MR. E. S. HODGSON, WHO FELL FROM THE MAST OF A SHIP TO THE DECK BELOW, A DISTANCE OF OVER A HUNDRED FEET.
From a Photograph.
“All hands on deck,” was the order one bleak, dark night when a sudden blustering gale arose, and Mr. Hodgson, with the rest of the crew who were keeping their watch below, tumbled up, none too pleased at the prospect of a night on deck instead of in their bunks.
“Jump up there, my lad, and make fast the fore-royal,” was the skipper’s order to our artist.
“Aye, aye, sir,” he replied, as he made for the foot of the shrouds. The gale was blowing at a terrific rate, causing the ship to plunge and roll heavily, and Mr. Hodgson’s task would have been a dangerous one even for a much more experienced sailor. The order had been given, however, and up he had to go.
It was a perilous journey up into the blackness of the night, and he had literally to feel his way rope by rope, hanging on by hands and toes. The oscillation of the ship was so violent that he expected every moment to be flung into the sea, while the thudding of the clewed-up sails threatened to carry the masts overboard. Higher and higher he climbed until he reached the top-gallant rigging, where the fury of the gale literally pinned him to the ropes, but at length he managed to crawl out on to the yard. The foot-ropes were shallow, making it necessary for him to kneel on them, but once out on the yard Mr. Hodgson applied himself to the work of securing the sail with all possible speed, a task which the pitch-darkness of the night and the plunging of the ship rendered one of extreme difficulty, perched as he was over a hundred feet above the level of the deck. He had bent over to gather the madly-slatting canvas when suddenly it bellied up over the yard and bore him irresistibly backwards with it. In a flash he saw his danger and, with a frantic clutch, tried to grasp the sail—missed it—and realized that he was falling! The accident had happened so suddenly that for the moment he was unconscious of the full extent of his peril; his brain was unable to take in the terrible significance of what had occurred, and the situation seemed unreal—a passing freak of the imagination that would presently be dispelled. Then the blackness seemed to lessen slightly and, coming slowly towards him, he could see the top-gallant yard and the men on it busy furling the sail. Mr. Hodgson says the sensation he experienced was that of floating easily and gently in the air; he did not seem to be actually falling. Next the upper topsail yard appeared to pass him, brushing gently by him on its way “up.” Then, with a vague sense of wonder, he noticed that he could make out clearly all the details of the deck, which seemed to be rushing up towards him with a gigantic leap. At once, as his brain cleared, the appalling truth dawned on him that he was falling down, down, through the darkness, and with a feeling of unutterable horror he realized that, powerless to help himself, he must, in the course of the next few seconds, be dashed to his death on the deck, or to an equally certain fate in the roaring seas alongside.
The various objects now began to lose their shape and the darkness closed in again; then came oblivion, for, mercifully, Mr. Hodgson lost consciousness before he reached the deck.
“Poor laddie! I doot he’s gone. This will be sore news to send home.” This remark, coming to him as though from far away, was Mr. Hodgson’s first intimation that he was still alive. He recognised the skipper’s voice, and, opening his eyes, discovered that he was lying on the deck, surrounded by the entire ship’s crew, with the captain bending over him. He was in such frightful agony, however, that he promptly fainted away again, and did not recover consciousness for a week. He then found out that his leg was fractured in three places, and as the ship was three weeks’ journey from the nearest port, and there was no doctor on board, Mr. Hodgson experienced a long period of excruciating agony, and, in fact, thought that he was dying.
