Quarterdeck and Fok'sle: Stories of the Sea

by Molly Elliot Seawell

For one moment Brydell’s heart stood still. He was the next officer in rank to Verdery on board, the only others besides the assistant engineer being Manning and Buxton, both his juniors, and upon him would rest the command of the flagship and her company in a gale which promised to be a hurricane. In another moment, though, his courage rose.

“I can only do my best,” he thought, “and all my life and training has been steadily toward making me fit for such an emergency; and all I can do is to keep off shore and trust in God.”

At that very moment the advance guard of the storm struck them. As they were at anchor their canvas was secure, but their steam was low, and the wind was driving them straight on to destruction. The Naiad’s head had been pointed seaward, but as the tempest struck her it knocked the great frigate around as if it had been a paper ship, and her heavy anchors began to drag.

“Call the boatswain!” was Brydell’s first quick order, given calmly enough although his heart was thumping like a steam engine, and his next was, “Call the signal man!”

In another moment the sharp call of the whistle was heard to get up the anchor, and above the darkness the night signal went up to the other ships, “Up anchors and go to sea!”

Their only safety lay in seeking the open ocean. Manning and Buxton were on deck immediately, cool and composed. Crawford, the young engineer, was at his post working hard to get up steam, and in a few minutes the throb of the engines, slow but steady, was heard.

Brydell was at the wheel with Atkins, his old acquaintance of his cadet days, who was now a quartermaster and remarkably cool-headed and reliable. The helm was put hard aport, and in the teeth of the gale the ship was brought about by slow degrees.

A black and blinding rain had come along with thunder, lightning, and wind, and it was only during the flashes of lightning that the Vixen and the Spitfire could be seen. Both sloops-of-war had more powerful engines for their size and worked better than the Naiad. As soon as the signal was sent up, Brydell saw that both ships had come about and were heading seaward for safety. They made but slow progress, but still they were moving steadily and passed close to the Naiad on the port quarter. The Naiad was struggling with the fury of the storm and, although her head had been brought partly around, she lay in the trough of the sea, her laboring engines seemingly unable to move her against the force of the hurricane.

All her company were on deck except the force down in the engine rooms, and the men had begun to make silent preparation for the fight for their lives. Most of them had kicked off their shoes and stripped off their jackets, expecting every moment to be engulfed in the boiling sea.

Suddenly a flash of lightning that lasted nearly a minute and played over the whole heavens showed them the Spitfire, passing them easily though slowly, followed by the Vixen. Captain Brydell was standing on the bridge of the Spitfire, and saw at a glance that Brydell was in command. He at once surmised that Lieutenant Verdery was disabled.