

purposes, served us as a razor. It was with much difficulty, however,

that I could keep any sort of record, owing to the incessant rocking and

unsteadiness of the boat, and the continual dashing of the spray of the

sea over us. The boat contained, in addition to the articles enumerated,

a lantern, tinder-box, and two or three candles, which belonged to her,

and with which they are kept always supplied, while engaged in taking

whale. In addition to all which, the captain had saved a musket, two

pistols, and a canister, containing about two pounds of gunpowder; the

latter he distributed in equal proportions between the three boats, and

gave the second mate and myself each a pistol. When morning came we

found ourselves quite near together, and the wind had considerably

increased since the day before; we were consequently obliged to reef our

sails; and although we did not apprehend any very great danger from the

then violence of the wind, yet it grew to be very uncomfortable in the

boats, from the repeated dashing of the waves, that kept our bodies

constantly wet with the salt spray. We, however, stood along our course

until twelve o’clock, when we got an observation, as well as we were

able to obtain one, while the water flew all over us, and the sea kept

the boat extremely unsteady. We found ourselves this day in latitude 0°

58′ S. having repassed the equator. We abandoned the idea altogether of

keeping any correct longitudinal reckoning, having no glass, nor

log-line. The wind moderated in the course of the afternoon a little,

but at night came on to blow again almost a gale. We began now to

tremble for our little barque; she was so ill calculated, in point of

strength, to withstand the racking of the sea, while it required the

constant labours of one man to keep her free of water. We were

surrounded in the afternoon with porpoises that kept playing about us in

great numbers, and continued to follow us during the night.

November 24th. The wind had not abated any since the preceding day, and

the sea had risen to be very large, and increased, if possible, the

extreme uncomfortableness of our situation. What added more than any

thing else to our misfortunes, was, that all our efforts for the

preservation of our provisions proved, in a great measure, ineffectual;

a heavy sea broke suddenly into the boat, and, before we could snatch it

up, damaged some part of it; by timely attention, however, and great

caution, we managed to make it eatable, and to preserve the rest from a

similar casualty. This was a subject of extreme anxiety to us; the

expectation, poor enough of itself indeed, upon which our final rescue

was founded, must change at once to utter hopelessness, deprived of our

provisions, the only means of continuing us in the exercise, not only of

our manual powers, but in those of reason itself; hence, above all other

things, this was the object of our utmost solicitude and pains.

We ascertained, the next day, that some of the provisions in the

captain’s boat had shared a similar fate during the night; both which

accidents served to arouse us to a still stronger sense of our slender

reliance upon the human means at our command, and to show us our utter

dependence on that divine aid which we so much the more stood in need

of.

November 25th. No change of wind had yet taken place, and we experienced

the last night the same wet and disagreeable weather of the preceding

one. About eight o’clock in the morning we discovered that the water

began to come fast in our boat, and in a few minutes the quantity

increased to such a degree as to alarm us considerably for our safety;

we commenced immediately a strict search in every part of her to

discover the leak, and, after tearing up the ceiling or floor of the

boat near the bows, we found it proceeded from one of the streaks or

outside boards having bursted off there; no time was to be lost in

devising some means to repair it. The great difficulty consisted in its

being in the bottom of the boat, about six inches from the surface of

the water; it was necessary, therefore, to have access to the outside,

to enable us to fasten it on again: the leak being to leeward, we hove

about, and lay to on the other tack, which brought it then nearly out of

water; the captain, who was at the time ahead of us, seeing us

manœuvring to get the boat about, shortened sail, and presently tacked,

and ran down to us. I informed him of our situation, and he came

immediately alongside to our assistance. After directing all the men in

the boat to get on one side, the other, by that means, heeled out of the

water a considerable distance, and, with a little difficulty, we then

managed to drive in a few nails, and secured it, much beyond our

expectations. Fears of no ordinary kind were excited by this seemingly

small accident. When it is recollected to what a slight vessel we had

committed ourselves; our means of safety alone consisting in her

capacity and endurance for many weeks, in all probability, yet to come,

it will not be considered strange that this little accident should not

only have damped our spirits considerably, but have thrown a great

gloominess over the natural prospects of our deliverance. On this

occasion, too, were we enabled to rescue ourselves from inevitable

destruction by the possession of a few nails, without which, (had it not

been our fortune to save some from the wreck,) we would, in all human

calculation, have been lost: we were still liable to a recurrence of the

same accident, perhaps to a still worse one, as, in the heavy and

repeated racking of the swell, the progress of our voyage would serve

but to increase the incapacity and weakness of our boat, and the

starting of a single nail in her bottom would most assuredly prove our

certain destruction. We wanted not this additional reflection, to add to

the miseries of our situation.

November 26th. Our sufferings, heaven knows, were now sufficiently

increased, and we looked forward, not without an extreme dread, and

anxiety, to the gloomy and disheartening prospect before us. We

experienced a little abatement of wind and rough weather to-day, and

took the opportunity of drying the bread that had been wet the day

previously; to our great joy and satisfaction also, the wind hauled out

to E.NE. and enabled us to hold a much more favourable course; with

these exceptions, no circumstance of any considerable interest occurred

in the course of this day.

The 27th of November was alike undistinguished for any incident worthy

of note; except that the wind again veered back to E. and destroyed the

fine prospect we had entertained, of making a good run for several days

to come.

November 28th. The wind hauled still further to the southward, and

obliged us to fall off our course to S. and commenced to blow with such

violence, as to put us again under short sail; the night set in

extremely dark, and tempestuous, and we began to entertain fears that we

should be separated. We however, with great pains, managed to keep about

a ship’s length apart, so that the white sails of our boats could be

distinctly discernable. The captain’s boat was but a short distance

astern of mine, and that of the second mate a few rods to leeward of

his. At about 11 o’clock at night, having laid down to sleep, in the

bottom of the boat, I was suddenly awakened by one of my companions, who

cried out, that the captain was in distress, and was calling on us for

assistance. I immediately aroused myself, and listened a moment, to hear

if any thing further should be said, when the captain’s loud voice

arrested my attention. He was calling to the second mate, whose boat was

nearer to him than mine. I made all haste to put about, ran down to him,

and inquired what was the matter; he replied, “I have been attacked by

an unknown fish, and he has stove my boat.” It appeared, that some large

fish had accompanied the boat for a short distance, and had suddenly

made an unprovoked attack upon her, as nearly as they could determine,

with his jaws; the extreme darkness of the night prevented them from

distinguishing what kind of animal it was, but they judged it to be

about twelve feet in length, and one of the killer-fish species. After

having struck the boat once, he continued to play about her, on every

side, as if manifesting a disposition to renew the attack, and did a

second time strike the bows of the boat, and split her stem. They had no

other instrument of offence, but the sprit-pole, (a long slender piece

of wood, by which the peak of the sail is extended,) with which, after

repeated attempts to destroy the boat, they succeeded in beating him

off. I arrived, just as he had discontinued his operations, and

disappeared. He had made a considerable breach in the bows of the boat,

through which the water had began to pour fast; and the captain,

imagining matters to be considerably worse than they were, immediately

took measures to remove his provisions into the second mate’s boat and

mine, in order to lighten his own, and by that means, and constant

bailing, to keep her above water until daylight should enable him to

discover the extent of the damage, and to repair it. The night was

spissy darkness itself; the sky was completely overcast, and it seemed

to us as if fate was wholly relentless, in pursuing us with such a cruel

complication of disasters. We were not without our fears that the fish

might renew his attack, some time during the night, upon one of the

other boats, and unexpectedly destroy us; but they proved entirely

groundless, as he was never afterwards seen. When daylight came, the

wind again favoured us a little, and we all lay to, to repair the broken

boat; which was effected by nailing on thin strips of boards in the

inside; and having replaced the provisions, we proceeded again on our

course. Our allowance of water, which in the commencement, merely served

to administer to the positive demands of nature, became now to be

insufficient; and we began to experience violent thirst, from the

consumption of the provisions that had been wet with the salt water, and

dried in the sun; of these we were obliged to eat first, to prevent

their spoiling; and we could not, nay, we did not dare, to make any

encroachments on our stock of water. Our determination was, to suffer as

long as human patience and endurance would hold out, having only in

view, the relief that would be afforded us, when the quantity of wet

provisions should be exhausted. Our extreme sufferings here first

commenced. The privation of water is justly ranked among the most

dreadful of the miseries of our life; the violence of raving thirst has

no parallel in the catalogue of human calamities. It was our hard lot to

have felt this in its extremest force, when necessity subsequently

compelled us to seek resource from one of the offices of nature. We were

not, at first, aware of the consequences of eating this bread, and it

was not until the fatal effects of it had shown themselves to a degree

of oppression, that we could divine the cause of our extreme thirst.

But, alas! there was no relief. Ignorant, or instructed of the fact, it

was alike immaterial; it composed a part of our subsistence, and reason

imposed upon us the necessity of its immediate consumption, as otherwise

it would have been lost to us entirely.

