Sir Edward now left the Arethusa, and joined the Indefatigable, one of three 64-gun ships which had lately been cut down to heavy frigates. One part of the plan was to reduce their masts and rigging in proportion to the diminished size of their hulls. All of them proved slow and unmanageable ships; and Sir Edward, who had satisfied himself of the cause of the failure, applied to the Navy Board for permission to alter the Indefatigable. The Comptroller of the Navy was much offended at the request, denying that the plan of the Navy Board had failed; and when Sir Edward alluded to the notorious inefficiency of the ships, he said that it arose entirely from faulty stowage of the ballast and hold. They parted, mutually dissatisfied; and Sir Edward appealed immediately to Lord Spencer, who, a short time before, had been placed at the head of the Admiralty. This nobleman showed every desire to meet Sir Edward's wishes, but expressed very great reluctance to involve himself in a difference with the Navy Board; and requested him to arrange the affair, if possible, himself. He accordingly attempted it; but finding no disposition to meet his views, he at length declined the appointment, saying that he would not risk his credit by commanding a worthless ship. This brought the question to a point; and he was allowed to alter the Indefatigable according to his own plans. They were entirely successful, for she became an excellent sailer and a most efficient ship.
Sir Edward was remarkably accurate in judging of a ship's qualities. For this he was probably indebted in the first place to the practical knowledge of ship-building which he acquired, when he assisted to construct the squadron on Lake Champlain, and to his very close intimacy with Lieutenant (afterwards Rear-Admiral) Schanck, an enthusiast on the subject, and who always regarded him with peculiar pride and attachment, as a pupil of his own. The general knowledge which he thus obtained, could not fail to be improved in the course of his own service. Many illustrations may be given of the correctness of his opinion in this respect. The Bordelais, a French cruiser taken by the Revolutionaire, carrying 24 guns on a flush deck, 149 feet long, was bought into the service, and commissioned by Captain Manby. She was one of the fastest and most beautiful vessels ever seen, but so dangerous, that she was called, in the navy, "the coffin." Sir Edward saw her alongside the jetty at Plymouth, and pointing out to her commander the cause of her dangerous character, recommended the means of guarding against it. His advice was always acted upon, and the Bordelais survived; while two other captured sloops of war, the Railleur and Trompeuse, built after her model, but on a reduced scale, foundered with their crews on the same day. When the 10-gun brigs were introduced into the service, he condemned them in the strongest terms; and being asked what should be done with those already built, he replied, "Put them all together, and burn them, for they will drown their crews." His prediction has been too correctly fulfilled in the fate of these vessels, of which six were lost in the packet-service in six years and a half, with two hundred and fifty people. At a much later period, when the beautiful Caledonia, the most perfect ship of her class, was about to be made the victim of an experiment, he implored, but unfortunately in vain, that she might be spared.
The Indefatigable sailed from Falmouth on her first cruise on the 2nd of March; and in the following week, the squadron captured fifteen out of a convoy of twenty-five vessels, which had taken shelter among the rocks of the Penmarcks. On the 7th of May, she had a most narrow escape from shipwreck. The extraordinary circumstances connected with the accident, are related in the words of the late Capt. George Bell, at that time one of the officers.
"In the summer of 1795, the Indefatigable, when cruising off Cape Finisterre, fell in with Admiral Waldegrave's squadron of line-of-battle ships, and the Concorde frigate. The admiral made signal for the Indefatigable and Concorde to chase a small strange sail running along shore. All sail was soon set, royals, top-gallant studding-sails, &c., the wind being northerly, and the water as smooth as glass. At noon, Mr. George Bell, acting master, was in the act of crossing from the starboard gangway to the quarter-deck, to report twelve o'clock to the captain, who was looking over the larboard quarter-deck hammocks at the land, and strange sail, when he suddenly heard a rumbling noise, as if a top-sail-tie had given way, and the yard was coming down. He looked aloft, but saw nothing amiss, and then perceived that the ship was aground. Mr. Bell instantly sprang into the main-chains, and dropped the hand lead over. Only eighteen feet water was on the rock, the ship drawing nineteen and a half feet abaft. There were twelve and fourteen fathoms under the how and stern, consequently she hung completely in the centre. Sir Edward, whose judgment in moments of danger was always so correct and decisive as never to have occasion to give a second order, immediately directed some of the main-deck guns to be moved, and the ship's company to sally her off the rock. This fortunately succeeded. The ship fell over heavily, and started into deep water, with five feet water in her hold. Signals of distress were now made to the flag-ship, and the admiral ordered the Indefatigable to proceed to Lisbon to repair, and the Concorde to accompany us to the mouth of the Tagus. We arrived on the third day after the accident. So serious was the leak, that the men could not quit the pumps for a moment, and only a good ship's company, such as we had, could have kept the ship afloat.
