The wind rushing through the rigging so furiously, rendered all attempts to be heard fruitless.
The lightning's incessant flashing, accompanied by loud thunder, rendered our situation the most appalling. Each moment brought us nearer the rocks.
Our second mate, Mr. Anderson of England, lowered the larboard boat, with six men, (they were the Otahiteans, who eagerly rushed into the boat,) beside himself, which no sooner touched the water than they found a watery grave. Their shrieks were heard and moved our hearts to pity, but the hands that gladly would have rendered them assistance, were palsied. They were beyond our reach. We saw the waves sweep over them, as the wind moaned their requiem.
The anchor being let go served to swing the vessel around, head to the wind, and in some degree to check her progress.
This being considered a favorable moment, the captain instantly lowered away his boat with the remaining eight, (one having been lost overboard in the early part of the gale,) in safety. But we were only just in season, for a moment after the ship parted from her anchor, and rushed upon the rocks with a mighty crash.
So complete was the wreck that scarce one plank was left upon another.
We lay in the harbor from two o'clock, A. M. until day, keeping under the point for shelter from the blast, about a mile from where the vessel struck.