November 29th. Our boats appeared to be growing daily more frail and

insufficient; the continual flowing of the water into them, seemed

increased, without our being able to assign it to any thing else, than a

general weakness, arising from causes that must in a short time, without

some remedy or relief, produce their total failure. We did not neglect,

however, to patch up and mend them, according to our means, whenever we

could discover a broken or weak part. We this day found ourselves

surrounded by a shoal of dolphins; some, or one of which, we tried in

vain a long time to take. We made a small line from some rigging that

was in the boat, fastened on one of the fish-hooks, and tied to it a

small piece of white rag; they took not the least notice of it, but

continued playing around us, nearly all day, mocking both our miseries

and our efforts.

November 30th. This was a remarkably fine day; the weather not exceeded

by any that we had experienced since we left the wreck. At one o’clock,

I proposed to our boat’s crew to kill one of the turtle; two of which we

had in our possession. I need not say, that the proposition was hailed

with the utmost enthusiasm; hunger had set its ravenous gnawings upon

our stomachs, and we waited with impatience to suck the warm flowing

blood of the animal. A small fire was kindled in the shell of the

turtle, and after dividing the blood, (of which there was about a gill,)

among those of us who felt disposed to drink it, we cooked the

remainder, entrails and all, and enjoyed from it an unspeakably fine

repast. The stomachs of two or three revolted at the sight of the blood,

and refused to partake of it; not even the outrageous thirst that was

upon them could induce them to taste it; for myself, I took it like a

medicine, to relieve the extreme dryness of my palate, and stopped not

to inquire whether it was any thing else than a liquid. After this, I

may say exquisite banquet, our bodies were considerably recruited, and I

felt my spirits now much higher than they had been at any time before.

By observation, this day we found ourselves in latitude 7° 53′ S. our

distance from the wreck, as nearly as we could calculate, was then about

four hundred and eighty miles.

December 1st. From the 1st to the 3d of December, exclusive, there was

nothing transpired of any moment. Our boats as yet kept admirably well

together, and the weather was distinguished for its mildness and

salubrity. We gathered consolation too from a favourable slant which the

wind took to NE. and our situation was not at that moment, we thought,

so comfortless as we had been led at first to consider it; but, in our

extravagant felicitations upon the blessing of the wind and weather, we

forgot our leaks, our weak boats, our own debility, our immense distance

from land, the smallness of our stock of provisions; all which, when

brought to mind, with the force which they deserved, were too well

calculated to dishearten us, and cause us to sigh for the hardships of

our lot. Up to the 3d of December, the raging thirst of our mouths had

not been but in a small degree alleviated; had it not been for the pains

which that gave us, we should have tasted, during this spell of fine

weather, a species of enjoyment, derived from a momentary forgetfulness

of our actual situation.

December 3d. With great joy we hailed the last crumb of our damaged

bread, and commenced this day to take our allowance of healthy

provisions. The salutary and agreeable effects of this change were felt

at first in so slight a degree, as to give us no great cause of comfort

or satisfaction; but gradually, as we partook of our small allowance of

water, the moisture began to collect in our mouths, and the parching

fever of the palate imperceptibly left it. An accident here happened to

us which gave us a great momentary spell of uneasiness. The night was

dark, and the sky was completely overcast, so that we could scarcely

discern each other’s boats, when at about ten o’clock, that of the

second mate was suddenly missing. I felt for a moment considerable alarm

at her unexpected disappearance; but after a little reflection I

immediately hove to, struck a light as expeditiously as possible, and

hoisted it at the mast-head, in a lantern. Our eyes were now directed

over every part of the ocean, in search of her, when, to our great joy,

we discerned an answering light, about a quarter of a mile to leeward of

us; we ran down to it, and it proved to be the lost boat. Strange as the

extraordinary interest which we felt in each other’s company may appear,

and much as our repugnance to separation may seem to imply of weakness,

it was the subject of our continual hopes and fears. It is truly

remarked, that misfortune more than any thing else serves to endear us

to our companions. So strongly was this sentiment engrafted upon our

feelings, and so closely were the destinies of all of us involuntarily

linked together, that, had one of the boats been wrecked, and wholly

lost, with all her provisions and water, we should have felt ourselves

constrained, by every tie of humanity, to have taken the surviving

sufferers into the other boats, and shared our bread and water with

them, while a crumb of one or a drop of the other remained. Hard,

indeed, would the case have been for all, and much as I have since

reflected on the subject, I have not been able to realize, had it so

happened, that a sense of our necessities would have allowed us to give

so magnanimous and devoted a character to our feelings. I can only speak

of the impressions which I recollect I had at the time. Subsequently,

however, as our situation became more straightened and desperate, our

conversation on this subject took a different turn; and it appeared to

be an universal sentiment, that such a course of conduct was calculated

to weaken the chances of a final deliverance for some, and might be the

only means of consigning every soul of us to a horrid death of

starvation. There is no question but that an immediate separation,

therefore, was the most politic measure that could be adopted, and that

every boat should take its own separate chance: while we remained

together, should any accident happen, of the nature alluded to, no other

course could be adopted, than that of taking the survivers into the

other boats, and giving up voluntarily, what we were satisfied could

alone prolong our hopes, and multiply the chances of our safety, or

unconcernedly witness their struggles in death, perhaps beat them from

our boats, with weapons, back into the ocean. The expectation of

reaching the land was founded upon a reasonable calculation of the

distance, the means, and the subsistence; all which were scanty enough,

God knows, and ill adapted to the probable exigences of the voyage. Any

addition to our own demands, in this respect, would not only injure, but

actually destroy the whole system which we had laid down, and reduce us

to a slight hope, derived either from the speedy death of some of our

crew, or the falling in with some vessel. With all this, however, there

was a desperate instinct that bound us together; we could not reason on

the subject with any degree of satisfaction to our minds, yet we

continued to cling to each other with a strong and involuntary impulse.

This, indeed, was a matter of no small difficulty, and it constituted,

more than any thing else, a source of continual watching and inquietude.

We would but turn our eyes away for a few moments, during some dark

nights, and presently, one of the boats would be missing. There was no

other remedy than to heave to immediately and set a light, by which the

missing boat might be directed to us. These proceedings necessarily

interfered very much with our speed, and consequently lessened our

hopes; but we preferred to submit to it, while the consequences were not

so immediately felt, rather than part with the consolation which each

other’s presence afforded. Nothing of importance took place on the 4th

of December; and on the 5th, at night, owing to the extreme darkness,

and a strong wind, I again separated from the other boats. Finding they

were not to be seen in any direction, I loaded my pistol and fired it

twice; soon after the second discharge they made their appearance a

short distance to windward, and we joined company, and again kept on our

course, in which we continued without any remarkable occurrence, through

the 6th and 7th of December. The wind during this period blew very

strong, and much more unfavourably. Our boats continued to leak, and to

take in a good deal of water over the gunwales.

December 8th. In the afternoon of this day the wind set in E.SE. and

began to blow much harder than we had yet experienced it; by twelve

o’clock at night it had increased to a perfect gale, with heavy showers

of rain, and we now began, from these dreadful indications, to prepare

ourselves for destruction. We continued to take in sail by degrees, as

the tempest gradually increased, until at last we were obliged to take

down our masts. At this juncture we gave up entirely to the mercy of the

waves. The sea and rain had wet us to the skin, and we sat down,

silently, and with sullen resignation, awaiting our fate. We made an

effort to catch some fresh water by spreading one of the sails, but

after having spent a long time, and obtained but a small quantity in a

bucket, it proved to be quite as salt as that from the ocean: this we

attributed to its having passed through the sail which had been so often

wet by the sea, and upon which, after drying so frequently in the sun,

concretions of salt had been formed. It was a dreadful night—cut off

from any imaginary relief—nothing remained but to await the approaching

issue with firmness and resignation. The appearance of the heavens was

dark and dreary, and the blackness that was spread over the face of the

waters dismal beyond description. The heavy squalls, that followed each

other in quick succession, were preceded by sharp flashes of lightning,

that appeared to wrap our little barge in flames. The sea rose to a

fearful height, and every wave that came looked as if it must be the

last that would be necessary for our destruction. To an overruling

Providence alone must be attributed our salvation from the horrors of

that terrible night. It can be accounted for in no other way: that a

speck of substance, like that which we were, before the driving terrors

of the tempest, could have been conducted safely through it. At twelve

o’clock it began to abate a little in intervals of two or three minutes,

during which we would venture to raise up our heads and look to

windward. Our boat was completely unmanageable; without sails, mast, or

rudder, and had been driven, in the course of the afternoon and night,

we knew not whither, nor how far. When the gale had in some measure

subsided we made efforts to get a little sail upon her, and put her head

towards the course we had been steering. My companions had not slept any

during the whole night, and were dispirited and broken down to such a

degree as to appear to want some more powerful stimulus than the fears

of death to enable them to do their duty. By great exertions, however,

towards morning we again set a double-reefed mainsail and jib upon her,

and began to make tolerable progress on the voyage. An unaccountable

good fortune had kept the boats together during all the troubles of the

night: and the sun rose and showed the disconsolate faces of our

companions once more to each other.