"On the evening of our arrival, the English consul sent on board a number of Portuguese, to relieve the crew. Early next morning (having the morning watch) I observed all these people leave the pumps. It was a saint's day, and they would not work. I ran into the Captain's cabin to state the circumstance; he in a moment came out in his dressing-gown, with a drawn sword, chased the Portuguese round the gangways and forecastle, made them to a man lay in at the pumps, and kept them at it till the pumps sucked.
"In order to ascertain whether both sides of the ship had been injured. Sir Edward resolved to examine the bottom himself; and to the astonishment and admiration of everybody who witnessed this heroic act, he plunged into the water, thoroughly examined both sides, and satisfied himself that the starboard side only had been damaged. This saved much time and expense; for had not Sir Edward hazarded the experiment, the apparatus for heaving down must have been shifted over. The Indefatigable was docked on her arrival at Plymouth, early in August, and it then appeared how accurately he had described the injury. She had twenty-seven of her floors and first futtocks broke, and the Portuguese, in repairing her, had put in seventeen feet of main-keel. The frame of a regular-built frigate could not have stood the shock.
"A few days after the submarine inspection, the gun-room officers invited Sir Edward to dinner, to commemorate the 10th of June, the Nymphe's action, on board the Principe Real, a Portuguese 80-gun ship, used as a hulk by the Indefatigable's crew, while their ship was repairing. In the evening, some of the crew took Sir Edward on their shoulders, carried him all over the hulk, and swore they would make him an admiral."
In her next cruise, the Indefatigable nearly lost her gallant captain. On the 31st of August she had strong gales and squally weather, the wind flying round from W. by S. to N.E., S.E., and S.W. In the afternoon the weather moderated. The ship had been hove to under a close-reefed main-topsail, with the top-gallant yards down, the sea running very high, and the ship pitching much. It was Sunday, and the captain was at dinner with the officers, when a bustle was heard on deck. He ran instantly to the poop, and saw two men in the water, amidst the wreck of a six-oared cutter. One of the tackles had unhooked, through a heavy sea lifting the boat, and the men had jumped into her to secure it, when another sea dashed her to pieces. The captain stepped into the gig, which was carried over the stern above the cutter, and ordered it to be lowered; and though his officers urgently dissuaded him from so dangerous an attempt, he determined to hazard it. At this moment the ship made a deep plunge aft, the boat was stove, and the captain left in the water. He was much hurt, and bled profusely, for he was dashed violently against the rudder, and his nostril was torn up by the hook of one of the tackles. But his coolness and self-possession did not forsake him, and calling for a rope, he slung himself with one of the many that were thrown to him, and cheerfully ordered those on board to haul away. As soon as possible, the jolly-boat, with an officer and crew, was hoisted out from the booms, and fortunately saved the men.
This was the third time within the present year that Sir Edward had risked his life to save others. While the ship was being fitted out, he had been instrumental in saving two lives at Point Beach. Again, a short time before she sailed, and while she was lying at Spithead, the coxswain of one of the cutters fell overboard. The captain ran aft, and was instantly in the water, where he caught the man just as he was sinking. Life was apparently extinct, but happily was restored by the usual means. Perhaps no man has oftener distinguished himself in this manner; but the splendour of one act of heroism and humanity leaves all the others in the shade.
On the 26th of January, 1796, when the Indefatigable was lying in Hamoaze, after having been docked, the Dutton, a large East Indiaman, employed in the transport service, on her way to the West Indies with part of the 2nd, or Queen's regiment, was driven into Plymouth by stress of weather. She had been out seven weeks, and had many sick on board. The gale increasing in the afternoon, it was determined to run for greater safety to Catwater; but the buoy at the extremity of the reef off Mount Batten having broke adrift, of which the pilots were not aware, she touched on the shoal, and carried away her rudder. Thus rendered unmanageable, she fell off, and grounded under the citadel, where, beating round, she lay rolling heavily with her broadside to the waves. At the second roll she threw all her masts over board together.