About four o’clock the next morning, we were disturbed by a noise which made every one in the afterpart of the vessel, below the upper deck, imagine, for a moment, that the ship had struck a rock, so violent was the shock given to the frame of the vessel.
On inquiry, it was ascertained that one of the extra water-tanks carried on deck, not having been lashed, had got adrift; and, after having first nearly unshipped the funnel, it brought up against the bulwark, where it injured the side of the vessel considerably.
So slight a cause creating so violent a shock gave us but a poor opinion of the frame of the ship, which we found was built by contract.
The storm continued with that loud howling of the wind, and sharp whistling among the shrouds, which betokened the increase of the gale; while, occasionally, the vessel would descend into the sea as if she were overburdened, and anon a mighty sea would strike, arresting her in her progress, and making her shake from stem to stern.
At five o’clock the close-reefed topsails were blown into ribbons, the storm staysail was torn to shreds, and the engines, unassisted by canvas, soon gave indications of their weakness. It was found that the machinery was totally unfit to drive the vessel in the face of the gale and sea with which she had to contend. As day dawned, there was every prospect of an increase of the gale, and the prudent commander determined to seek shelter while yet the engines were not disabled. Hardly had we bore up for Plymouth, when the gale increased, and, by the rapid falling of the barometer, we had reasons for believing that the most dangerous part of the revolving storm passed very near to us.
As soon as we were at anchor under shelter in the magnificent breakwater at Plymouth, the passengers began to make their appearance in the saloon, and it was then discovered that there were not seats for many of them at the table; in consequence of which, and the general discontent at the arrangements on board, ten of the passengers left the ship.
This created some vacancies in the state-rooms leading out of the saloon, and as I was obliged to go on by that mail, I insisted upon having one of the vacant state-rooms, by which means we left the “lower regions.” All the fixtures which we had put up for our comfort were removed to our new quarters, and the ladies on board said that my wife’s cabin was the most comfortable in the vessel, which I thought was not saying much for it.
During our late cruise, many of the ladies who had embarked without their husbands fared very badly. Mrs. R., with two children and a nurse, passengers to Mauritius, from the hour she came on board, on the eve of our departure from Dartmouth, until her husband stepped on deck at Plymouth, to take herself and little ones on shore, had not tasted anything with the exception of a little cold water taken from a can in her cabin, which was so strong of paint that it made herself and her children quite ill. Of course this lady and her family did not return to the “Ireland” after landing at Plymouth, nor would any of her friends sail again in any vessel having W.S.L. connected with her.
Soon after our arrival at Plymouth, we had a warm invitation from our friends on shore to renew our late visit. We got a good ducking while reaching the shore in one of the Plymouth boats; but this and our past dangers were soon forgotten in the affectionate greetings and smiling welcomes of our kind friends. But this was not to last long, for the next day, as we were sitting down to an early Sunday dinner, a carriage drove up to the door, with a note from the Captain of the “Ireland,” telling us that he was going to start immediately; so, once more taking a hasty farewell of our hospitable friends, we found ourselves again on board the “Ireland.”