The Three Admirals

by William Henry Giles Kingston

“Silence, fore and aft!” sang out the captain, as the harbour’s mouth was approached. All on board turned their eyes towards the white line of foam which stretched across it. Desmond pointed out to the helmsmen the exact spot for which they were to steer. He had not to give another order; no one spoke. The smooth water could be seen inside. Would the ship ever float on it?

Full steam was put on. Forward she glided like an arrow towards its mark. Already the outer barrier was reached where the water broke, hissing and foaming on either side. Onward she plunged; then there came a crash, her masts quivered, and all knew that the noble ship was devoted to destruction. A roller came sweeping on astern. It lifted her. Again she moved forward, but it was only to strike with greater force than before. Once more she floated on the buoyant water, but it was again to descend with a crash which was heard and felt from stem to stern, telling that the rocks had gone through her bottom. There she remained firmly fixed, her engines continuing to work until the rapidly rising water rushing in, put out the fires. The engineer, having thoughtfully turned off the steam to prevent the boilers from exploding, his duty done, appeared on deck to announce to the captain that the engines had stopped.

“I see that they have,” said Adair, smiling, even at the moment so sad to a captain who had just seen his ship wrecked. The vessel was evidently immovable, and even had the rollers come in with sufficient force to lift her, she must have sunk immediately in deep water. Crash succeeded crash, as the rocks burst through her planks, but not a cheek blanched, not an eye quailed, not a cry was heard, not a man deserted his station.

The rollers continued to tumble in, breaking close under her stem, but failed to wash over her. Adair stood earnestly watching for what would next take place. At last he was satisfied that the lives committed to his charge were safe.

“My lads,” he exclaimed, “our brave ship will never float again on the ocean; but you still form her crew, and whether on board or on shore, I am sure that you will exhibit the same good discipline you have hitherto maintained. We will now turn to again and get all we can out of her. We may be discovered and taken off in a few weeks, or we may have to remain months here. As we must be prepared for the latter alternative, we must husband our provisions and stores. I hear that the harbour is full of fish, and that there are goats on the island, and, what is of more consequence, that water is to be found, so that we need have no fear of starving. The rest all depends upon yourselves. We may be a very happy ship’s company if we make the best of everything, or we may become the contrary if we grumble and are discontented. I don’t expect that of you, and I’m sure we shall all work with a will and look at things on the bright side.”

The crew gave three hearty cheers, and Adair directing the first lieutenant to summon the boats alongside, all hands turned to in loading them with the numberless articles which still remained on board. The most valuable things had already been got out. By the doctor’s advice four main-deck tanks were landed, with the smith’s forge and other apparatus pertaining to his trade, that the engineers might manufacture a machine for turning salt water into fresh. The sails and ropes were also sent on shore, and indeed every article likely to prove of service which the ship contained. The captain and Desmond, with several of the principal officers, still remained on board, a careful watch being kept at night to give them due notice should a change of weather threaten and make it advisable for them to quit the ship.

Fortunately the weather continued fine and the wind mostly blew off the land, so that the boats were able to ply backwards and forwards all day long. One of the assistant-surgeons, who had only lately come to sea, declared that he should not have believed it possible that the ship could have contained the multitudinous articles he saw landed; he had no idea where they could all have been stowed away. In that latitude the winter was likely to prove severe, and as it was approaching, it was important not only to land stores and provisions, but to house the party comfortably.

For the latter purpose, Adair went on shore for the first time and laid down the plan of their town. It formed one long street, with blocks on either side, while a cross road ran at right angles with the main one. One block formed the barracks of the marines, another a hospital. The captain’s own house was at the top of the street, and opposite to it one for the lieutenants, another for the rest of the ward-room officers, and a third on their side of the way for the midshipmen. Then came rows of huts, eight on each side, for the seamen. Another was put up for the petty officers, the stokers had one for themselves, and the officers’ servants one. At the top of the street, so that it could be seen from the very bottom, was the officers’ mess tent, with flags flying over it, and a very tasty-looking affair it was. The walls were partly composed of stone, partly of turf, roofed over with canvas. The roof of Captain Adair’s house was also lined with canvas, as were the walls, and divided by partitions.

Some of the midshipmen expressed their regret that there were no ladies among them.

“The ladies are very much obliged to you,” observed Charley Roy, who had joined the Empress, and was now senior mate on board. “I suspect that they would rather remain comfortably on shore. Perhaps you’d like a grand piano, a ball-room, and a croquet lawn?”