The Missing Ship: The Log of the "Ouzel" Galley

by William Henry Giles Kingston

The carpenter and his crew were not long in getting all things ready. Four rollers were placed under one of the guns, and a party were told off to take charge of four others, while the rest of the crew laid hold of the towlines. The boatswain sounded his whistle, and off they set. It was pretty hard work to draw a heavy gun over the soft sand, but British seamen are not to be defeated when they put their shoulders to an undertaking. The gun was started amid cheers from the crew, and it began to move forward faster and faster. The moment one roller was released it was carried ahead, and at length the gun was dragged up to hard ground. Now, however, the tug of war began. Though the ground was hard, it was rough and uphill; but the inequalities were cleared away, and the gun was got some distance up the bank. It became evident, however, at length that the whole strength of the crew would be required to get it up to the site of the fort, and the lieutenant ordered the men to knock off, and to bring another gun up. This was soon done in the same fashion. The seamen enjoyed the work as if it had been given to them as an amusement.

Thus six guns which had been landed were got a part of the way towards their destination. Parties of men were next harnessed to the gun carriages, a boatswain’s mate or one of the other seamen seating himself on each—the former with pipe in mouth, and with a long stick in his hand, with which he pretended to drive his team, cheering and shouting in high glee. One of the carriages, however, as the men were running along with it, capsized and shot its occupant out sprawling on the sand, greatly to the amusement of his shipmates. It is wonderful what an amount of work can be got through by seamen when they are allowed to do it in their own way, and make an amusement of the severest labour.

It would still require the raft and boats to make very many trips before all the guns and provisions and stores could be landed. The commander wisely sent off a proportion of each, so that, should bad weather come on and the ship go to pieces, a certain amount of all things necessary might be saved. The weather, however, continued favourable, though the stormy period of the year had now come on. All the guns and provisions, and a considerable quantity of the stores, were at length landed. The carpenter had of course taken good care to bring his tools. He proposed building a vessel out of the wreck. The commander approved of his suggestion, and it was arranged that they should return the next day, and endeavour to procure timber sufficient for the purpose.

The commander had hitherto not left the ship. The last of the crew who had remained with him were sent into the boat. His own gig was alongside. With a heavy heart he hauled down the flag, which had hitherto been kept flying on a temporary flagstaff, secured to the stump of the foremast. After looking round his dismantled ship, he descended into the boat.

“Shove off,” he said, and his voice as he spoke appeared to have lost its usual cheerful ring.

He cast another fond look at her as she lay bilged on the cruel rocks. He had reason to be thankful that not a life had been lost, and that it was from no carelessness or want of good seamanship that she had been driven on shore. Had she struck one of the outer reefs, where would he and his gallant crew now be? Probably not one would have escaped. The sky as he looked westward had again assumed a threatening aspect.

“We shall have another gale before long, I suspect,” he observed to Gerald, who had brought the gig for him. “It may not do us on shore much harm, although it may blow down our tents if we don’t stay them up well, but the poor ship— I fear that her days are numbered. A heavy sea rolling in here would soon knock her to pieces. Give way, my lads, and overtake the raft; we may assist in towing it, and the sooner it reaches the shore the better.”

Fortunately by this time everything of value had been landed from the ship. The cabins had been stripped of their furniture, even to the bedding; the men’s hammocks, and every article belonging to them, had been brought off. There was an abundance of water, and there was no probability of their provisions running short for some time to come.

Scarcely had the boats and raft been unloaded and the stores carried up to the camp, than the sea began to roll in with much greater force than hitherto, and as the sun went down the white breakers appeared on every side, like horses’ manes waving in the wind, above the darkening waters. The commander was received with hearty cheers by his crew.

“Now, my lads,” he said, “I intend to turn this island into a man-of-war, and although we cannot get under way—for if we could we would soon run her up to Port Royal harbour—we will hold her against all enemies, whoever they may be, who may wish to make a prize of us. I intend to maintain the same discipline as heretofore, and I expect that you will still remain the well-ordered crew of whom I have always been proud.”