December 9th. By twelve o’clock this day we were enabled to set all sail

as usual; but there continued to be a very heavy sea running, which

opened the seams of the boats, and increased the leaks to an alarming

degree. There was, however, no remedy for this but continual bailing,

which had now become to be an extremely irksome and laborious task. By

observation we found ourselves in latitude 17° 40′ S. At eleven o’clock

at night, the captain’s boat was unexpectedly found to be missing. After

the last accident of this kind we had agreed, if the same should again

occur, that, in order to save our time, the other boats should not heave

to, as usual, but continue on their course until morning, and thereby

save the great detention that must arise from such repeated delays. We,

however, concluded on this occasion to make a small effort, which, if it

did not immediately prove the means of restoring the lost boat, we would

discontinue, and again make sail. Accordingly we hove to for an hour,

during which time I fired my pistol twice, and obtaining no tidings of

the boat, we stood on our course. When daylight appeared she was to

leeward of us, about two miles; upon observing her we immediately ran

down, and again joined company.

December 10th. I have omitted to notice the gradual advances which

hunger and thirst, for the last six days, had made upon us. As the time

had lengthened since our departure from the wreck, and the allowance of

provision, making the demands of the appetite daily more and more

importunate, they had created in us an almost uncontrollable temptation

to violate our resolution, and satisfy, for once, the hard yearnings of

nature from our stock; but a little reflection served to convince us of

the imprudence and unmanliness of the measure, and it was abandoned with

a sort of melancholy effort of satisfaction. I had taken into custody,

by common consent, all the provisions and water belonging to the boat,

and was determined that no encroachments should be made upon it with my

consent; nay, I felt myself bound, by every consideration of duty, by

every dictate of sense, of prudence, and discretion, without which, in

my situation, all other exertions would have been folly itself, to

protect them, at the hazard of my life. For this purpose I locked up in

my chest the whole quantity, and never, for a single moment, closed my

eyes without placing some part of my person in contact with the chest;

and having loaded my pistol, kept it constantly about me. I should not

certainly have put any threats in execution as long as the most distant

hopes of reconciliation existed; and was determined, in case the least

refractory disposition should be manifested, (a thing which I

contemplated not unlikely to happen, with a set of starving wretches

like ourselves,) that I would immediately divide our subsistence into

equal proportions, and give each man’s share into his own keeping. Then,

should any attempt be made upon mine, which I intended to mete out to

myself, according to exigences, I was resolved to make the consequences

of it fatal. There was, however, the most upright and obedient behaviour

in this respect manifested by every man in the boat, and I never had the

least opportunity of proving what my conduct would have been on such an

occasion. While standing on our course this day we came across a small

shoal of flying fish: four of which, in their efforts to avoid us, flew

against the mainsail, and dropped into the boat; one, having fell near

me, I eagerly snatched up and devoured; the other three were immediately

taken by the rest, and eaten alive. For the first time I, on this

occasion, felt a disposition to laugh, upon witnessing the ludicrous and

almost desperate efforts of my five companions, who each sought to get a

fish. They were very small of the kind, and constituted but an extremely

delicate mouthful, scales, wings, and all, for hungry stomachs like

ours. From the eleventh to the thirteenth of December inclusive, our

progress was very slow, owing to light winds and calms; and nothing

transpired of any moment, except that on the eleventh we killed the only

remaining turtle, and enjoyed another luxuriant repast, that invigorated

our bodies, and gave a fresh flow to our spirits. The weather was

extremely hot, and we were exposed to the full force of a meridian sun,

without any covering to shield us from its burning influence, or the

least breath of air to cool its parching rays. On the thirteenth day of

December we were blessed with a change of wind to the northward, that

brought us a most welcome and unlooked for relief. We now, for the first

time, actually felt what might be deemed a reasonable hope of our

deliverance; and with hearts bounding with satisfaction, and bosoms

swelling with joy, we made all sail to the eastward. We imagined we had

run out of the tradewinds, and had got into the variables, and should,

in all probability, reach the land many days sooner than we expected.

But, alas! our anticipations were but a dream, from which we shortly

experienced a cruel awaking. The wind gradually died away, and at night

was succeeded by a perfect calm, more oppressive and disheartening to

us, from the bright prospects which had attended during the day. The

gloomy reflections that this hard fortune had given birth to, were

succeeded by others, of a no less cruel and discouraging nature, when we

found the calm continue during the fourteenth, fifteenth, and sixteenth

of December inclusive. The extreme oppression of the weather, the sudden

and unexpected prostration of our hopes, and the consequent dejection of

our spirits, set us again to thinking, and filled our souls with fearful

and melancholy forebodings. In this state of affairs, seeing no

alternative left us but to employ to the best advantage all human

expedients in our power, I proposed, on the fourteenth, to reduce our

allowance of provisions one-half. No objections were made to this

arrangement: all submitted, or seemed to do so, with an admirable

fortitude and forbearance. The proportion which our stock of water bore

to our bread was not large; and while the weather continued so

oppressive, we did not think it adviseable to diminish our scanty

pittance; indeed, it would have been scarcely possible to have done so,

with any regard to our necessities, as our thirst had become now

incessantly more intolerable than hunger, and the quantity then allowed

was barely sufficient to keep the mouth in a state of moisture, for

about one-third of the time. “Patience and long-suffering” was the

constant language of our lips: and a determination, strong as the

resolves of the soul could make it, to cling to existence as long as

hope and breath remained to us. In vain was every expedient tried to

relieve the raging fever of the throat by drinking salt water, and

holding small quantities of it in the mouth, until, by that means, the

thirst was increased to such a degree, as even to drive us to

despairing, and vain relief from our own urine. Our sufferings during

these calm days almost exceeded human belief. The hot rays of the sun

beat down upon us to such a degree, as to oblige us to hang over the

gunwale of the boat, into the sea, to cool our weak and fainting bodies.

This expedient afforded us, however, a grateful relief, and was

productive of a discovery of infinite importance to us. No sooner had

one of us got on the outside of the gunwale than he immediately observed

the bottom of the boat to be covered with a species of small clam,

which, upon being tasted, proved a most delicious and agreeable food.

This was no sooner announced to us, than we commenced to tear them off

and eat them, for a few minutes, like a set of gluttons; and, after

having satisfied the immediate craving of the stomach, we gathered large

quantities and laid them up in the boat; but hunger came upon us again

in less than half an hour afterwards, within which time they had all

disappeared. Upon attempting to get in again, we found ourselves so weak

as to require each other’s assistance; indeed, had it not been for three

of our crew, who could not swim, and who did not, therefore, get

overboard, I know not by what means we should have been able to have

resumed our situations in the boat.

On the fifteenth our boat continued to take in water so fast from her

leaks, and the weather proving so moderate, we concluded to search out

the bad places, and endeavour to mend them as well as we should be able.

After a considerable search, and, removing the ceiling near the bows, we

found the principal opening was occasioned by the starting of a plank or

streak in the bottom of the boat, next to the keel. To remedy this, it

was now absolutely necessary to have access to the bottom. The means of

doing which did not immediately occur to our minds. After a moment’s

reflection, however, one of the crew, Benjamin Lawrence, offered to tie

a rope around his body, take a boat’s hatchet in his hand, and thus go

under the water, and hold the hatchet against a nail, to be driven

through from the inside, for the purpose of clenching it. This was,

accordingly, all effected, with some little trouble, and answered the

purpose much beyond our expectations. Our latitude was this day 21° 42′

South. The oppression of the weather still continuing through the

sixteenth, bore upon our health and spirits with an amazing force and

severity. The most disagreeable excitements were produced by it, which,

added to the disconsolate endurance of the calm, called loudly for some

mitigating expedient,—some sort of relief to our prolonged sufferings.

By our observations to-day we found, in addition to our other

calamities, that we had been urged back from our progress, by the heave

of the sea, a distance of ten miles; and were still without any prospect

of wind. In this distressing posture of our affairs, the captain

proposed that we should commence rowing, which, being seconded by all,

we immediately concluded to take a double allowance of provision and

water for the day, and row, during the cool of the nights, until we

should get a breeze from some quarter or other. Accordingly, when night

came, we commenced our laborious operations: we made but a very sorry

progress. Hunger and thirst, and long inactivity, had so weakened us,

that in three hours every man gave out, and we abandoned the further

prosecution of the plan. With the sunrise the next morning, on the

seventeenth, a light breeze sprung up from the SE. and, although

directly ahead, it was welcomed with almost frenzied feelings of

gratitude and joy.

December 18th. The wind had increased this day considerably, and by

twelve o’clock blew a gale; veering from SE. to E.SE. Again we were

compelled to take in all sail, and lie to for the principal part of the

day. At night, however, it died away, and the next day, the nineteenth,

proved very moderate and pleasant weather, and we again commenced to

make a little progress.

