Dick Cheveley: His Adventures and Misadventures

by William Henry Giles Kingston

With difficulty I could restrain myself from drinking the sea-water. I was well aware of the danger of doing so, and resisted the temptation. At last, as I was looking up, I felt a drop fall on my face. It was not the spray of the sea. Another and another followed, and down came a copious shower. I opened my mouth, at the same time holding out my cap to the rain, hoping to get a little in it. I got but little, so I placed it on the rock and spread it open. I then took off my jacket, and held it out that it might be well wetted.

I hoped also to find some hollow in the rock that might be rilled with fresh water. The rain came down, as it does in the tropics, in a perfect deluge. My jacket was wet through in a minute, and I was able to wring out of it a sufficient amount of fresh water to quench my burning thirst. After this I was able to eat some biscuits. It should be remembered that the tide reaches its height nearly three-quarters of an hour later every day. I watched with intense anxiety its rising this afternoon. Now it entirely covered the rocks where I had landed, then those over which I had made my way were concealed from view, and now it reached the base of the beacon-rock itself, against which the seas began to break with a fury surpassing that of the previous day.

The spot on which I had been standing one minute was the next covered by the seething waters, when I retired to a higher level. Again and again a wave broke over the rock, and striking one of the almost perpendicular sides flew high into the air above my head. Every moment my hope of escape was becoming less and less. I cried to heaven for mercy. As I saw death drawing near, the desire to live increased. It seemed so terrible to have to die all alone away from friends and country.

At last I was driven to the very foot of the beacon, and I clutched it as if it alone could afford me protection. I knew that I could not for a single moment stand upon the rock with the sea breaking over it, but the beacon itself withstood the furious waves. I had not as yet thought of climbing to it to see how it was fixed, but I now did so with intense anxiety. I found that the staff was of hard oak, and that it had been imbedded in a deep hole formed by art in the rock, and further secured by iron bars driven into it, and fastened round by iron hoops. This gave me some hopes that it would stand the fury of the seas should they rise high enough to strike it. That they would do this seemed every moment more probable.

On every side around me they tossed and foamed and roared, as if eager to seize me. I frantically clutched the pole, which, from its size, I could with difficulty embrace. Even now, though my chance of escape seemed small indeed, I did not abandon all hope. A small line hung down through the bottom of the cask. I tried its strength. It would enable me, I found, to mount upwards, but I was unwilling to make the attempt, as I could not tell whether the cask was fixed securely enough to bear my weight. There I stood, my arms round the pole, clutching the rope with my hands, and awaiting my fate. That that ere long would come I was fully convinced.

Though sea after sea broke on the rock, none actually touched me, though my feet occasionally were washed by the foam. To my surprise, and contrary to all my expectations, though the seas raged round me as fiercely as ever, the water sank, and as the sea rolled up it struck a lower level of the rock, and I began to hope once more that I should escape. Then I recollected that if the tides had not yet reached their extreme height, or the spring tides had not come on, the next day might prove fatal. Though the water had receded, I dare not leave the beacon-post, and kept clinging to it as my only comfort and friend. At length weary I sank down to rest, still grasping it in my arms. Thus hours passed away, even now too painful to think of. I ate the remainder of the biscuit, and then fell into a heavy slumber, which must have lasted many hours. I awoke to find that it was night, and that the tide was once more rising, as I knew by hearing the seas breaking on the rocks close to me. Already I was covered by the spray, which flew in showers over me. Had I slept on much longer I must have been swept away, and awakened only to find myself in the cruel grasp of the relentless waves. I might, however, now never see another sunrise. I prayed as I had never prayed before, and resolved to struggle to the last for life.

Few have been placed in a more perilous position and escaped. I had the stout beacon to cling to. It had probably stood many a storm, but would it stand fast now? To that I held fast as before, but I feared that my strength would fail me, and that I might be torn away from it. I looked up at the cask above my head, wondering whether that would afford me an asylum I was unwilling, however, to exhaust my strength by attempting to climb the post. With increasing force the waves beat on the rock. Again and again it trembled from their blows, though I fancied, and almost expected, to find it washed away beneath my feet. I was wet through, and blinded by the spray. As I cleared my eyes, I could discern through the darkness the seas dancing up level with the rock on which I stood. Some appeared, as they rolled on meeting with no impediment, to be much higher. Then I saw one coming roaring and hissing along towards me. It broke with fearful force, and rushed over the rock higher than my knees.

Had I not been firmly grasping the beacon-post, I should have been carried off my legs and washed helplessly away. I shrieked with terror as I saw another coming higher than the last. My cries were echoed by those of the wild sea-birds passing above. The foaming sea broke, and as I drew myself up the post, I found my legs floating behind me. A moment later, and my doom would have been sealed. I got up higher and higher. Now, as I looked down, I saw that I was surrounded by a tumultuous ocean, without a particle of rock on which to place the soles of my feet. I knew that all depended on my strength holding out. The beacon might stand fast, but I might be torn away. Had it been daylight I might better have endured the horrible position in which I was placed, but at night to be thus all alone, with the hungry waves leaping up and striving to snatch me from my holdfast, was truly dreadful.

I wonder my senses did not give way. Sometimes I thought that it was only a dream, but I then knew it to be a fearful reality. With arms and legs clinging round the post, and my hands clutching the rope as I had never clutched rope before, I hung on. I was almost afraid to climb higher, lest my muscles failing me for a moment I should lose my grasp, and yet the cask was only a few feet above me. Suddenly I recollected that on board whalers casks are placed in the same manner as that was at the masthead, in order that the officers, protected in some degree, may in that position obtain a wide extended view in search of whales, and that they enter by a trap-door in the bottom. Should this beacon possess such a trap, I might get through it and obtain shelter and rest. But again a doubt crossed my mind whether I could climb up even thus far, without the risk of sliding down again into the sea.

I looked down to see if the tide was once more receding, but the waves seemed still to be rising higher and higher. Some of their foam even sometimes now touched my feet as they swept over the rock. They might even cover the beacon itself; and if so, no human power could save me. After remaining quiet for some time, I felt as if I possessed sufficient strength, and resolved to make the attempt. With legs and arms and hands I worked my way up. I would have clung with my teeth to the rope could I have seized it. I was within a foot of the bottom of the cask, when I felt so exhausted that I thought I could get no higher. I looked down on the raging sea and then up at the only place which could afford me shelter. In the darkness I could not see whether or not there was a trap, and if there were one perhaps I might not be able to force it open, and, exhausted by the effort, might drop into the water. I dreaded the risk, but it must be run.