The Cruise of the 'Alerte' / The narrative of a search for treasure on the desert island of Trinidad

by E. F. Knight

It may be imagined what was my condition of mind when I realised all this, and the doctor was naturally as savage as myself. We stood on the pier and watched the men as they lowered the sails and then launched the whale-boat in order to fetch us off. Powell, Pursell, and two of the paid hands manned the boat. The sea was now so high that they could not approach very near to the shore. The waves were dashing high up the sides of the pier, and, in recoiling, rushed across the end of it in the form of a cascade.

Seeing that we must swim for it, we took off our coats and placed them in a hole at the top of the rocks. I shouted to those in the boat to keep some distance off, and throw a life-buoy with a line attached to it towards the pier, so that we could jump in and be hauled off by it. This was done. Choosing my time I leapt in, held on to the line, the boat was pulled seaward out of reach of the breakers and I clambered on board. Then we returned for the doctor. He stood on the pier, waiting for his opportunity, but one much higher roller than the rest came up and swept him off into the sea. Luckily, he was not dashed against any of the rocks, but managed to swim out clear of the recoil, while we backed towards him and took him on board.

Once safe on the deck of the 'Alerte' I listened to an explanation of the extraordinary manœuvres which had been taking place.

It seemed that either the yacht had dragged her anchor, or it was supposed that she had dragged her anchor—for the opinions on the matter were at variance—so the anchor was weighed, and, of course, as the chain got short, the yacht, even if she had not done so before, began to drag at a merry pace. Then sail was hoisted. By this time she had drifted very close to the rocks, but, as far as I understand, she was filling and would soon have been in safety again, when, for some reason or other, down went the anchor, and she lay rolling about close under the rocky Ness and the dangerous islets that lie off it. Up came the anchor once more, and this time the yacht drove so very near to the rocks that every one on board gave her up as lost, and some were looking out for the safest spot on shore to swim to. A high sea was breaking over the cliffs—one touch and she would have broken up. And now, as by a miracle—for I don't know how it happened, and no one on board seems to have known—the vessel got way on her and forged ahead, so that she became manageable, and was steered out to sea, clear of danger.

That she had been very nearly wrecked there can be no doubt, and that this had been due to very awkward handling was also certain. I was myself much to blame for the serious risk the poor old vessel had incurred. Had I left the doctor in charge on board, in his capacity of mate, while I was exploring the island, he would, no doubt, have extricated the yacht from her difficulty as soon as she began to drag—an easy task. I did not consider that there was any one else among the volunteers capable of undertaking the responsibility of command, but I was under the impression—wrongly it seems—that the five paid hands on board would have had the common sense to give her more chain when they perceived that the wind was freshening. Ted, for instance, was bos'n, and might have taken it upon himself to do this, as was indeed his understood duty when no officers were on board.

For the first and only time during the cruise these men lost their heads, and, having no recognised leader to direct them, each volunteered his own opinion as to what should be done, or as to whether the vessel was dragging at all; but, as far as I can make out, with one man giving one order at one end of the vessel, and another man giving a contradictory order at the other end, nothing at all was done until it was almost too late.

I made up my mind never from this time to leave the vessel, even for a short time, without putting some one definitely in charge, even if he were an incompetent person.

But the danger was not all over yet. The vessel was now tumbling about in the high swell at the edge of the breakers, the wind had dropped, and to have weighed the anchor would have been to have run great risk of being carried on to the rocks by the rollers. So, as she was safe where she was for the time, I saw it was advisable to wait until the conditions should be more favourable, before shifting our anchorage. The doctor and myself enjoyed our square meal to which we had been looking forward, and then I turned in to sleep, giving orders that I should be called at four in the afternoon.

At four the sea had gone down a good deal and there was a moderate breeze, so I decided to move to a safer berth. We hoisted the sails and, while we were getting the anchor up, I took the precaution, seeing what little sea-room we had, of putting the whale-boat in the water, with a long line fastened to the yacht's bows, ready to pull her head round and tow her seawards should she not cant in the right direction.

We got away safely, and the anchor was let go in nineteen fathoms close to where we had brought up on our arrival.