December 20th. This was a day of great happiness and joy. After having

experienced one of the most distressing nights in the whole catalogue of

our sufferings, we awoke to a morning of comparative luxury and

pleasure. About 7 o’clock, while we were sitting dispirited, silent, and

dejected, in our boats, one of our companions suddenly and loudly called

out, “there is land!” We were all aroused in an instant, as if

electrified, and casting our eyes to leeward, there indeed, was the

blessed vision before us, “as plain and palpable” as could be wished

for. A new and extraordinary impulse now took possession of us. We shook

off the lethargy of our senses, and seemed to take another, and a fresh

existence. One or two of my companions, whose lagging spirits, and worn

out frames had begun to inspire them with an utter indifference to their

fate, now immediately brightened up, and manifested a surprising

alacrity and earnestness to gain, without delay, the much wished for

shore. It appeared at first a low, white, beach, and lay like a basking

paradise before our longing eyes. It was discovered nearly at the same

time by the other boats, and a general burst of joy and congratulation

now passed between us. It is not within the scope of human calculation,

by a mere listener to the story, to divine what the feelings of our

hearts were on this occasion. Alternate expectation, fear, gratitude,

surprise, and exultation, each swayed our minds, and quickened our

exertions. We ran down for it, and at 11 o’clock, A. M. we were within a

quarter of a mile of the shore. It was an island, to all appearance, as

nearly as we could determine it, about six miles long, and three broad;

with a very high, rugged shore, and surrounded by rocks; the sides of

the mountains were bare, but on the tops it looked fresh and green with

vegetation. Upon examining our navigators, we found it was Ducies

Island, lying in latitude 24° 40′ S. longitude 124° 40′ W. A short

moment sufficed for reflection, and we made immediate arrangements to

land. None of us knew whether the island was inhabited or not, nor what

it afforded, if any thing; if inhabited, it was uncertain whether by

beasts or savages; and a momentary suspense was created, by the dangers

which might possibly arise by proceeding without due preparation and

care. Hunger and thirst, however, soon determined us, and having taken

the musket and pistols, I, with three others, effected a landing upon

some sunken rocks, and waded thence to the shore. Upon arriving at the

beach, it was necessary to take a little breath, and we laid down for a

few minutes to rest our weak bodies, before we could proceed. Let the

reader judge, if he can, what must have been our feelings now! Bereft of

all comfortable hopes of life, for the space of thirty days of terrible

suffering; our bodies wasted to mere skeletons, by hunger and thirst,

and death itself staring us in the face; to be suddenly and unexpectedly

conducted to a rich banquet of food and drink, which subsequently we

enjoyed for a few days, to our full satisfaction; and he will have but a

faint idea of the happiness that here fell to our lot. We now, after a

few minutes, separated, and went different directions in search of

water; the want of which had been our principal privation, and called

for immediate relief. I had not proceeded far in my excursion, before I

discovered a fish, about a foot and a half in length, swimming along in

the water close to the shore. I commenced an attack upon him with the

breach of my gun, and struck him, I believe, once, and he ran under a

small rock, that lay near the shore, from whence I took him with the aid

of my ramrod, and brought him up on the beach, and immediately fell to

eating. My companions soon joined in the repast; and in less than ten

minutes, the whole was consumed, bones, and skin, and scales, and all.

With full stomachs, we imagined we could now attempt the mountains,

where, if in any part of the island, we considered water would be most

probably obtained. I accordingly clambered, with excessive labour,

suffering, and pain, up amongst the bushes, roots, and underwood, of one

of the crags, looking in all directions in vain, for every appearance of

water that might present itself. There was no indication of the least

moisture to be found, within the distance to which I had ascended,

although my strength did not enable me to get higher than about 20 feet.

I was sitting down at the height that I had attained, to gather a little

breath, and ruminating upon the fruitlessness of my search, and the

consequent evils and continuation of suffering that it necessarily

implied, when I perceived that the tide had risen considerably since our

landing, and threatened to cut off our retreat to the rocks, by which

alone we should be able to regain our boats. I therefore determined to

proceed again to the shore, and inform the captain and the rest of our

want of success in procuring water, and consult upon the propriety of

remaining at the island any longer. I never for one moment lost sight of

the main chance, which I conceived we still had, of either getting to

the coast, or of meeting with some vessel at sea; and felt that every

minute’s detention, without some equivalent object, was lessening those

chances, by a consumption of the means of our support. When I had got

down, one of my companions informed me, that he had found a place in a

rock some distance off, from which the water exuded in small drops, at

intervals of about five minutes; that he had, by applying his lips to

the rock, obtained a few of them, which only served to whet his

appetite, and from which nothing like the least satisfaction had

proceeded. I immediately resolved in my own mind, upon this information,

to advise remaining until morning, to endeavour to make a more thorough

search the next day, and with our hatchets to pick away the rock which

had been discovered, with the view of increasing, if possible, the run

of the water. We all repaired again to our boats, and there found that

the captain had the same impressions as to the propriety of our delay

until morning. We therefore landed; and having hauled our boats up on

the beach, laid down in them that night, free from all the anxieties of

watching and labour, and amid all our sufferings, gave ourselves up to

an unreserved forgetfulness and peace of mind, that seemed so well to

accord with the pleasing anticipations that this day had brought forth.

It was but a short space, however, until the morning broke upon us; and

sense, and feeling, and gnawing hunger, and the raging fever of thirst

then redoubled my wishes and efforts to explore the island again. We had

obtained, that night, a few crabs, by traversing the shore a

considerable distance, and a few very small fish; but waited until the

next day, for the labours of which, we considered a night of refreshing

and undisturbed repose would better qualify us.

December 21st. We had still reserved our common allowance, but it was

entirely inadequate for the purpose of supplying the raging demands of

the palate; and such an excessive and cruel thirst was created, as

almost to deprive us of the power of speech. The lips became cracked and

swollen, and a sort of glutinous saliva collected in the mouth,

disagreeable to the taste, and intolerable beyond expression. Our bodies

had wasted away to almost skin and bone, and possessed so little

strength, as often to require each other’s assistance in performing some

of its weakest functions. Relief, we now felt, must come soon, or nature

would sink. The most perfect discipline was still maintained, in respect

to our provisions; and it now became our whole object, if we should not

be able to replenish our subsistence from the island, to obtain, by some

means or other, a sufficient refreshment to enable us to prosecute our

voyage.

Our search for water accordingly again commenced with the morning; each

of us took a different direction, and prosecuted the examination of

every place where there was the least indication of it; the small leaves

of the shrubbery, affording a temporary alleviation, by being chewed in

the mouth, and but for the peculiarly bitter taste which those of the

island possessed, would have been an extremely grateful substitute. In

the course of our rambles too, along the sides of the mountain, we would

now and then meet with tropic birds, of a beautiful figure and plumage,

occupying small holes in the sides of it, from which we plucked them

without the least difficulty. Upon our approaching them they made no

attempts to fly, nor did they appear to notice us at all. These birds

served us for a fine repast; numbers of which were caught in the course

of the day, cooked by fires which we made on the shore, and eaten with

the utmost avidity. We found also a plant, in taste not unlike the

peppergrass, growing in considerable abundance in the crevices of the

rocks, and which proved to us a very agreeable food, by being chewed

with the meat of the birds. These, with birds’ nests, some of them full

of young, and others of eggs, a few of which we found in the course of

the day, served us for food, and supplied the place of our bread; from

the use of which, during our stay here, we had restricted ourselves. But

water, the great object of all our anxieties and exertions, was no where

to be found, and we began to despair of meeting with it on the island.

Our state of extreme weakness, and many of us without shoes or any

covering for the feet, prevented us from exploring any great distance;

lest by some sudden faintness, or over exertion, we should not be able

to return, and at night be exposed to attacks of wild beasts, which

might inhabit the island, and be alike incapable of resistance, as

beyond the reach of the feeble assistance that otherwise could be

afforded to each. The whole day was thus consumed in picking up whatever

had the least shape or quality of sustenance, and another night of

misery was before us, to be passed without a drop of water to cool our

parching tongues. In this state of affairs, we could not reconcile it to

ourselves to remain longer at this place; a day, an hour, lost to us

unnecessarily here, might cost us our preservation. A drop of the water

that we then had in our possession might prove, in the last stages of

our debility, the very cordial of life. I addressed the substance of

these few reflections to the captain, who agreed with me in opinion,

upon the necessity of taking some decisive steps in our present dilemma.

After some considerable conversation on this subject, it was finally

concluded, to spend the succeeding day in the further search for water,

and if none should be found, to quit the island the morning after.

December 22d. We had been employed during the last night in various

occupations, according to the feelings or the wants of the men; some

continued to wander about the shore, and to short distances in the

mountains, still seeking for food and water; others hung about the

beach, near the edge of the sea, endeavouring to take the little fish

that came about them. Some slept, insensible to every feeling but rest;

while others spent the night in talking of their situation, and

reasoning upon the probabilities of their deliverance. The dawn of day

aroused us again to labour, and each of us pursued his own inclination,

as to the course taken over the island after water. My principal hope

was founded upon my success in picking the rocks where the moisture had

been discovered the day before, and thither I hastened as soon as my

strength would enable me to get there. It was about a quarter of a mile

from what I may call our encampment; and with two men, who had

accompanied me, I commenced my labours with a hatchet and an old chisel.

