Four of them were black men, natives of the New Hebrides, the remaining two, whites. To my astonishment, I discovered in one of the latter an old friend of mine, a Mr. Thompson, whom I had often met in Queensland. He was a seafaring man, and at this time was acting as Government Agent on the labour schooner Myrtle. The boat they had come in was only 15 feet long, open, and with a square stern, in which they had travelled a distance of sixty miles, having had to row the whole way. They were a shipwrecked crew, and had left their vessel near Dawson Island for the purpose of obtaining assistance at Samarai. The captain of the Myrtle had remained on board, and had sent this, the only boat saved, on the above errand.
Having refreshed himself with food and offered a small sacrifice to his favourite god "Bacchus," Mr. Thompson gave us the following interesting particulars of their adventurous voyage:
The Myrtle, a labour schooner, commanded by I. Tornaros, an accomplished Greek, left Maryborough (Queensland) for the Solomon Islands on the 1st March. She had on board a Government Agent (Mr. Thompson), a mate and boatswain and a crew of six blacks. She also had six return islanders belonging to the Solomon Group.
She was a topsail schooner of 136 tons net register, heavily sparred and splendidly fitted up. Her commander had had a great many years' experience in the labour trade in the South Seas and was a first-class navigator.
March, it was be noted, is one of the three hurricane months in those regions, but it does not necessarily follow that a hurricane will occur in that month.
For a time everything went well; the weather was fairly good. We were speculating on the number of recruits we were likely to obtain, and the profits we would make by the voyage, but "L'homme propose et le Dieu dispose," and so it was exemplified on this occasion. To our surprise, the wind suddenly changed.
However, the glass did not show any sign of a coming storm. We held on our course as far as practicable, never dreaming for a moment what the future had in store for us.
The Myrtle was a strong, staunch vessel, and we had perfect confidence in the seamanship of her captain. The next day the wind veered again and the barometer had fallen considerably. Orders were at once given to shorten sail and prepare for the expected gale, but we did not realise that a terrible hurricane was so near at hand.
The wind soon increased to a gale, the barometer fell still lower; we were evidently in for a violent spell. The hatches were battened down; everything loose about the deck was made secure, the boats (four) were doubly lashed, and we stood prepared to do battle with the elements.
The captain now looked anxious, and fearing that we might be running into the jaws of a hurricane, altered the course of the vessel in order to escape from it.