Frank Mildmay; Or, The Naval Officer

by Frederick Marryat

On consulting Horseberg, which I had in the boat, I found that the island which we were now approaching was formerly inhabited by the Portuguese, but long since abandoned. I continued steering towards it during the night, until we heard the breakers roaring against the rocks, when I hove-to, to windward of the land, till daylight.

The morning presented to our view a precipitous and rugged iron-bound coast, with high and pointed rocks, frowning defiance over the unappeaseable and furious waves which broke incessantly at their feet, and recoiled to repeat the blow. Thus for ages had they been employed, and thus for ages will they continue, without making any impression visible to the eye of man. To land was impossible on the part of the coast now under our inspection, and we coasted along, in hopes of finding some haven into which we might haul our boat, and secure her. The island appeared to be about nine miles long, evidently of volcanic formation, an assemblage of rocky mountains towering several hundred feet above the level of the sea. It was barren, except at the summit of the hills, where some trees formed a coronet, at once beautiful and refreshing, but tantalising to look at, as they appeared utterly inaccessible; and even supposing I could have discovered a landing-place, I was in great doubt whether I should have availed myself of it, as the island appeared to produce nothing which could have added to our comfort, while delay would only have uselessly consumed our provisions. There did not appear to be a living creature on the island, and the danger of approaching to find a landing-place was most imminent.

This unpromising appearance induced me to propose that we should continue our course to Rio Janeiro. The men were of another opinion. They said they had been too long afloat, cooped up, and that they should prefer remaining on the island to risking their lives any longer, in so frail a boat, on the wide ocean. We were still debating, when we came to a small spot of sand, on which we discovered two wild hogs, which we conjectured had come down to feed on the shell fish; this decided them, and I consented to run to leeward of the island, and seek for a landing-place. We sounded the west end, following the remarks of Horseberg, and ran for the cove of the Nine-Pin Rock. As we opened it, a scene of grandeur presented itself, which we had never met with before, and which in its kind is probably unrivalled in nature. An enormous rock rose, nearly perpendicularly, out of the sea, to the height of nine hundred or one thousand feet. It was as narrow at the base as it was at the top, and was formed exactly in the shape of the nine-pin, from which, it derives its name. The sides appeared smooth and even to the top, which was covered with verdure, and was so far above us that the sea birds, which in myriads screamed around it, were scarcely visible two-thirds of the way up. The sea beat violently against its base—the feathered tribe, in endless variety, had been for ages the undisturbed tenants of this natural monument; all its jutting points and little projections were covered with their white dung, and it seemed to me a wonderful effort of Nature, which had placed this mass in the position which it held, in spite of the utmost efforts of the winds and waves of the wide ocean.

Another curious phenomenon appeared at the other end of the cove. The lava had poured down into the sea, and formed a stratum; a second river of fused rock had poured again over the first, and had cooled so rapidly as to hang suspended, not having joined the former strata, but leaving a vacuum between for the water to fill up. The sea dashed violently between the two beds, and spouted magnificently through holes in the upper bed of lava to the height of sixty feet, resembling much the spouting of a whale, but with a noise and force infinitely greater. The sound indeed was tremendous, hollow, and awful. I could not help mentally adoring the works of the Creator, and my heart sunk within me at my own insignificance, folly, and wickedness.

As we were now running along the shore, looking for our landing-place, and just going to take in the sail, the American captain, who sat close to the man at the helm, seemed attentively watching something on the larboard bow of the boat. In an instant he exclaimed, "Put your helm, my good fellow, port-hard." These words he accompanied with a push of the helm so violent, as almost to throw the man overboard who sat on the larboard quarter. At the same moment, a heavy sea lifted the boat, and sent her many yards beyond, and to the right of a pointed rock, just flush or even with the water, which had escaped our notice, and which none suspected but the American captain (for these rocks do not show breakers every minute, if they did they would be easily avoided). On this we should most certainly have been dashed to pieces, had not the danger been seen and avoided by the sudden and skilful motion of the helm; one moment more, and one foot nearer, and we were gone.

"Merciful God!" said I, "to what fate am I reserved at last? How can I be sufficiently thankful for so much goodness?"

I thanked the American for his attention—told my men how much we were indebted to him, and how amply he had repaid our kindness in taking him off the wreck.

"Ah, lieutenant," said the poor man, "it is a small turn I've done you for the kindness you have shown to me."

The water was very deep, the rocks being steep; so, we lowered our sail, and getting our oars out, pulled in to look for a landing. At the farther end of the cove, we discovered the wreck of a vessel lying on the beach. She was broken in two, and appeared to be copper-bottomed. This increased the eagerness of the men to land; we rowed close to the shore, but found that the boat would be dashed to pieces if we attempted it. The midshipman proposed that one of us should swim on shore, and, by ascending a hill, discover a place to lay the boat in. This I agreed to; and the quarter-master immediately threw off his clothes. I made a lead-line fast to him under his arms, that we might pull him in if we found him exhausted. He went over the surf with great ease, until he came to the breakers on the beach, through which he could not force his way; for the moment he touched the ground with his foot, the recoil of the sea, and what is called by sailors the undertow, carried him back again, and left him in the rear of the last wave.

Three times the brave fellow made the attempt, and with the same result. At last he sunk, and we pulled him in very nearly dead. We, however, restored him by care and attention, and he went again to his usual duty. The midshipman now proposed that he should try to swim through the surf without the line, for that alone had impeded the progress of the quarter-master; this was true, but I would not allow him to run the risk, and we pulled along shore, until we came to a rock on which the surf beat very high, and which we avoided in consequence. This rock we discovered to be detached from the main; and within it, to our great joy, we saw smooth water; we pulled in, and succeeded in landing without much difficulty, and having secured our boat to a grapnel, and left two trusty men in charge of her, I proceeded with the rest to explore the cove; our attention was naturally first directed to the wreck which we had passed in the boat, and, after a quarter of an hour's scrambling over huge fragments of broken rocks, which had been detached from the sides of the hill, and encumbered the beach, we arrived at the spot.