THE LOSS OF THE DRAKE
By Charlotte M. Yonge
The Newfoundland coast is a peculiarly dangerous one,
from the dense fogs that are caused by the warm
waters of the Gulf Stream. These waters rushing up from
the equator here come in contact with the cold currents from
the pole. As they meet, they send up such heavy vapor 5
that day can sometimes scarcely be discerned from night;
even at little more than arm's length objects cannot be distinguished,
while from without, the mist looks like a thick,
sheer precipice of snow.
In such a fearful fog, on the morning of the 20th of June, 10
1822, the small schooner Drake struck suddenly upon a
rock and almost immediately fell over on her side, the waves
breaking over her. Her commander, Captain Baker,
ordered her masts to be cut away, in hopes of lightening
her so that she might right herself, but in vain. One boat
was washed away, another upset as soon as she was
launched, and there remained only the small boat called
the captain's gig. 5
The ship was fast breaking up; the only hope was that
the crew might reach a small rock, the point of which could
be seen above the waves at a distance that the fog made
difficult to calculate, but that, it was hoped, might not be
too great. A man named Leonard seized a rope and sprang 10
into the sea, but the current was too strong for him; he
was carried away in an opposite direction and was obliged
to be dragged on board again.
Then the boatswain, whose name was Turner, volunteered
to make the attempt in the gig, taking a rope fastened 15
round his body. The crew cheered him after the
gallant fashion of British seamen, though they were all
hanging on by the ropes to the ship, with the sea breaking
over them and threatening every moment to dash the vessel
to pieces. Anxiously they watched Turner in his boat, as 20
he made his way to within a few feet of the rock. There
the boat was lifted high and higher by a huge wave, then
hurled down on the rock and shattered to pieces; but the
brave boatswain was safe, and contrived to keep his hold
of the rope and to scramble up on the stone. 25
Another great wave, almost immediately after, heaved
up the remains of the ship and dashed her down close to
this rock of safety. Captain Baker, giving up the hope of
saving her, commanded the crew to leave her and make
their way to the rock. For the first time he met with 30
disobedience. With one voice they refused to leave the
wreck unless they saw him before them in safety. Calmly
he renewed his orders, saying that his life was the last and
least consideration, and they were obliged to obey, leaving
the ship in as orderly a manner as if they were going ashore
in harbor. But they were so benumbed with cold that
many were unable to climb the rock and were swept off by 5
the waves; among these was the lieutenant.
Captain Baker last of all joined his crew. It was then
discovered that they were at no great distance from the
land, but that the tide was rising and that the rock on which
they stood would assuredly be covered at high water. The 10
heavy mist and lonely coast gave scarcely a hope that help
would come ere the slowly rising waters must devour them.
Still there was no murmur. Again the gallant boatswain,
who still held the rope, volunteered to make an effort to
save his comrades. With a few words of earnest prayer, 15
he secured the rope round his waist, struggled hard with the
waves, and reached the shore, whence he sent back the news
of his safety by a loud cheer to his comrades.