At 8 P.M. we weighed both and proceeded to execute the duty required of us. I had the first watch: there was a very heavy sea running, and the wind being on our starboard quarter, I had to take great care that the ship did not get into the trough of the waves, in which case she would not have answered to her helm.
About 11.30 course was altered, bringing wind and sea dead on our beam, and the ship's head had to be continually brought up to meet the waves.
However, nothing untoward occurred, and at midnight I was relieved by the Gunner. As on the previous night, the violent motion effectually prevented me from sleeping, and at 4 A.M. I had to go on watch again. Then I found that we were already on our homeward course.
The ship was steering very badly, and in order to keep her on her course the port engine had to be kept dead slow, which greatly reduced our speed. When I had been on the bridge for about half an hour the steering-gear broke down altogether, which involved conning by engines alone. With starboard going full ahead, and port slow astern, she would hardly swing through a degree. I sent for an E.R.A. (engine-room artificer) to endeavour to repair the steering-gear, and, through the voice-pipe, informed the Captain, who was sleeping in the chart-house, of the state of affairs. Owing to the violence of the storm we were making considerable leeway, and being unable to keep within 20° of our course, were carried some distance to eastward.
At dawn, the steering-gear having been repaired, we were able to again make headway in the right direction, and the Captain now tried to work out our position by dead reckoning. This was a very difficult job, as there was no possible means of ascertaining how far we had drifted from our course. However, he proved himself a highly skilled navigator, for, although the land was completely obscured by heavy rain squalls, at 11 A.M. we exactly hit off the buoy which marks the entrance to the Channel.
Owing to the fury of wind and waves we had sustained considerable damage. The stout iron stanchions supporting the engine-room hatch were bent; the port foremost Berthon boat had broken adrift from its securing chains; several ventilators had been unshipped, and every one of our fenders had been swept overboard. But by 1.30 P.M. we were safely secured alongside Boat House Jetty, and one watch proceeded on leave.
I had to remain in charge on board, but dined with the Gunner of P——, which was lying alongside. He was an old friend, as he had been in charge of the cadets at Dartmouth during the one term I spent there.
A week later, the boiler-cleaning being finished and the damage aforementioned having been made good, we were once more ready for sea, and in due course received sailing orders....