Adrift in a Boat

by William Henry Giles Kingston

“Fortunately, we haven’t eaten up all the good things, Harry,” exclaimed Mr Sowton, dragging the midshipman, nothing loth, to the well-spread cloth. “Now open your mouth, and Burnaby and I will try and feed you. What will you have first,—beef, or pudding, or a peach, or a tongue, or a cold chicken? Oh dear me, there is but a drumstick and a merrythought left. Which will you have? No! I see I am wrong again, the drumstick is in the dish, and the merrythought is in my head, with numerous companions. Does anybody wish to know what they are? I’ll fill my naval friend’s plate first with cold beef and mustard, and then inform you.” Thus the old gentleman ran on. He kept his word with regard to Harry, who very soon by diligent application caught up the rest of the party, and was able to commence on the tarts and peaches. All the gentlemen asked him to take wine, and the ladies were eager to hear his adventures. He briefly recounted them in an animated manner, for as he had been little more than a year at sea, everything he had seen and done had the freshness of novelty. He belonged to the gallant Arethusa frigate, which had put into Plymouth from a successful cruise in the Bay of Biscay, where, after capturing several minor prizes of considerable value, she had taken an enemy’s frigate of equal force. He had consequently got leave for a few days to come home and see his widowed mother. He was her only son; her husband had been an officer in the army, and was killed in battle; her daughter Jane could never be induced to leave her, but they had promised to send Harry on to the picnic after he had indulged them with a little of his society. He had come by a chance conveyance, knowing that he should be able to return with some of his friends.

In those days it was the custom to sit long after dinner, and even at a picnic people consumed a considerable amount of time round the cloth. At length, however, they got up and broke into separate parties. Some went in one direction, some in another. The elders were more inclined to sit still, or went only a little way up the cliff; but several of the grown-up young ladies and gentlemen climbed up by somewhat steep paths to the downs above. The younger ones, the tide being low, very naturally preferred scrambling out on the rocks in search of sea-anemones, and other marine curiosities. There were numerous projecting rocks forming small bays in the large bay, and thus completely hiding the different parties from each other. No two boys could have had a more sincere regard for each other than had David Moreton and Harry Merryweather. David was longing to go to sea with Harry, but his father was greatly averse to his going. He was the eldest son, and heir to a large property. As the boys had been separated for so long a time (long in their lives), they had a great deal to say to each other. They consequently strolled away, forgetting what Mary Rymer or the rest of their fair companions might have thought of their gallantry, in and out along the sands, round the points and over the rocks, till they had got to a considerable distance from the place where the picnic had been held. A dry rock, high above the water, which they could reach by going along a ledge connecting it with the mainland, tempted them to scramble out to it. There they chose a nice cosy, dry nook, where, sitting down, the water immediately around them was hidden from their sight. This circumstance must be remembered. It was very delightful. They had not yet said one-half of what they had got to say to each other, so they sat on talking eagerly, looking out seaward and watching the white sails which glided by coming up channel in the distant horizon. David was so delighted with the accounts Harry gave him, that he resolved to make a further attempt to induce his father to allow him to go to sea. It must be owned that Harry, full of life and happiness himself, had pictured only the bright side of everything. He had described the courage and determination to win with which he and his shipmates had gone into action, and the enthusiasm and delight they had felt on gaining the victory and capturing the prize; but he forgot to speak of the death of some cut down in their prime, and the wounds and sufferings of others, many maimed and crippled for life. Thus they talked on without marking how the time went by. Harry’s watch, which he had locked up carefully before going into action, had been destroyed by a shot which had knocked the desk and everything in it to pieces; and David had forgotten to wind his up. Suddenly it occurred to them that the sun was getting very low, and that it was high time for them to return.

They jumped up to scramble back over the rock, but no sooner had they done so than Harry cried out, “We are caught!” and David exclaimed, “The tide has risen tremendously, how shall we get to the shore?”

“Swim there,” answered Harry; “I see no other way. If we were to shout ever so loud we should not be heard, and I do not suppose any one knows where we are.” By this time they had got to the inner end of the rock, where they found that the distance between them and the shore was not only considerable, but that a strong current swept round the rock, and that though before the sea had been calm, it had got up somewhat, and caused a surf to break on the shore. What was to be done? David was a first-rate swimmer, and would not have had much difficulty by himself in stemming the current, and landing through the surf; but Harry, though a sailor, had not learned that art before he went to sea, and could swim very little. It is extraordinary how many sailors in those days could not swim, and lost their lives in consequence. They stood looking at the foaming, swirling waters, not knowing what to do.

“I would try it,” said Harry at length, “but I am afraid if I were to give in that I should drown you as well as myself.”

“I think that I might support you, and we should drift in somewhere a little further down, perhaps,” said David.

“Much more likely that we should be swept out to sea,” answered Harry. “No, no, David, that will never do. You can swim on shore before the surf gets heavier, and your father or Captain Rymer will send a boat for me very soon.”

“But these are spring tides, and if the sea gets up at all, it will soon wash right over this rock,” said David.

“The more reason for you to hurry to get a boat from the yachts,” observed the midshipman.

While they were speaking, they observed the two yachts, which had hitherto been hid by a point of land, standing out to sea. They had come from the east with a fine northerly smooth water breeze, but the wind had drawn off shore to the east, and as the tide was at flood running up channel, the vessels had stood off shore to get the full strength of it. This the boys at once understood, but how they should have gone off without them was the puzzle. Matters were growing serious. Even should David reach the shore, he might not find a boat, and it was a long way he feared from any house where he could get help, so that Harry might be lost before he could get back. They retraced their steps to the highest part of the rock, and waved and shouted, even though they knew that their voices could not be heard, but the yachts stood on at some distance from each other; it should be remarked, Captain Rymer’s leading. It was evident that they were not seen. The hot tide came rushing in, rising higher and higher. Both the boys became very anxious, David more on his friend’s account than his own. So many persons have lost their lives much in the same way, that it seemed probable the two boys would lose theirs.