The rock proved to be very soft, and in a very short time I had obtained

a considerable hole, but, alas! without the least wished-for effect. I

watched it for some little time with great anxiety, hoping that, as I

increased the depth of the hole, the water would presently flow; but all

my hopes and efforts were unavailing, and at last I desisted from

further labour, and sat down near it in utter despair. As I turned my

eyes towards the beach I saw some of the men in the act of carrying a

keg along from the boats, with, I thought, an extraordinary spirit and

activity; and the idea suddenly darted across my mind that they had

found water, and were taking a keg to fill it. I quitted my seat in a

moment, made the best of my way towards them, with a palpitating heart,

and before I came up with them, they gave me the cheering news that they

had found a spring of water. I felt, at that moment, as if I could have

fallen down and thanked God for this signal act of his mercy. The

sensation that I experienced was indeed strange, and such as I shall

never forget. At one instant I felt an almost choking excess of joy, and

at the next I wanted the relief of a flood of tears. When I arrived at

the spot, whither I had hastened as fast as my weak legs would carry me,

I found my companions had all taken their fill, and with an extreme

degree of forbearance I then satisfied myself, by drinking in small

quantities, and at intervals of two or three minutes apart. Many had,

notwithstanding the remonstrances of prudence, and, in some cases,

force, laid down and thoughtlessly swallowed large quantities of it,

until they could drink no more. The effect of this was, however, neither

so sudden nor bad as we had imagined; it only served to make them a

little stupid and indolent for the remainder of the day.

Upon examining the place from whence we had obtained this miraculous and

unexpected succour, we were equally astonished and delighted with the

discovery. It was on the shore, above which the sea flowed to the depth

of near six feet; and we could procure the water, therefore, from it

only when the tide was down. The crevice from which it rose was in a

flat rock, large surfaces of which were spread around, and composed the

face of the beach. We filled our two kegs before the tide rose, and went

back again to our boats. The remainder of this day was spent in seeking

for fish, crabs, birds, and any thing else that fell in our way, that

could contribute to satisfy our appetites; and we enjoyed, during that

night, a most comfortable and delicious sleep, unattended with those

violent cravings of hunger and thirst, that had poisoned our slumbers

for so many previous ones. Since the discovery of the water, too, we

began to entertain different notions altogether of our situation. There

was no doubt we might here depend upon a constant and ample supply of it

as long as we chose to remain, and, in all probability, we could manage

to obtain food, until the island should be visited by some vessel, or

time allowed to devise other means of leaving it. Our boats would still

remain to us: a stay here might enable us to mend, strengthen, and put

them in more perfect order for the sea, and get ourselves so far

recruited as to be able to endure, if necessary, a more protracted

voyage to the main land. I made a silent determination in my own mind

that I would myself pursue something like this plan, whatever might be

the opinion of the rest; but I found no difference in the views of any

of us as to this matter. We, therefore, concluded to remain at least

four or five days, within which time it could be sufficiently known

whether it would be adviseable to make any arrangements for a more

permanent abode.

December 23d. At 11 o’clock, A. M. we again visited our spring: the tide

had fallen to about a foot below it, and we were able to procure, before

it rose again, about twenty gallons of water. It was at first a little

brackish, but soon became fresh, from the constant supply from the rock,

and the departure of the sea. Our observations this morning tended to

give us every confidence in its quantity and quality, and we, therefore,

rested perfectly easy in our minds on the subject, and commenced to make

further discoveries about the island. Each man sought for his own daily

living, on whatsoever the mountains, the shore, or the sea, could

furnish him with; and every day, during our stay there, the whole time

was employed in roving about for food. We found, however, on the

twenty-fourth, that we had picked up, on the island, every thing that

could be got at, in the way of sustenance; and, much to our surprise,

some of the men came in at night and complained of not having gotten

sufficient during the day to satisfy the cravings of their stomachs.

Every accessible part of the mountain, contiguous to us, or within the

reach of our weak enterprise, was already ransacked, for birds’ eggs and

grass, and was rifled of all that they contained: so that we began to

entertain serious apprehensions that we should not be able to live long

here; at any rate, with the view of being prepared, as well as possible,

should necessity at any time oblige us to quit it, we commenced, on the

twenty-fourth, to repair our boats, and continued to work upon them all

that and the succeeding day. We were enabled to do this, with much

facility, by drawing them up and turning them over on the beach, working

by spells of two or three hours at a time, and then leaving off to seek

for food. We procured our water daily, when the tide would leave the

shore: but on the evening of the twenty-fifth, found that a fruitless

search for nourishment had not repaid us for the labours of a whole day.

There was no one thing on the island upon which we could in the least

degree rely, except the peppergrass, and of that the supply was

precarious, and not much relished without some other food. Our situation

here, therefore, now became worse than it would have been in our boats

on the ocean; because, in the latter case, we should be still making

some progress towards the land, while our provisions lasted, and the

chance of falling in with some vessel be considerably increased. It was

certain that we ought not to remain here unless upon the strongest

assurances in our own minds, of sufficient sustenance, and that, too, in

regular supplies, that might be depended upon. After much conversation

amongst us on this subject, and again examining our navigators, it was

finally concluded to set sail for Easter Island, which we found to be

E.SE. from us in latitude 27° 9′ S. longitude 109° 35′ W. All we knew of

this island was, that it existed as laid down in the books; but of its

extent, productions, or inhabitants, if any, we were entirely ignorant;

at any rate, it was nearer by eight hundred and fifty miles to the

coast, and could not be worse in its productions than the one we were

about leaving.

The twenty-sixth of December was wholly employed in preparations for our

departure; our boats were hauled down to the vicinity of the spring, and

our casks, and every thing else that would contain it, filled with

water.

There had been considerable talk between three of our companions, about

their remaining on this island, and taking their chance both for a

living, and an escape from it; and as the time drew near at which we

were to leave, they made up their minds to stay behind. The rest of us

could make no objection to their plan, as it lessened the load of our

boats, allowed us their share of the provisions, and the probability of

their being able to sustain themselves on the island was much stronger

than that of our reaching the main land. Should we, however, ever arrive

safely, it would become our duty, and we so assured them, to give

information of their situation, and make every effort to procure their

removal from thence; which we accordingly afterwards did.

Their names were William Wright of Barnstable, Massachusetts, Thomas

Chapple of Plymouth, England, and Seth Weeks of the former place. They

had begun, before we came away, to construct a sort of habitation,

composed of the branches of trees, and we left with them every little

article that could be spared from the boats. It was their intention to

build a considerable dwelling, that would protect them from the rains,

as soon as time and materials could be provided. The captain wrote

letters, to be left on the island, giving information of the fate of the

ship, and that of our own; and stating that we had set out to reach

Easter Island, with further particulars, intended to give notice (should

our fellow-sufferers die there, and the place be ever visited by any

vessel,) of our misfortunes. These letters were put in a tin case,

enclosed in a small wooden box, and nailed to a tree, on the west side

of the island, near our landing place. We had observed, some days

previously, the name of a ship, “The Elizabeth,” cut out in the bark of

this tree, which rendered it indubitable that one of that name had once

touched here. There was, however, no date to it, or any thing else, by

which any further particulars could be made out.

December 27th. I went, before we set sail this morning, and procured for

each boat a flat stone, and two arms-full of wood, with which to make a

fire in our boats, should it become afterwards necessary in the further

prosecution of our voyage; as we calculated we might catch a fish, or a

bird, and in that case be provided with the means of cooking it;

otherwise, from the intense heat of the weather, we knew they could not

be preserved from spoiling. At ten o’clock, A. M. the tide having risen

far enough to allow our boats to float over the rocks, we made all sail,

and steered around the island, for the purpose of making a little

further observation, which would not detain us any time, and might be

productive of some unexpected good fortune. Before we started we missed

our three companions, and found they had not come down, either to assist

us to get off, nor to take any kind of leave of us. I walked up the

beach towards their rude dwelling, and informed them that we were then

about to set sail, and should probably never see them more. They seemed

to be very much affected, and one of them shed tears. They wished us to

write to their relations, should Providence safely direct us again to

our homes, and said but little else. They had every confidence in being

able to procure a subsistence there as long as they remained: and,

finding them ill at heart about taking any leave of us, I hastily bid

them “good-bye,” hoped they would do well, and came away. They followed

me with their eyes until I was out of sight, and I never saw more of

them.

On the NW. side of the island we perceived a fine white beach, on which

we imagined we might land, and in a short time ascertain if any further

useful discoveries could be effected, or any addition made to our stock

of provisions; and having set ashore five or six of the men for this

purpose, the rest of us shoved off the boats and commenced fishing. We

saw a number of sharks, but all efforts to take them proved ineffectual;

and we got but a few small fish, about the size of a mackerel, which we

divided amongst us. In this business we were occupied for the remainder

of the day, until six o’clock in the afternoon, when the men, having

returned to the shore from their search in the mountains, brought a few

birds, and we again set sail and steered directly for Easter Island.

During that night, after we had got quite clear of the land, we had a

fine strong breeze from the NW.; we kept our fires going, and cooked our

fish and birds, and felt our situation as comfortable as could be

expected. We continued on our course, consuming our provisions and water

as sparingly as possible, without any material incident, until the

thirtieth, when the wind hauled out E.SE. directly ahead, and so

continued until the thirty-first, when it again came to the northward;

and we resumed our course.

