Under the Meteor Flag: Log of a Midshipman during the French Revolutionary War

by Harry Collingwood

A Voyage upon a Raft.

We had now time to look about us, and to realise our position, which—though it might easily have been worse—was certainly the reverse of enviable.

In the first place we were upon a frail raft which, well constructed though it was, could not be expected to hold long together, unless we were favoured with exceptionally fine weather. In the next place everything of which we were possessed in the shape of provisions was comprised in the four dead fowls found in the hen-coop; and of water, or any other liquid with which to quench our thirst, we had not a single drop. On the other hand the island of Saint Domingo was under our lee, at a distance of about ninety miles, and if our raft would only hold together so long and maintain the speed at which it was then travelling, we might hope to reach land in from two and a half to three days.

I laid these facts before my companions, directing their special attention to the circumstance that we had to look forward to three days of suffering from thirst, and also from hunger in a minor degree, urging them to the brave endurance of these privations, if necessary, and pointing out to them that though unfortunately we happened to be in one of the least-frequented of the passages, there was a chance, although a somewhat slender one, of our being picked up at any hour, and I wound up by reminding them that, even on that frail raft, we were as much under the protection of Him who holds the waters in the hollow of His hand as we should be were we safe on shore. At the doctor’s suggestion we then all knelt down, while he offered up a brief but earnest prayer for our deliverance. We all felt much more hopeful after this short religious exercise, and went cheerfully about our work of examining the raft, now that we had daylight with us once more, with the object of ascertaining whether it was possible to make any improvement in it or not. The examination, careful and minute though it was, was soon over, and we came to the conclusion that no improvement was possible with the materials at hand, and that, if the lashings did not give way and the weather continued fine, we had not much to fear.

Hawsepipe had rigged steering-gear to the raft by lashing a piece of deck-plank, some twelve feet long, to the schooner’s foremast in such a way that half of it was immersed in the water and acted as a rudder, while the other half slanted in over the raft and served as a tiller; it was, in fact, a rude substitute for a steering-oar. This answered its purpose perfectly, in so far as that it enabled us to keep the raft dead before the wind; but when I tried the experiment of edging a couple of points or so to the southward of the direction in which the wind blew, with the view of reaching the Saint Domingo shore as quickly as possible, I found that the speed of the raft lessened sensibly, and that she began to drive slightly sideways through the water—she would not, in short, travel in any direction except dead before the wind, and we were therefore compelled to rest content with that, and to devote all our energies to the most careful steering, so as to run straight to leeward and so get the greatest possible speed out of her.

We steered in spells of two hours each, the rest seeking shelter from the sun’s rays in the shadow of the sail, the seamen trying to pass away the time as much as possible in sleep. As the morning wore on, the heat became very great and our thirst grew with it, but we managed to stave off its worst pangs by pouring sea-water plentifully over each other, as we sat in our clothes. About noon we thought of dinner, but, hungry as we by that time were, we scarcely fancied our fare, which was one of the dead fowls, to be eaten raw of course, since we had no means of cooking it. Finding that the rest were equally as squeamish as myself in this respect, I suggested and it was agreed that the fowls should remain untouched until we felt hungry enough to eat the uncooked flesh with a relish. Toward sun-down we had a most unwelcome addition to our company, in the shape of three sharks, which suddenly made their appearance close under the stern of the raft, maintaining their position, at about three yards distance, with a perseverance which was worthy of a better cause. The size of their dorsal fins, which were carried well out of the water, assured us that our followers were sharks of the largest size, and enabled us to form a pretty fair idea of what would be our fate should any of us be unfortunate enough to fall or be washed off the raft.

A keen lookout was maintained during the whole of that day, but no sail was seen, and at length the sun went down in a cloudless sky, giving us an assurance of the continuance of fine weather.

I anxiously marked the position of the luminary when he reached the horizon, and saw, with a heart-sick feeling which I cannot describe, that we were—and had probably been all day—sailing a course about W.S.W., or two points more to the northward than I had hoped. This was a most serious matter, since it would throw us much farther to the westward, and necessitate our going a much greater distance, probably nearly double, before we could possibly reach land; and I began, for the first time, to fear that we might possibly miss Saint Domingo altogether. And I knew that if we did that we might give ourselves up for lost, as I could not entertain much hope of our being able to hold out until we should reach the Windward Channel, and even if we did, we might still fail to fall in with a ship to pick us up, in which case we should have to go on to Jamaica, which we could scarcely reach, under the most favourable circumstances, in less than a fortnight. These disquieting thoughts, however, I deemed it prudent to confine to my own breast.

About midnight my worst apprehensions as to the course of the raft were confirmed by the discovery of breakers ahead, which I knew, from the position of the “Juanita” on the previous night, could indicate nothing else than that we were running down upon the Square Handkerchief Shoal, of which I had hoped to pass clear to the southward.

We gave the raft as much starboard helm as she would take, and after a long and most anxious time succeeded in just scraping clear of the breakers, which we found were occasioned by an extensive group of rocks just awash. The sight of these rocks enabled me to identify our position, as I recognised in them the rocks which occupy the north-east corner of the shoal. We were therefore passing as nearly as possible directly across the middle of the shoal, instead of going to the southward of it, as I had hoped.