I told the Captain we were close in upon the Irish shore. With a sneering laugh he replied, "We are far enough from Ireland, and we must still haul our course a little to the westward."
I turned away and went forward, biting my lips through indignation at his proceedings. Knowing him to be a skillful navigator, I immediately made up my mind that it was his intention to run the ship upon the rocks, regardless of his own life and also the lives of his crew and passengers, in order to get the insurance, as she was insured for double her real value. Putting a man on the lookout, I went aft again and told the captain we should be on the rocks in a few moments, if the ship was not hauled to the eastward. He forced a smile, and attempted to laugh me out of the idea I held with respect to our situation. I told him it was his privilege to laugh if he chose, but it would be no laughing affair for the crew and passengers to go on the rocks, as we certainly should, unless we stood to the eastward.
At that moment, he seeing a little light on our starboard bow, exclaimed:
"All right! Port Patrick light; we must haul to the westward!"
Seeing it was a revolving one, I knew it to be the South Rock light, and told him she would strike in fifteen minutes. In a moment I saw the little harbor lights called St. Johns light, on our larboard bow, situated at the entrance of Port-au-Ferry Lough. I ran forward, and could see through the fog, which was breaking up a little, land and breakers right ahead.—Upon my own responsibility I immediately ordered the yards to be braced up and the helm put hard to port.
The ship came to and ranging ahead, in a moment would have cleared the point, had not a heavy sea struck her starboard bow and deadened her headway; her keel struck upon the rock, the sails caught aback, and swung her bows around upon her keel with great force.
She rested with each end on a reef, and as the tide left her, she careened and twirled over, thus giving the surf still greater effect upon her. At this unfavorable moment the captain ordered the sails to be clewed up. I knowing the great danger that would arise from it, told the men to look out for themselves first. I had hardly ceased speaking when a sea washed over her decks, sweeping upwards of twenty of the crew into the sea!
Those that were aft—seven of us—were saved. The screams of the passengers, who were all fast below, were beyond conception. They were set on deck to act for themselves.
Daylight came, and we were seen from the shore, (we went upon the rock about two o'clock, having been there a little over two hours,) but they dare not attempt our rescue, as the sea ran very high. Twenty-three of the bodies of those lost were seen washing about, and beating against the ship's side.
Again a heavy sea struck her, and carried away the boats from the fore part of the poop, with all my articles of value, except a few instruments of navigation; and I almost cursed the day I went aboard the Ashburton. But when I saw the mangled, headless bodies of the sailors beating about against the rocks, my loss sank into insignificance.