1809, June.

Thursday, 1st.

State of the weather. Zeal of the Writer’s assistants.

The weather, during the months of April and May, had been uncommonly boisterous, and so cold that the thermometer seldom exceeded 40°, while the barometer was generally about 29.50. We had not only hail and sleet, but the snow, on the last day of May, lay on the decks and rigging of the ship to the depth of about three inches; and, although now entering upon the month of June, the length of the day was the chief indication of summer. Yet such is the effect of habit, and such was the expertness of the landing-master’s crew, that, even in this description of weather, seldom a tide’s work was lost. Such was the ardour and zeal of the heads of the several departments at the Rock, including Mr Peter Logan, foreman builder, Mr Francis Watt, foreman mill-wright, and Captain Wilson, landing-master, that it was on no occasion necessary to address them, excepting in the way of precaution and restraint. Under these circumstances, however, the writer not unfrequently felt considerable anxiety, of which this day’s experience will afford an example.

Eleven of the artificers left on the Beacon.

This morning, at a quarter past 8, the artificers were landed as usual, and, after three hours and three quarters’ work, 5 stones were laid, the greater part of this tide having been taken up in completing the boring and trenailing of the stones formerly laid. At noon, the writer, with the seamen and artificers, proceeded to the Tender, leaving on the Beacon the joiners, and several of these who were troubled with sea-sickness, among whom was Mr Logan, who remained with Mr Watt, counting altogether eleven persons. During the first and middle parts of these twenty-four hours, the wind was from the east, blowing what seamen term “fresh breezes;” but, in the afternoon it shifted to E.N.E., accompanied with so heavy a swell of sea, that the Smeaton and Tender struck their topmasts, launched in their boltsprits, and “made all snug” for a gale. At 4 P. M. the Smeaton was obliged to slip her moorings, and passed the Tender, drifting before the wind, with only the foresail set. In passing, Mr Pool hailed that he must run for the Firth of Forth, to prevent the vessel from “riding under.”

They encounter a severe gale.

On board of the Tender the writer’s chief concern was about the eleven men left upon the Beacon. Directions were accordingly given that every thing about the vessel should be put in the best possible state, to present as little resistance to the wind as possible, that she might have the better chance of riding out the gale. Among these preparations, the best bower cable was bent, so as to have a second anchor in readiness, in case the mooring hawser should give way, that every means might be used for keeping the vessel within sight of the prisoners on the Beacon, and thereby keep them in as good spirits as possible. From the same motive the boats were kept afloat, that they might be less in fear of the vessel leaving her station. The landing-master had, however, repeatedly expressed his anxiety for the safety of the boats, and wished much to have them hoisted on board. At 7 P. M., one of the boats, as he feared, was unluckily filled with sea from a wave breaking into her, and it was with great difficulty that she could be baled out and got on board, with the loss of her oars, rudder, and loose thwarts. Such was the motion of the ship, that in taking this boat on board, her gunwale was stove in, and she otherwise received considerable damage. Night approached, but it was still found quite impossible to go near the Rock. Consulting, therefore, the safety of the second boat, she also was hoisted on board of the Tender.

The Tender is also very uncomfortable.

At this time, the cabins of the Beacon were only partially covered, and had neither been provided with bedding nor a proper fire-place, while the stock of provisions was but slender. In these uncomfortable circumstances, the people on the Beacon were left for the night, nor was the situation of those on board of the Tender much better. The rolling and pitching motion of the ship was excessive; and, excepting to those who had been accustomed to a residence in the Floating-light, it seemed quite intolerable. Nothing was heard but the hissing of the winds and the creeking of the bulk-heads or partitions of the ship: the night was therefore spent in the most unpleasant reflections upon the condition of the people on the Beacon, especially in the prospect of the Tender being driven from her moorings. But even in such a case, it afforded some consolation that the stability of the fabric was never doubted, and that the boats of the Floating-light were at no great distance, and ready to render the people on the Rock the earliest assistance which the weather would admit. The writer’s cabin being in the sternmost part of the ship, which had what sailors term a good entry, or was sharp built, the sea, as before noticed, struck her counter with so much violence, that the water, with a rushing noise, continually forced its way up the rudder case, lifted the valve of the water-closet, and overran the cabin floor. In these circumstances, daylight was eagerly looked for, and hailed with delight, as well by those afloat, as by the artificers upon the Rock.