Her crew consisted of the captain, Modesto Crispo, and eleven men; it was during a violent squall of wind and snow that the vessel was driven on the Sands, at about half-past five in the morning; the crew attempted to get away from the vessel in the boats, but in vain, the oars were broken in the attempt, and the boats stove in.
The lugger Eclipse, as she was running for the brig, spoke a Whitstable fishing-smack, and borrowed two of her men and her boat. They boarded the brig as the tide went down, and hoped to be able to get her off the Sands at the next high water. For this purpose, six Margate boatmen and the two Whitstable men were left on board.
But with the rising tide, the gale came on again in all its fury, and the boatmen had speedily to give up every hope of saving the vessel. They hoisted their boat on board to prevent her being swamped by the seas which were breaking heavily, and all hands began to feel that it was becoming a question, not of saving the vessel, but of saving their own lives. The sea rushed furiously over the wreck, lifting her, and then letting her fall with crushing violence upon the sands. Her timbers did not long withstand this trial of their strength; a hole was quickly knocked in her side, she filled with water, and settled down upon the sand.
The waves began now to break with great force over the deck; the lugger's boat was speedily knocked to pieces and swept overboard; the hatches were forced up, and some of the cargo which floated on the deck was at once washed away. The brig began to roll and labour fearfully, as wave after wave broke against her, with a force that shook her from stem to stern and threatened to throw her bodily upon her broadside; the men, fearing this, cut the weather-rigging of the main mast, and the mast soon broke off short with a great crash, and went over the side.
All hands now took refuge in the fore-rigging; nineteen men had then no other hope between them and a terrible death than the few shrouds of the shaking mast.
The wind beat against the poor fellows with hurricane force; each wave that broke against the vessel sprang up in columns of foam and drenched them to the skin; the air was full of spray and sleet, which froze upon them as it fell.
The Margate boatmen were there, but the Margate lugger could not have lived five minutes in the sea that surrounded the vessel; the Whitstable smack would have been wrecked at once, if she had attempted to get near the wreck, and thus the poor fellows, caught in a trap, had to be left by their comrades to their fate, their only chance of escape being the possibility of a life-boat coming to their rescue, and this before their frail support should yield to the rush of wind and sea.
And resting in this hope they waited hour after hour, clinging to the shrouds of the tottering mast; but no help came, until one and all despaired of life.
In the meanwhile, news of the wreck had spread like wildfire through Margate. In spite of the gale, and the blinding snow squalls, many of the inhabitants struggled to the cliff, and with spy-glasses tried to penetrate the scud, or to gain in the breaks of the storm some glimpses of the wreck.
As soon as the peril the crew of the brig were in was known, the smaller of the two Margate life-boats was manned and made to the rescue. As she sailed out into the storm, the seas broke over her and filled her; this her gallant crew heeded little at first, for they had every confidence in her powers to ride safely through any storm, that her air-tight compartments would prevent her from sinking; but to the astonishment of the men they found that the boat was rapidly losing her buoyancy, and fast becoming unmanageable; indeed she was filling with water, which came up to the men's waists. The air-tight boxes had evidently filled; and they remembered, too late, that the valves, with which each box is provided to let out any water that may leak in, had been left unscrewed in the excitement of starting. Their boat, with the air-tight compartments filled with water, virtually ceased to be a life-boat, and her crew had to struggle for their own safety. Although then within a quarter of a mile of the brig, there was no help for it, they could make no farther way against the storm; the boat was unmanageable, and the only chance of life left to the boatmen themselves, was to run her ashore on the nearest part of the coast. It was doubtful whether they would be able to succeed even in this; and it was not until they had battled for four hours with the sea and gale, that they were able to get ashore in Westgate Bay.