Tales of Shipwrecks and Other Disasters at Sea

by Thomas Bingley

There were now about twenty-five persons on the rock. The sailors had contrived to clamber to a sheltered side, but the situation of the passengers was pitiable in the extreme. One who had on but a shirt and waistcoat, was seated astride on a projection of the rock, his face towards the sea. Under him was another, his back to the sea, his toes resting on a narrow ledge, and his fingers clinging in a crevice; while close beside them were others equally exposed and equally helpless.

The persons on the side next the land observing some country people—about eighteen or twenty—on the shore, shouted to them, hoping to attract their attention, but there was no answer. The probability is, that the sound never reached the land, as they saw the people subsequently descend and carry off some of the pigs that had been washed ashore. Night came on. About eleven o'clock the wind rose and blew terrifically, but, even amid the raging of the storm, a startling shriek was now and then heard, as one after another, unable longer to maintain their hold, fell into the sea.

When morning broke, the survivers clambered to the sheltered side of the rock. As they had now been discovered by the people on shore, great exertions were made to relieve them; but, as the storm continued unabated, it was found impossible to reach the rock. Ducks with ropes fastened to them were sent out; only one arrived, and that they were unable to catch. Wire was attached to bullets, and rope to the wire, and sundry shots were fired; but this means also was unsuccessful.

The whole of Sunday was spent in a variety of experiments to convey a rope to the rock, without success. The feelings of the sufferers it would be impossible to describe, and their agony, when they saw the attempt to rescue them abandoned—when darkness settled down upon the deep, and they could no longer distinguish the figures of the persons on the cliff above them, it would not be easy to imagine. Their sole sustenance, during the two tedious days and nights which they had passed since the wreck, was a little salt water and the few scraps of seaweed that they could gather from one of the bleakest and most barren rocks on the coast. The night, however, was not so tempestuous as the preceding, and at daylight the shore was once more crowded by persons, all anxious to lend their assistance.

On Monday morning, Captain Manby's life-preserving apparatus was brought to their assistance, but the same difficulty was experienced in reaching the rock with the rope. Shots were again fired from guns and small cannon brought for the purpose, but without success. At length, a plan, which had been unsuccessful on the preceding day, succeeded, and about eleven o'clock two loaves of bread, and a little wine and spirits, were lowered to them—the first they had partaken of since Friday. After refreshing themselves, they were hauled up, one by one. Of the forty-three persons who embarked on Friday morning, thirteen only escaped, and of these one died soon after their rescue.

Dreadful, Uncle Thomas! I wonder they were not all starved to death, exposed as they were to the cold of two January nights.

It was indeed surprising, Harry, that any of them escaped. Some of them were nearly destitute of clothing. I told you of one of the passengers who was all but naked, and the woman who escaped passed the time on the rock with only her night-dress and a small handkerchief to cover her.

The other wreck, of which I promised to tell you this evening, is that of the Forfarshire, also a steamer, which sailed between Hull and Dundee. She left Hull on the evening of Wednesday, September 5th, 1838, having on board a valuable cargo, and upwards of forty passengers. Her crew consisted of twenty-one persons; the captain's wife accompanied him on the voyage.

The Forfarshire had not proceeded far when a leak was discovered in the boiler. This rendered it necessary to extinguish two of the fires, which were, however, relighted when the boiler had been partially repaired. The vessel continued her course until the following evening, by which time she had proceeded as far as Berwick Bay, when the leak again appeared. It had now become so great, that the greatest difficulty was experienced in keeping the boilers filled, the water escaping through the leak as fast as it was pumped in. The wind was blowing strong and the sea running high, and the leak increased so much from the motion of the vessel, that the fires were extinguished, and the engines, of course, became entirely useless. It was now about ten o'clock at night, and they were off St. Abbs' Head, a bold promontory on the Scottish coast. There being great danger of drifting ashore, the sails were hoisted fore and aft, and the vessel put about in order to get her before the wind, and keep her off the land. She soon became unmanageable, and the tide setting strong to the south, she proceeded in that direction. It rained heavily during the whole time, and the fog was so dense that it became impossible to tell the situation of the vessel. At length breakers were discovered close to leeward, and the Ferne Lights, which about the same period became visible, put an end to all doubt as to the imminent peril of the unfortunate vessel. An attempt was made to run her between the Ferne Islands, but she refused to obey the helm, and at three o'clock on Friday morning, she struck with tremendous force against the outer or Longstone Island.

At the moment the vessel struck, most of the passengers were below, and many of them asleep in their berths. One, alarmed by the shock, started up, and seizing his trousers only, rushed upon deck. When he reached it, he found everything in confusion, and seeing part of the crew hoisting out a boat, he sprang into it. The raging of the sea instantly separated it from the vessel, and though several of the other passengers attempted to reach it, they were unsuccessful, and perished in the attempt. The boat itself escaped by something little short of a miracle. There was but one outlet by which it could avoid being dashed in pieces on the breakers by which it was surrounded. This outlet it providentially took without its crew being aware of it; and after being exposed to the storm all night, it was picked up by a sloop and carried into Shields.