Some of our crew being rather superstitious, fancied they heard groans and deep sighs, when we were in the vicinity of the scene of the above related horrible transaction. So firmly was the belief established in their minds, that nothing could dissuade them from it, and often would they mention it as an actual occurrence.
In this situation we passed another night, hoping that the morning would bring relief. Our hopes were not realized, but quite to the contrary, for the gale increased instead of abating. All hands were called to close-reef the main-top-sail, the pumps were obliged to be kept in constant operation, there having been seven feet of water in the hold since the first commencement of the gale.
A heavy sea struck the ship and spun the wheel at which I was stationed, rapidly around, the spokes of it caught me under the jacket, throwing me heels over head and thrusting me head foremost through a partition of stout panel-work, which left me senseless for a moment. The captain being near caught the wheel and prevented the ship from broaching to, which it must have done and perhaps to our entire loss, had not timely assistance been offered.
I was carried below, my shoulder bathed and placed in a sling—after the pain had subsided somewhat, I went to the pumps, working with one hand, thus relieving one man who could render assistance elsewhere. There I remained three days and two nights with but little cessation, when at the expiration of this time the gale abated. We saw the Skelligo light on the coast of Ireland and in a few hours we were safely in the mouth of the river Shannon, which is navigated by large ships 200 miles.
Here we took pilot and made sail up the river. Soon we were land-locked and could make no progress. All hands were called to bend a fore-top-sail, and while bending it, the pilot spoke, saying, "we are in the Killserphine!" the captain replied that "it was not the season for it to break." This was no sooner said, than a noise was heard like distant thunder, which caused all hands to look for its cause, when to our surprise we saw a heavy sea rolling half mast high, and coming directly towards us.
The captain in agony of mind exclaimed, "My God! we are all lost!"
The sea struck us, washing one of the men from the wheel, and filling the decks with water, but doing no damage save carrying away the carved work on the stern and the starboard quarter boat. This was followed by one of less magnitude scarcely washing the deck. The third one beat lightly against the stern.
This occasioned much surprise among the crew, for many of them knew not what it meant, having never before heard of such a place.
Upon inquiry respecting it, I was informed by an Irishman, over whose head 90 winters, which he recollects, have passed, that once there was an island in the Shannon on which was a castle and other buildings, and that by the workings of nature that island gradually sunk away, until it disappeared entirely, and now each year the soundings are found to vary, there yet being a gradual sinking of the river's bottom. The water is now 11 or 12 fathoms deep.