Twenty-one days after losing our masts we sighted King’s Island, where a few days before, unknown to us, the ship “British Admiral” was wrecked and ninety-seven lives lost, so that bad as our case was, there were others far worse. Three days after sighting King’s Island we spoke the sailing vessel “Windsor Castle.” Her captain asked if we wanted assistance. Our captain told him he would like to be reported, as he feared she would be unmanageable when she got near the coast. The captain of the “Windsor Castle” then very generously sailed back to Cape Otway, and reported us disabled. The Government at Melbourne at once despatched the tug “Warhawk” to look for us. Just as her coal was about used up she came near us and told the captain she had not coal enough to take us in tow, but would go into port to coal, and come out again for us.
That night, however, after the tug had left us, the Government despatch boat, which had been sent out to look for us along the coast; sighted us and at once took us in tow. What joy filled the hearts of all on board when we found ourselves in tow and nearing Melbourne. All our suffering was forgotten in the joy of our safety.
On arrival in dock we heard that the “Rooperal,” “Chrisonomy,” “Dallam Tower,” “Loch Ard,” and “Cambridgeshire” had all arrived crippled like ourselves, but the “British Admiral” as already mentioned, had been lost on King’s Island, and ninety-seven lives with her.
The passengers, you may be sure, lost no time in getting ashore. The bulk of the crew was paid off as the ship would most likely be five or six months there, as the new masts and rigging had to be sent out from England. I was not among those paid off, but of that, and what came of it shall be told in the next chapter.
CHAPTER XVIII
Lost in the Bush
During the five months we lay at Williamstown Wharf, replacing the disabled masts and rigging, I spent what I consider the happiest time of my life. The rigging work was placed in the hands of the well-known firm of Messrs. Johnson Bros., of Melbourne, and well they carried out their contract. I was employed with them all the time, and learnt to be a thorough practical seaman, especially in the handling and splicing of wire, which, in after years, stood me in good service. The working hours for the riggers were from eight in the morning to five in the evening, but the four apprentices and I worked from six in the morning until six in the evening, as we cleaned and washed the decks both before and after the riggers had been working. The master rigger paid me five shillings every Saturday out of his own pocket for working with them; so that I always had a little pocket money to go on with. I went ashore every evening and had a right good time. It was here that I found what a good thing it was to belong to the Order of Good Templars. I attached myself to a lodge near the dock, and at once found myself in a circle of friends, who vied with each other in making me welcome in their homes, and at the various lodges. Needless to say that the young sisters in the lodges played sad havoc with my, at that time, susceptible heart, and I was more or less madly in love during my stay there, and scarcely a night passed without a social gathering at one or other of the lodges in Melbourne.
But my happy time was drawing to a close, and the “John Kerr” was again ready for sea, but I had made up my mind she should sail without me, the fascination of the gold fields had laid its hold on me, and I only waited for a favourable opportunity to set out and try my fortune in this direction, having made up my mind to leave her before she left the wharf.
The opportunity offered itself the night before we were to haul out into the bay. A coasting barque, hailing from Newcastle, New South Wales, was lying at the other side of the wharf. It was bound for Newcastle. I had arranged with one of her crew, whom I had become acquainted with, to stow away in her the night before she sailed. I also knew that the officers and the watchman of the “John Kerr” were carefully watching the two apprentices and myself to prevent us deserting, but the old saying, “where there’s a will there’s a way,” was borne out in my case, although I had to use every caution to circumvent them. However, I did manage it. The barque “Woodville” was to sail from the jetty at midnight. About an hour before she cast off, I saw our watchman standing beside the gangway, so, without more ado, I slipped over the side and down a rope, and landed on one of the crossbeams under the jetty. I crawled along the piles until I got to the other side of the jetty and just abreast of the bows of the “Woodville.” Seizing the bow-head lines, I climbed on board and slipped into the forecastle. The sailors welcomed me with a laugh, and shewed me where to hide, but there was no need for me to do this, as I had barely got on board before the order was given to loose the topsails, and when these were set, the lines were cast off, and the vessel at once got under weigh.
By daylight we had cleared the heads and were running before a strong breeze for Bass Straits. I then went on deck and reported myself to Captain Conely, who did not shew any surprise at my appearance, even if he felt it, but just said: