“Look out! hold on everybody fore and aft! here it comes!” I shouted, interrupting Tompion; for at that moment I caught sight of an enormous wave rushing after us with its gleaming white phosphorescent crest towering a dozen feet above our taffrail, and curling over in such a manner that I saw it must inevitably break on board. I had just time to spring to the foot of the mainmast and grasp a rope’s-end when down it thundered upon the deck, completely burying and overwhelming the schooner fore and aft, filling her decks to the rail, and sweeping forward with such irresistible power that my arms were almost torn from my sockets as I held on for dear life to the rope I had grasped. I had heard a crash even above the howling of the gale and the rush of water as I was swept off my feet, and I made up my mind that the schooner was doomed; nothing, I thought, could withstand the rush and power of so tremendous a body of water as that which had swept over the ship; and if she ever rose again I was quite prepared to find that everything above the level of the decks had been carried away, and that the hull was full of water and ready to founder beneath the next sea which might strike us.
At length, half drowned, I once more found my feet and got my head above water. Either there was a little more light in the sky or my eyes had become accustomed in a measure to the gloom, or perhaps it was the phosphorescence of the sea which helped us, at all events there was light enough from some source to enable me to see that the schooner had relieved herself from the mountain of water which had overwhelmed her, and was still afloat. My first glance was aft, and I must confess that I was as surprised as I was pleased to see that Tompion and the helmsman were still on board, and that the wheel was intact. The bulwarks, however, excepting some ten feet or so on each quarter, were gone throughout the whole length of the ship, so far as I could see. The sky-light was smashed to atoms, leaving a great yawning hole in the deck; the boats had disappeared from the booms, and I could see no sign of anyone moving about on the forecastle.
As I stood, bewildered and trying to recover my scattered senses, Tompion made his way along the deck to me.
“Are you all right, sir?” he asked.
“Yes—that is, I believe so, Tompion. Are you?”
“All right and tight, sir, thank God!” answered the gunner. “But I’m afraid it’s a bad job with the hands for’ard, sir. I don’t see anybody moving about—yes, there is—there’s one man—or two. I’ll see if I can’t reach the fo’c’s’le and find out the extent of the damage. And, if there’s hands enough left to do it, we must get some canvas on the ship at once, as you said, sir. Another such job as that last’d finish us. As it is the ship must be nearly half full of water. We must get some planks and a tarpaulin over that hole in the deck first thing, however. I’ll go for’ard and see what can be done.”
Watching his chance my companion made a sudden rush along the deck toward the forecastle, which he gained in safety, and from which he returned in about five minutes, followed by the carpenter and several men, with the gratifying intelligence that, so far as he could ascertain, only two of the crew were missing. The forecastle, however, was reported to be nearly three feet deep in water; and the heavy sickly heave of the ship told me but too plainly that, whilst we had already experienced a very narrow escape, there was undoubtedly a great deal of water in the hold, and that we were in a most critical situation.
Without waiting to sound the well, I ordered the pumps to be rigged and manned forthwith, the carpenter, with half a dozen hands, at the same time setting out to get the lumber and tarpaulin necessary for closing up the yawning aperture in the deck left by the demolished sky-light. Meanwhile another gang of men, under Woodford the master, were busy forward trying to loose, reef, and set the foresail.
The carpenter and his gang had found what they wanted, and were busy with their work when the helmsman gave a warning cry, and at the same moment another sea came tumbling inboard, not so heavy as the first, certainly, but sufficient to flood the decks to a depth of a couple of feet; and I heard the water pouring down into the cabin like a cataract. This happened five or six times in succession, the men being each time driven from their work and their labour rendered of no avail. At length another unusually heavy sea broke on board, and when the decks were once more clear the water could be plainly heard rushing about in the hold with the heave and roll of the ship.
“We’re foundering! we’re foundering! every man for himself!” was now the cry, and the men made a rush to the two boats still hanging to the davits. A groan of despair burst from the poor fellows as, on one of them jumping into each to clear her away for lowering, it was found that neither boat would swim, some of the bottom planking being driven out in each case.