That favourable opportunity, however, did not come; every sea that rolled up astern threatened to overwhelm her should he make the attempt.
The land appeared closer and closer. If the vessel was to be hove-to it must be done at once, in spite of all risks.
“Hold on, lads, for your lives!” cried Rayner, in English and French, setting the example by clinging to the larboard main rigging. “Now starboard the helm. Haul away on the larboard headbrace. Ease off the starboard.”
Oliver and Jack, who were at the helm, as they put it down prepared to lash it to starboard; but as the vessel came up to the wind, a fearful sea struck her, sweeping over her deck, carrying away the caboose and the whole of the bulwarks forward; at the same moment the foretopsail split as the other had done, and the canvas, after fluttering wildly in the blast, was whisked round and round the yard.
“Up with the helm!” cried Rayner.
Oliver and Jack, knowing what was necessary, were already putting it up. Before another sea struck the vessel she was again before the gale. Her only resource was now to anchor, should no port be discovered into which they could run.
The cable was accordingly ranged ready to let go at a moment’s notice; but Rayner and Oliver well knew that there was little hope of the anchor holding, or if it did, of the vessel living through the seas which would break over her as soon as her course was stopped. Still, desperate as was the chance, it must be tried. There might be time to set the foresail yet, and she might lay to under it.
The order was given to get the sail ready for setting as soon as she could be brought up to the wind. Again the helm was put down.
“Hoist away!” shouted Rayner.
But scarcely had the sail felt the wind than it was blown away to leeward, and another sea, even heavier than the first, struck the vessel, sweeping fore and aft over her deck.