On the third of January we experienced heavy squalls from the W.SW.

accompanied with dreadful thunder and lightning, that threw a gloomy and

cheerless aspect over the ocean, and incited a recurrence of some of

those heavy and desponding moments that we had before experienced. We

commenced from Ducies Island to keep a regular reckoning, by which, on

the fourth of January, we found we had got to the southward of Easter

Island, and the wind prevailing E.NE. we should not be able to get on to

the eastward, so as to reach it. Our birds and fish were all now

consumed, and we had begun again upon our short allowance of bread. It

was necessary, in this state of things, to change our determination of

going to Easter Island, and shape our course in some other direction,

where the wind would allow of our going. We had but little hesitation in

concluding, therefore, to steer for the island of Juan Fernandez, which

lay about E.SE. from us, distant two thousand five hundred miles. We

bent our course accordingly towards it, having for the two succeeding

days very light winds, and suffering excessively from the intense heat

of the sun. The seventh brought us a change of wind to the northward,

and at twelve o’clock we found ourselves in latitude 30° 18′ S,

longitude 117° 29′ W. We continued to make what progress we could to the

eastward.

January 10th. Matthew P. Joy, the second mate, had suffered from

debility, and the privations we had experienced, much beyond any of the

rest of us, and was on the eighth removed to the captain’s boat, under

the impression that he would be more comfortable there, and more

attention and pains be bestowed in nursing and endeavouring to comfort

him. This day being calm, he manifested a desire to be taken back again;

but at 4 o’clock in the afternoon, after having been, according to his

wishes, placed in his own boat, he died very suddenly after his removal.

On the eleventh, at six o’clock in the morning, we sewed him up in his

clothes, tied a large stone to his feet, and, having brought all the

boats to, consigned him in a solemn manner to the ocean. This man did

not die of absolute starvation, although his end was no doubt very much

hastened by his sufferings. He had a weak and sickly constitution, and

complained of being unwell the whole voyage. It was an incident,

however, which threw a gloom over our feelings for many days. In

consequence of his death, one man from the captain’s boat was placed in

that from which he died, to supply his place, and we stood away again on

our course.

On the 12th of Jan. we had the wind from the NW. which commenced in the

morning, and came on to blow before night a perfect gale. We were

obliged to take in all sail and run before the wind. Flashes of

lightning were quick and vivid, and the rain came down in cataracts. As

however the gale blew us fairly on our course, and our speed being great

during the day, we derived, I may say, even pleasure from the

uncomfortableness and fury of the storm. We were apprehensive that in

the darkness of this night we should be separated, and made

arrangements, each boat to keep an E.SE. course all night. About eleven

o’clock my boat being ahead a short distance of the others, I turned my

head back, as I was in the habit of doing every minute, and neither of

the others were to be seen. It was blowing and raining at this time as

if the heavens were separating, and I knew not hardly at the moment what

to do. I hove my boat to the wind, and lay drifting about an hour,

expecting every moment that they would come up with me, but not seeing

any thing of them, I put away again, and stood on the course agreed

upon, with strong hopes that daylight would enable me to discover them

again. When the morning dawned, in vain did we look over every part of

the ocean for our companions; they were gone! and we saw no more of them

afterwards. It was folly to repine at the circumstance; it could neither

be remedied, nor could sorrow secure their return; but it was impossible

to prevent ourselves feeling all the poignancy and bitterness that

characterizes the separation of men who have long suffered in each

other’s company, and whose interests and feelings fate had so closely

linked together. By our observation, we separated in lat. 32° 16′ S.

long. 112° 20′ W. For many days after this accident, our progress was

attended with dull and melancholy reflections. We had lost the cheering

of each other’s faces, that, which strange as it is, we so much required

in both our mental and bodily distresses. The 14th January proved

another very squally and rainy day. We had now been nineteen days from

the island, and had only made a distance about 900 miles: necessity

began to whisper us, that a still further reduction of our allowance

must take place, or we must abandon altogether the hopes of reaching the

land, and rely wholly on the chance of being taken up by a vessel. But

how to reduce the daily quantity of food, with any regard to life

itself, was a question of the utmost consequence. Upon our first leaving

the wreck, the demands of the stomach had been circumscribed to the

smallest possible compass; and subsequently before reaching the island,

a diminution had taken place of nearly one-half; and it was now, from a

reasonable calculation, become necessary even to curtail that at least

one-half; which must, in a short time, reduce us to mere skeletons

again. We had a full allowance of water, but it only served to

contribute to our debility; our bodies deriving but the scanty support

which an ounce and a half of bread for each man afforded. It required a

great effort to bring matters to this dreadful alternative, either to

feed our bodies and our hopes a little longer, or in the agonies of

hunger to seize upon and devour our provisions, and coolly await the

approach of death.

We were as yet, just able to move about in our boats, and slowly perform

the necessary labours appertaining to her; but we were fast wasting away

with the relaxing effects of the water, and we daily almost perished

under the torrid rays of a meridian sun; to escape which, we would lie

down in the bottom of the boat, cover ourselves over with the sails, and

abandon her to the mercy of the waves. Upon attempting to rise again,

the blood would rush into the head, and an intoxicating blindness come

over us, almost to occasion our suddenly falling down again. A slight

interest was still kept up in our minds by the distant hopes of yet

meeting with the other boats, but it was never realized. An accident

occurred at night, which gave me a great cause of uneasiness, and led me

to an unpleasant rumination upon the probable consequences of a

repetition of it. I had laid down in the boat without taking the usual

precaution of securing the lid of the provision-chest as I was

accustomed to do, when one of the white men awoke me, and informed me

that one of the blacks had taken some bread from it. I felt at the

moment the highest indignation and resentment at such conduct in any of

our crew, and immediately took my pistol in my hand, and charged him if

he had taken any, to give it up without the least hesitation, or I

should instantly shoot him!—He became at once very much alarmed, and,

trembling, confessed the fact, pleading the hard necessity that urged

him to it: he appeared to be very penitent for his crime, and earnestly

swore that he would never be guilty of it again. I could not find it in

my soul to extend towards him the least severity on this account,

however much, according to the strict imposition which we felt upon

ourselves it might demand it. This was the first infraction; and the

security of our lives, our hopes of redemption from our sufferings,

loudly called for a prompt and signal punishment; but every humane

feeling of nature plead in his behalf, and he was permitted to escape,

with the solemn injunction, that a repetition of the same offence would

cost him his life.

I had almost determined upon this occurrence to divide our provisions,

and give to each man his share of the whole stock; and should have done

so in the height of my resentment, had it not been for the reflection

that some might, by imprudence, be tempted to go beyond the daily

allowance or consume it all at once, and bring on a premature weakness

or starvation: this would of course disable them for the duties of the

boat, and reduce our chances of safety and deliverance.

On the 15th of January, at night, a very large shark was observed

swimming about us in a most ravenous manner, making attempts every now

and then upon different parts of the boat, as if he would devour the

very wood with hunger; he came several times and snapped at the steering

oar, and even the stern-post. We tried in vain to stab him with a lance,

but we were so weak as not to be able to make any impression upon his

hard skin; he was so much larger than an ordinary one, and manifested

such a fearless malignity, as to make us afraid of him; and our utmost

efforts, which were at first directed to kill him for prey, became in

the end self-defense. Baffled however in all his hungry attempts upon

us, he shortly made off.

On the 16th of January, we were surrounded with porpoises in great

numbers, that followed us nearly an hour, and which also defied all

manœuvres to catch them. The 17th and 18th proved to be calm; and the

distresses of a cheerless prospect and a burning hot sun, were again

visited upon our devoted heads.

We began to think that Divine Providence had abandoned us at last; and

it was but an unavailing effort to endeavour to prolong a now tedious

existence. Horrible were the feelings that took possession of us!—The

contemplation of a death of agony and torment, refined by the most

dreadful and distressing reflections, absolutely prostrated both body

and soul. There was not a hope now remaining to us but that which was

derived from a sense of the mercies of our Creator. The night of the

18th was a despairing era in our sufferings; our minds were wrought up

to the highest pitch of dread and apprehension for our fate, and all in

them was dark, gloomy, and confused. About 8 o’clock, the terrible noise

of whale-spouts near us sounded in our ears: we could distinctly hear

the furious thrashing of their tails in the water, and our weak minds

pictured out their appalling and hideous aspects. One of my companions,

the black man, took an immediate fright, and solicited me to take out

the oars, and endeavour to get away from them. I consented to his using

any means for that purpose; but alas! it was wholly out of our power to

raise a single arm in our own defence. Two or three of the whales came

down near us, and went swiftly off across our stern, blowing and

spouting at a terrible rate; they, however, after an hour or two

disappeared, and we saw no more of them. The next day, the 19th of

January, we had extremely boisterous weather, with rain, heavy thunder

and lightning, which reduced us again to the necessity of taking in all

sail and lying to. The wind blew from every point of the compass within

the twenty-four hours, and at last towards the next morning settled at

E.NE. a strong breeze.

