Nothing particular occurred after our leaving Hobart’s Town, till we arrived in Sidney, in New South Wales, on the 13th of July. There we took in some ballast; that is, heavy articles which are put in the bottom of the ship to keep it from turning over with the wind. Our boatswain, Mr. Everitt, left us at Sidney, and we took on board in his stead Mr. Pigot, and two or three seamen.
We set sail for China on the 29th. An accident happened two or three days after leaving the town, which almost caused the death of our excellent chief officer, Mr. Clare. An anchor is an iron instrument affixed to the end of a long chain, and is used to keep ships in one place. It generally hangs at the bows, or fore part of the vessel. The men were getting the anchor in its proper place, and Mr. Clare was helping them; on a sudden, the wood of the implement which he was using broke, and he fell into the sea. We immediately stopped work, and let down the boat, and he being an excellent swimmer, was able to keep up till the boat reached him. We were at that time going about six miles an hour.
We sailed this time with fine weather and good winds, and made the entrance to Torres Straits, a narrow passage between two islands in the Southern Ocean, on the 14th of August, in the evening.
The wind now began to blow rather hard; so much so that the captain thought it necessary to take in some of the sails, and would not attempt to go on during the dark. However, at daylight on the next morning we again set sail, although the wind was very high, and the water getting rough, that is, forming itself into large waves.
The wind continued to increase till about ten o’clock in the morning, when the ship struck on a reef called the “Detached Reef.” A reef is a number of rocks in the water, at a short distance from the land, over which the water just rises, without leaving room enough for a ship to pass. The Detached Reef was near the entrance of Torres Straits.
So violent was the shock, that the rudder (that by which a ship is guided,) and the keel, (that ledge which runs along the bottom of the ship,) were both knocked off, and the captain gave it as his opinion that nothing could save the ship.
The chief mate cut away the masts, in order to lighten her; but without effect, and we then found that the bottom was broken in, at which place the water soon made an entrance, and completely spoiled every thing she contained. The high and swelling waves broke completely over her, and in a short time the vessel was a perfect wreck.
It was happy for us that the upper part kept together as it did, though there was so much danger, from the water rising, that every one expected to be washed over. There was plainly to be heard above the din of the wind and sea, the horrible groaning of the planks forming the sides of the ship, between which the water rushed as through a sieve; and as they were one by one broken away from the ill-fated vessel, we felt that we were approaching nearer to a death from which we could not hope to escape, unless by some merciful interposition of Divine Goodness we should be rescued from our watery enemy.
Nor were these thoughts lessened by seeing that ours was not the only vessel that had cause to repent the dangerous and almost unknown navigation of these straits. About three or four miles from us, to the windward, or that side from which the wind blows, we observed a ship high and dry, that is, lying out of water, upon the reefs; she had her masts standing, her royal yards across, and her sails set; in which state she had seemingly been left by her crew.
At the time of the vessel striking, Mrs. Doyley was taking coffee in the cabin, and her infant was asleep in one of the berths, little dreaming to what future ills his weak and helpless frame was to be exposed.