When he entered the boat he bid the sailors cast her adrift; it was very dark, and they had neither moon nor stars to direct them. “What a terrible situation!” he exclaims, “we were twenty-seven in the long-boat, and nine in the cutter, without victuals or drink.” Uncertain of their distance from the English coast, they agreed to keep as close as possible to the ship.
It began to blow very fresh, with sleet and snow; the people were fatigued to the uttermost, from working so long at the pumps, and after sitting in the wet and cold, they began to wish that they had staid in the ship and perished, as now they might die a lingering death. Either alternative was awful. Destitute of provision, it was most probable that one must be sacrificed by lot to keep the others alive; and their dismal situation, in arousing the most horrible anticipations, made them forbode the worst.
The boats now began to make water, yet the men refused to bail them, they were in a state of such extreme weariness, and not having slept for four nights, became regardless of their fate. Captain Nicholls, nevertheless, prevailed on them to free the long-boat of water.
Having a brisk gale, they soon ran a long way from their unfortunate ship, when to their great distress, it fell quite calm at ten in the morning. This threw the people in despair, their courage began to fail, and as they could not expect to live so long as to make the land, death seemed again staring them in the face.
Some time after this unlucky party forsook the ship, four of the French prisoners let a small jolly-boat, which was still remaining, overboard, with two small paddles, and swam to her; and just as they left the vessel, her decks blew up with a report like a gun. She sunk in the ocean, and three hundred and sixty souls perished with her.
Captain Nicholls, at length observing the water colored, asked whether they had any twine, on which one of them gave him a ball from his pocket; they knocked the bolts off the knees of the long-boat, wherewith to make a deep-sea lead, and sounding with it were rejoiced to find only 45 fathom water. But the people complaining greatly of hunger and thirst, Captain Nicholls said he was sorry to acquaint them that he had nothing for them to eat or drink, yet encouraged them to bear up with manly resolution, as by their soundings they were near Scilly, and he doubted not, if it cleared, that they should see the land.
The little Norse boy, who had always kept close by the captain, now said that he had got some bread, and on taking it from the bosom of his shirt, it proved to be like baker’s dough; however, it was bread, and very acceptable. The whole might amount to about four pounds; and Captain Nicholls having put it into his hat, distributed it equally, calling for those in the yawl to receive their share. But instead of being a relief, it increased their troubles, for being wet and clammy, it hung to the roof of their mouths, having nothing to wash it down. Mr. Fox had some allspice also, which was of little service; having been cut in pieces, the people forced it down their throats, which created some saliva, and by that means it was swallowed.
About noon, a light air sprung up at south-west. Each boat had a foremast, foresail and oars; but owing to the boats having been foul of the main-mast, all the oars were washed away except two from each. Captain Nicholls was told, in answer to his inquiries concerning a noise among the crew, that two seamen were disputing about a couple of blankets, which one of them had brought from the ship. These blankets he ordered to be thrown overboard, rather than they should be suffered to breed any quarrel, as in their unhappy condition it was no time to have disputes. But on reflection having desired that they should be brought to him, he thought of converting them to use, by forming each into a main-sail. Therefore, one oar was erected for a main-mast, and the other broke to the breadth of the blankets for a yard. The people in the cutter observing what was done in the long-boat, converted a hammock which they had on board into a main-sail.
At four in the afternoon it cleared up, when the adventurers descried a brig about two miles distant, to which Captain Nicholls ordered the cutter to give chase, as it being lighter than the long-boat, would sooner get up, and let her know their distress. But the brig, seeing the boats after their course, directly stood from them, owing, as Captain Nicholls supposed, to their odd appearance. For war then prevailing, they were probably taken for the French lugsail-boats, that used to frequent the lands off Scilly. The cutter, however, gained fast on the brig, when, having got about half way, a very thick fog came on, and neither the brig nor the cutter were again seen from the long-boat.
Night fell, and the weather still continuing very foggy, the people, almost dead for want of sleep, reposed themselves, sitting half way in water, it being impossible for so many to find seats. Their captain, anxious for their lives and his own, strove to keep his eyes open, though it was the fifth night that he had taken no rest. About eleven o’clock, when every one was asleep but the helmsman and himself, he thought that he saw land. Yet he was determined not to call out land until he should be sure that it was so. He squeezed his eyelids together to let the water run out of his eyes, as he found them very dim.