January 20. The black man, Richard Peterson, manifested to-day symptoms

of a speedy dissolution; he had been lying between the seats in the

boat, utterly dispirited and broken down, without being able to do the

least duty, or hardly to place his hand to his head for the last three

days, and had this morning made up his mind to die rather than endure

further misery: he refused his allowance; said he was sensible of his

approaching end, and was perfectly ready to die: in a few minutes he

became speechless, the breath appeared to be leaving his body without

producing the least pain, and at four o’clock he was gone. I had two

days previously, conversations with him on the subject of religion, on

which he reasoned very sensibly, and with much composure; and begged me

to let his wife know his fate, if ever I reached home in safety. The

next morning we committed him to the sea, in latitude 35° 07′ S.

longitude 105° 46′ W. The wind prevailed to the eastward until the 24th

of January, when it again fell calm. We were now in a most wretched and

sinking state of debility, hardly able to crawl around the boat, and

possessing but strength enough to convey our scanty morsel to our

mouths. When I perceived this morning that it was calm, my fortitude

almost forsook me. I thought to suffer another scorching day, like the

last we had experienced, would close before night the scene of our

miseries; and I felt many a despairing moment that day, that had well

nigh proved fatal. It required an effort to look calmly forward, and

contemplate what was yet in store for us, beyond what I felt I was

capable of making; and what it was that buoyed me above all the terrors

which surrounded us, God alone knows. Our ounce and a half of bread,

which was to serve us all day, was in some cases greedily devoured, as

if life was to continue but another moment; and at other times, it was

hoarded up and eaten crumb by crumb, at regular intervals during the

day, as if it was to last us for ever. To add to our calamities, biles

began to break out upon us, and our imaginations shortly became as

diseased as our bodies. I laid down at night to catch a few moments of

oblivious sleep, and immediately my starving fancy was at work. I dreamt

of being placed near a splendid and rich repast, where there was every

thing that the most dainty appetite could desire; and of contemplating

the moment in which we were to commence to eat with enraptured feelings

of delight; and just as I was about to partake of it, I suddenly awoke

to the cold realities of my miserable situation. Nothing could have

oppressed me so much. It set such a longing frenzy for victuals in my

mind, that I felt as if I could have wished the dream to continue for

ever, that I never might have awoke from it. I cast a sort of vacant

stare about the boat, until my eyes rested upon a bit of tough cow-hide,

which was fastened to one of the oars; I eagerly seized and commenced to

chew it, but there was no substance in it, and it only served to fatigue

my weak jaws, and add to my bodily pains. My fellow-sufferers murmured

very much the whole time, and continued to press me continually with

questions upon the probability of our reaching land again. I kept

constantly rallying my spirits to enable me to afford them comfort. I

encouraged them to bear up against all evils, and if we must perish, to

die in our own cause, and not weakly distrust the providence of the

Almighty, by giving ourselves up to despair. I reasoned with them, and

told them that we would not die sooner by keeping up our hopes; that the

dreadful sacrifices and privations we endured were to preserve us from

death, and were not to be put in competition with the price which we set

upon our lives, and their value to our families: it was, besides,

unmanly to repine at what neither admitted of alleviation nor cure; and

withal, that it was our solemn duty to recognise in our calamities an

overruling divinity, by whose mercy we might be suddenly snatched from

peril, and to rely upon him alone, “Who tempers the wind to the shorn

lamb.”

The three following days, the 25th, 26th, and 27th, were not

distinguished by any particular circumstances. The wind still prevailed

to the eastward, and by its obduracy, almost tore the very hopes of our

hearts away: it was impossible to silence the rebellious repinings of

our nature, at witnessing such a succession of hard fortune against us.

It was our cruel lot not to have had one bright anticipation

realized—not one wish of our thirsting souls gratified. We had, at the

end of these three days, been urged to the southward as far as latitude

36° into a chilly region, where rains and squalls prevailed; and we now

calculated to tack and stand back to the northward: after much labour,

we got our boat about; and so great was the fatigue attending this small

exertion of our bodies, that we all gave up for a moment and abandoned

her to her own course.—Not one of us had now strength sufficient to

steer, or indeed to make one single effort towards getting the sails

properly trimmed, to enable us to make any headway. After an hour or two

of relaxation, during which the horrors of our situation came upon us

with a despairing force and effect, we made a sudden effort and got our

sails into such a disposition, as that the boat would steer herself; and

we then threw ourselves down, awaiting the issue of time to bring us

relief, or to take us from the scene of our troubles. We could now do

nothing more; strength and spirits were totally gone; and what indeed

could have been the narrow hopes, that in our situation, then bound us

to life?

January 28. Our spirits this morning were hardly sufficient to allow of

our enjoying a change of the wind, which took place to the westward.—It

had nearly become indifferent to us from what quarter it blew: nothing

but the slight chance of meeting with a vessel remained to us now: it

was this narrow comfort alone, that prevented me from lying down at once

to die. But fourteen days’ stinted allowance of provisions remained, and

it was absolutely necessary to increase the quantity to enable us to

live five days longer; we therefore partook of it, as pinching necessity

demanded, and gave ourselves wholly up to the guidance and disposal of

our Creator.

The 29th and 30th of January, the wind continued west, and we made

considerable progress until the 31st, when it again came ahead, and

prostrated all our hopes. On the 1st of February, it changed again to

the westward, and on the 2d and 3d blew to the eastward; and we had it

light and variable until the 8th of February. Our sufferings were now

drawing to a close; a terrible death appeared shortly to await us;

hunger became violent and outrageous, and we prepared for a speedy

release from our troubles; our speech and reason were both considerably

impaired, and we were reduced to be at this time, certainly the most

helpless and wretched of the whole human race. Isaac Cole, one of our

crew, had the day before this, in a fit of despair, thrown himself down

in the boat, and was determined there calmly to wait for death. It was

obvious that he had no chance; all was dark he said in his mind, not a

single ray of hope was left for him to dwell upon; and it was folly and

madness to be struggling against what appeared so palpably to be our

fixed and settled destiny. I remonstrated with him as effectually as the

weakness both of my body and understanding would allow of; and what I

said appeared for a moment to have a considerable effect: he made a

powerful and sudden effort, half rose up, crawled forward and hoisted

the jib, and firmly and loudly cried that he would not give up; that he

would live as long as the rest of us—but alas! this effort was but the

hectic fever of the moment, and he shortly again relapsed into a state

of melancholy and despair. This day his reason was attacked, and he

became about 9 o’clock in the morning a most miserable spectacle of

madness: he spoke incoherently about every thing, calling loudly for a

napkin and water, and then lying stupidly and senselessly down in the

boat again, would close his hollow eyes, as if in death. About 10

o’clock, we suddenly perceived that he became speechless; we got him as

well as we were able upon a board, placed on one of the seats of the

boat, and covering him up with some old clothes, left him to his fate.

He lay in the greatest pain and apparent misery, groaning piteously

until four o’clock, when he died, in the most horrid and frightful

convulsions I ever witnessed. We kept his corpse all night, and in the

morning my two companions began as of course to make preparations to

dispose of it in the sea; when after reflecting on the subject all

night, I addressed them on the painful subject of keeping the body for

food!! Our provisions could not possibly last us beyond three days,

within which time, it was not in any degree probable that we should find

relief from our present sufferings, and that hunger would at last drive

us to the necessity of casting lots. It was without any objection agreed

to, and we set to work as fast as we were able to prepare it so as to

prevent its spoiling. We separated his limbs from his body, and cut all

the flesh from the bones; after which, we opened the body, took out the

heart, and then closed it again—sewed it up as decently as we could, and

committed it to the sea. We now first commenced to satisfy the immediate

cravings of nature from the heart, which we eagerly devoured, and then

eat sparingly of a few pieces of the flesh; after which, we hung up the

remainder, cut in thin strips about the boat, to dry in the sun: we made

a fire and roasted some of it, to serve us during the next day. In this

manner did we dispose of our fellow-sufferer; the painful recollection

of which, brings to mind at this moment, some of the most disagreeable

and revolting ideas that it is capable of conceiving. We knew not then,

to whose lot it would fall next, either to die or be shot, and eaten

like the poor wretch we had just dispatched. Humanity must shudder at

the dreadful recital. I have no language to paint the anguish of our

souls in this dreadful dilemma. The next morning, the 10th of February,

we found that the flesh had become tainted, and had turned of a greenish

colour, upon which we concluded to make a fire and cook it at once, to

prevent its becoming so putrid as not to be eaten at all: we accordingly

did so, and by that means preserved it for six or seven days longer; our

bread during the time, remained untouched; as that would not be liable

to spoil, we placed it carefully aside for the last moments of our

trial. About three o’clock this afternoon a strong breeze set in from

the NW. and we made very good progress, considering that we were

compelled to steer the boat by management of the sails alone: this wind

continued until the thirteenth, when it changed again ahead. We

contrived to keep soul and body together by sparingly partaking of our

flesh, cut up in small pieces and eaten with salt water. By the

fourteenth, our bodies became so far recruited, as to enable us to make

a few attempts at guiding our boat again with the oar; by each taking

his turn, we managed to effect it, and to make a tolerable good course.

On the fifteenth, our flesh was all consumed, and we were driven to the

last morsel of bread, consisting of two cakes; our limbs had for the

last two days swelled very much, and now began to pain us most

excessively. We were still, as near as we could judge, three hundred

miles from the land, and but three days of our allowance on hand. The

hope of a continuation of the wind, which came out at west this morning,

was the only comfort and solace that remained to us: so strong had our

desires at last reached in this respect, that a high fever had set in,

in our veins, and a longing that nothing but its continuation could

satisfy. Matters were now with us at their height; all hope was cast

upon the breeze; and we tremblingly and fearfully awaited its progress,

and the dreadful development of our destiny. On the sixteenth, at night,

full of the horrible reflections of our situation, and panting with

weakness, I laid down to sleep, almost indifferent whether I should ever

see the light again. I had not lain long, before I dreamt I saw a ship

at some distance off from us, and strained every nerve to get to her,

but could not. I awoke almost overpowered with the frenzy I had caught

in my slumbers, and stung with the cruelties of a diseased and

disappointed imagination. On the seventeenth, in the afternoon, a heavy

cloud appeared to be settling down in an E. by N. direction from us,

which in my view, indicated the vicinity of some land, which I took for

the island of Massafuera. I concluded it could be no other; and

immediately upon this reflection, the life blood began to flow again

briskly in my veins. I told my companions that I was well convinced it

was land, and if so, in all probability we should reach it before two

days more. My words appeared to comfort them much; and by repeated

assurances of the favourable appearance of things, their spirits

acquired even a degree of elasticity that was truly astonishing. The

dark features of our distress began now to diminish a little, and the

countenance, even amid the gloomy bodings of our hard lot, to assume a

much fresher hue. We directed our course for the cloud, and our progress

that night was extremely good. The next morning, before daylight, Thomas

Nicholson, a boy about seventeen years of age, one of my two companions

who had thus far survived with me, after having bailed the boat, laid

down, drew a piece of canvass over him, and cried out, that he then

wished to die immediately. I saw that he had given up, and I attempted

to speak a few words of comfort and encouragement to him, and

endeavoured to persuade him that it was a great weakness and even

wickedness to abandon a reliance upon the Almighty, while the least

hope, and a breath of life remained; but he felt unwilling to listen to

any of the consolatory suggestions which I made to him; and,

notwithstanding the extreme probability which I stated there was of our

gaining the land before the end of two days more, he insisted upon lying

down and giving himself up to despair. A fixed look of settled and

forsaken despondency came over his face: he lay for some time silent,

sullen, and sorrowful—and I felt at once satisfied, that the coldness of

death was fast gathering upon him: there was a sudden and unaccountable

earnestness in his manner, that alarmed me, and made me fear that I

myself might unexpectedly be overtaken by a like weakness, or dizziness

of nature, that would bereave me at once of both reason and life; but

Providence willed it otherwise.

At about seven o’clock this morning, while I was lying asleep, my

companion who was steering, suddenly and loudly called out “_There’s a

Sail!_” I know not what was the first movement I made upon hearing such

an unexpected cry: the earliest of my recollections are, that

immediately I stood up, gazing in a state of abstraction and ecstasy

upon the blessed vision of a vessel about seven miles off from us; she

was standing in the same direction with us, and the only sensation I

felt at the moment was, that of a violent and unaccountable impulse to

fly directly towards her. I do not believe it is possible to form a just

conception of the pure, strong feelings, and the unmingled emotions of

joy and gratitude, that took possession of my mind on this occasion: the

boy, too, took a sudden and animated start from his despondency, and

stood up to witness the probable instrument of his salvation. Our only

fear was now, that she would not discover us, or that we might not be

able to intercept her course: we, however, put our boat immediately, as

well as we were able, in a direction to cut her off; and found, to our

great joy, that we sailed faster than she did. Upon observing us, she

shortened sail, and allowed us to come up to her. The captain hailed us,

and asked who we were. I told him we were from a wreck, and he cried out

immediately for us to come alongside the ship. I made an effort to

assist myself along to the side, for the purpose of getting up, but

strength failed me altogether, and I found it impossible to move a step

further without help. We must have formed at that moment, in the eyes of

the captain and his crew, a most deplorable and affecting picture of

suffering and misery. Our cadaverous countenances, sunken eyes, and

bones just starting through the skin, with the ragged remnants of

clothes stuck about our sun-burnt bodies, must have produced an

appearance to him affecting and revolting in the highest degree. The

sailors commenced to remove us from our boat, and we were taken to the

cabin, and comfortably provided for in every respect. In a few minutes

we were permitted to taste of a little thin food, made from tapioca, and

in a few days, with prudent management, we were considerably recruited.

This vessel proved to be the brig Indian, captain William Crozier, of

London; to whom we are indebted for every polite, friendly, and

attentive disposition towards us, that can possibly characterize a man

of humanity and feeling. We were taken up in latitude 33° 45′ S.

longitude 81° 03′ W. At twelve o’clock this day we saw the island of

Massafuera, and on the 25th of February, we arrived at Valparaiso in

utter distress and poverty. Our wants were promptly relieved there.

The captain and the survivers of his boat’s crew, were taken up by the

American whale-ship, the Dauphin, Captain Zimri Coffin, of Nantucket,

and arrived at Valparaiso on the seventeenth of March following: he was

taken up in latitude 37° S. off the island of St. Mary. The third boat

got separated from him on the 28th of January, and has not been heard of

since. The names of all the survivers, are as follows:—Captain George

Pollard, junr., Charles Ramsdale, Owen Chase, Benjamin Lawrence, and

Thomas Nicholson, all of Nantucket. There died in the captain’s boat,

the following: Brazilla Ray of Nantucket, Owen Coffin of the same place,

who was shot, and Samuel Reed, a black.

The captain relates, that after being separated, as herein before

stated, they continued to make what progress they could towards the

island of Juan Fernandez, as was agreed upon; but contrary winds and the

extreme debility of the crew prevailed against their united exertions.

He was with us equally surprised and concerned at the separation that

took place between us; but continued on his course, almost confident of

meeting with us again. On the fourteenth, the whole stock of provisions

belonging to the second mate’s boat, was entirely exhausted, and on the

twenty-fifth, the black man, Lawson Thomas, died, and was eaten by his

surviving companions. On the twenty-first, the captain and his crew were

in the like dreadful situation with respect to their provisions; and on

the twenty-third, another coloured man, Charles Shorter, died out of the

same boat, and his body was shared for food between the crews of both

boats. On the twenty-seventh, another, Isaac Shepherd, (a black man,)

died in the third boat; and on the twenty-eighth, another black, named

Samuel Reed, died out of the captain’s boat. The bodies of these men

constituted their only food while it lasted; and on the twenty-ninth,

owing to the darkness of the night and want of sufficient power to

manage their boats, those of the captain and second mate separated in

latitude 35° S. longitude 100° W. On the 1st of February, having

consumed the last morsel, the captain and the three other men that

remained with him, were reduced to the necessity of casting lots. It

fell upon Owen Coffin to die, who with great fortitude and resignation

submitted to his fate. They drew lots to see who should shoot him: he

placed himself firmly to receive his death, and was immediately shot by

Charles Ramsdale, whose hard fortune it was to become his executioner.

On the 11th Brazilla Ray died; and on these two bodies the captain and

Charles Ramsdale, the only two that were then left, subsisted until the

morning of the twenty-third, when they fell in with the ship Dauphin, as

before stated, and were snatched from impending destruction. Every

assistance and attentive humanity, was bestowed upon them by Capt.

Coffin to whom Capt. Pollard acknowledged every grateful obligation.

Upon making known the fact, that three of our companions had been left

at Ducies Island, to the captain of the U. S. frigate Constellation,

which lay at Valparaiso when we arrived, he said he should immediately

take measures to have them taken off.

On the 11th of June following I arrived at Nantucket in the whale-ship

the Eagle, Capt. William H. Coffin. My family had received the most

distressing account of our shipwreck, and had given me up for lost. My

unexpected appearance was welcomed with the most grateful obligations

and acknowledgments to a beneficent Creator, who had guided me through

darkness, trouble, and death, once more to the bosom of my country and

friends.

SUPPLEMENT.

The following is a list of the whole crew of the ship, with their

arrangements into the three several boats upon starting from the

wreck: the names of those who died, were left on the island, or

shot—with those also who survived, and who were in the third or

second mate’s boat at the time of separation—and whose fate is yet

uncertain:—

Capt. James Pollard, jun. 1st boat survived

Obed Hendricks, do. put in 3d boat

Brazilla Ray, do. died

Owen Coffin, do. shot

Samuel Reed, (black) do. died

Charles Ramsdale, do. survived

Seth Weeks, do. left on the island

Owen Chase, 2d boat survived

Benjamin Lawrence, do. do.

Thomas Nicholson, do. do.

Isaac Cole, do. died

Richard Peterson, (black) do. do.

William Wright, do. left on the island

Matthew P. Joy, 3d boat died

Thomas Chapple, do. left on the island

Joseph West, do. missing

Lawson Thomas, (black) do. died

Charles Shorter, (black) do. do.

Isaiah Shepherd, (black) do. do.

William Bond, (black.) do. missing

FINIS.

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TRANSCRIBER’S NOTES

1. The errors on p. 12 have been corrected in the text.

2. Silently corrected typographical errors and variations in spelling.

3. Archaic, non-standard, and uncertain spellings retained as printed.

4. Enclosed italics font in _underscores_.