Of course the wreck ought not to have occurred; but Parker, the boatswain, who was in charge of the ship when she piled herself up, unfortunately happened to overhear Mrs Vansittart remark, only the day before the disaster, that we were then in a part of the ocean which was not only very sparsely used, but, according to the charts, was supposed to be absolutely void of dangers. Hence I imagine he must not only have grown careless himself, but must also have permitted the look-outs to become so also; with the result that, on such a pitch-dark night as the preceding one had been, the ship would be absolutely on top of the danger, and escape from it impossible, before its existence was discovered.
Well, our plight, although bad enough in all conscience, might easily have been a good deal worse. For if the ship had remained afloat a few minutes longer than she actually did, she would have driven completely across the reef and sunk in the lagoon, when probably the whole of us who happened to be below would have gone down with her, and the disaster would have been complete. As it was, there were half a dozen of us who had escaped drowning, although our prospects for the future were anything but brilliant. To start with, the diminutive sandbank astern of the wreck was impossible as a place of prolonged residence, though we might, perhaps, if driven to it, contrive to exist for a few days upon the shellfish which no doubt might be collected along the margin of the inner beach, assisted, perhaps, by a few sea-birds’ eggs. But there was no fresh water, so far as I could discover with the aid of the ship’s telescope, nor was there so much as a blade of grass in the way of shelter.
Therefore it was perfectly evident that we must stick to the wreck until something came along to take us off, or until I could put together something in the nature of a craft or raft capable of being handled under sail and of making a voyage to the nearest civilised land. That, as anyone who has used the sea will know, was a pretty tall order for a young fellow like myself, with such assistance only as four women and a boy could afford me. Of course there was the possibility that the wreck might break up during the next gale. But I hardly thought she would, because she must have driven to her present berth while last night’s breeze was at its height, and from the look of things generally I doubted whether a sea heavy enough to destroy her would ever reach us where we then lay. The reef would break it up and render it practically harmless before it could get so far as the spot which we occupied.
Still, I realised that it would not be wise to trust too much to that belief; and I determined to get to work upon some sort of craft at the earliest moment possible. Meanwhile, however, since under the most favourable circumstances the wreck must obviously be our home for some time to come, unless indeed we should be lucky enough to be seen and taken off, the first thing to be done was to clear the ship of water and get the cabins dry again as speedily as possible; and I determined that I would make that my first job.
Having now decided upon something in the nature of a plan of campaign, I returned to the drawing-room, descending to it by way of the companion—the stairway of which was still intact—with the object of making my report to Mrs Vansittart and submitting my plans for her approval. But when I reached the apartment I found the occupants in the very act of descending to the dining-room, in order to partake of breakfast. This had been prepared by the two stewardesses, the senior of whom—the young Frenchwoman, Lizette Charpentier, who also acted as Mrs Vansittart’s maid—had just made her appearance with the information that the meal was ready. I therefore decided to postpone what I had to say until after breakfast, believing that everybody would be the better able to listen to bad news if they were first fortified with a good meal.
Chapter Ten.
Adapting Ourselves to Circumstances.
To ward off the enquiries that sprang to Mrs Vansittart’s lips the moment I appeared was a little difficult, but I managed it by simply declining to say a word until after breakfast. When, however, we presently all sat down at the table together, I soon perceived that the task of breaking to her the full extent of the night’s disaster, to which I had been looking forward with dread, was likely to be less painful than I had anticipated. For Mrs Vansittart was far too experienced in nautical matters to be easily deceived. Moreover, during my absence there had been time for her to think, and to draw her own conclusions, not only from what she saw and heard, but also from what she failed to see and hear—particularly the sound of men’s voices and footsteps. So that, as the meal progressed, I began to understand that it would require very little effort on my part to bring complete realisation home to her.