Chapter 10

1807, September.

Wednesday, 2d.

First mode of attaching the vessels to their moorings.

The floating-light’s bell rung this morning at half-past 4 o’clock, as a signal for the boats to be got ready, and the landing took place at half-past 5. In passing the Smeaton, at her moorings near the rock, her boat followed with eight additional artificers who had come from Arbroath with her at last trip, but there being no room for them in the floating-light’s boats, they had continued on board. The weather did not look very promising in the morning, the wind blowing pretty fresh from W.SW.; and had it not been that the writer calculated upon having a vessel so much at command, in all probability he would not have ventured to land. The Smeaton rode at what sailors call asalvagee, with a cross-head made fast to the floating-buoy. This kind of attachment was found to be more convenient, than the mode of passing the hawser through the ring of the buoy, when the vessel was to be made fast. She had then only to be steered very close to the buoy, when the salvagee was laid hold of with a boat-hook, and thebiteof the hawser thrown over the cross-head, instead of being obliged to put out the boat, in order to pass the rope through the ring of the buoy. But the salvagee, by this method, was always left at the buoy, and was, of course, more liable to chaff and wear than a hawser passed through the ring, which could be wattled with canvas, and shifted at pleasure. The salvagee and cross method is, however, much practised; but the experience of this morning showed it to be very unsuitable for vessels riding in an exposed situation, for any length of time.

Smeaton breaks adrift from her moorings.

Soon after the artificers landed, they commenced work; but the wind coming to blow hard, the Smeaton’s boat and crew, who had brought their complement of eight men to the rock, went off to examine her riding ropes, and see that they were in proper order. The boat had no sooner reached the vessel than she went adrift, carrying the boat along with her, and both had even got to a considerable distance before this situation of things was observed, every one being so intent upon his own particular duty, that the boat had not been seen leaving the rock. As it blew hard, the crew with much difficulty set the mainsail upon the Smeaton, with a view to work her up to the buoy, and again lay hold of the moorings. By the time that she was got round to make a tack towards the rock, she had drifted at least three miles to leeward, with the praam-boat astern; and having both the wind and a tide against her, the writer perceived, with no little anxiety, that she could not possibly return to the rock till long after its being overflowed; for, owing to the anomaly of the tides formerly noticed, the Bell Rock is completely under water before the ebb abates to the offing.

Perilous situation of those left on the Rock.

In this perilous predicament, indeed, he found himself placed between hope and despair,—but certainly the latter was by much the most predominant feeling of his mind,—situate upon a sunken rock in the middle of the ocean, which, in the progress of the flood-tide, was to be laid under water to the depth of at least twelve feet in a stormy sea. There were this morning thirty-two persons in all upon the rock, with only two boats, whose complement, even in good weather, did not exceed twenty-four sitters; but, to row to the floating-light with so much wind, and in so heavy a sea, a complement of eight men for each boat, was as much as could, with propriety, be attempted, so that, in this way, about one-half of our number was unprovided for. Under these circumstances, had the writer ventured to dispatch one of the boats in expectation of either working the Smeaton sooner up towards the rock, or in hopes of getting her boat brought to our assistance, this must have given an immediate alarm to the artificers, each of whom would have insisted upon taking to his own boat, and leaving the eight artificers belonging to the Smeaton to their chance. Of course, a scuffle might have ensued, and it is hard to say, in the ardour of men contending for life, where it might have ended. It has even been hinted to the writer, that a party of thepickmenwere determined to keep exclusively to their own boat against all hazards.

The unfortunate circumstance of the Smeaton and her boat having drifted, was, for a considerable time, only known to the writer, and to the landing-master, who removed to the farther point of the rock, where he kept his eye steadily upon the progress of the vessel. While the artificers were at work, chiefly in sitting or kneeling postures, excavating the rock, or boring with the jumpers, and while their numerous hammers, and the sound of the smith’s anvil continued, the situation of things did not appear so awful. In this state of suspense, with almost certain destruction at hand, the water began to rise upon those who were at work on the lower parts of the sites of the Beacon and Light-house. From the run of sea upon the rock, the forge fire was also sooner extinguished this morning than usual, and the volumes of smoke having ceased, objects in every direction became visible from all parts of the rock. After having had about three hours work, the men began, pretty generally, to make towards their respective boats for their jackets and stockings, when, to their astonishment, instead of three, they found only two boats, the third being adrift with the Smeaton. Not a word was uttered by any one, but all appeared to be silently calculating their numbers, and looking to each other with evident marks of perplexitydepicted in their countenances. The landing-master, conceiving that blame might be attached to him for allowing the boat to leave the rock, still kept at a distance. At this critical moment, the author was standing upon an elevated part of Smith’s Ledge, where he endeavoured to mark the progress of the Smeaton, not a little surprised that her crew did not cut the praam adrift, which greatly retarded her way, and amazed that some effort was not making to bring at least the boat, and attempt our relief. The workmen looked steadfastly upon the writer, and turned occasionally towards the vessel, still far to leeward. All this passed in the most perfect silence, and the melancholy solemnity of the group made an impression never to be effaced from his mind.

Pilot boat accidentally comes to our relief.

The writer had all along been considering of various schemes,—providing the men could be kept under command,—which might be put in practice for the general safety, in hopes that the Smeaton might be able to pick up the boats to leeward, when they were obliged to leave the rock. He was, accordingly, about to address the artificers on the perilous nature of their circumstances, and to propose, That all hands should unstrip their upper clothing, when the higher parts of the rock were laid under water; that the seamen should remove every unnecessary weight and encumbrance from the boats; that a specified number of men should go into each boat, and that the remainder should hang by the gunwales, while the boats were to be rowed gently towards the Smeaton, as the course to the Pharos or floating-light lay rather to windward of the rock. But when he attempted to speak, his mouth was so parched, that his tongue refused utterance, and he now learned by experience that the saliva is as necessary as the tongue itself for speech. He then turned to one of the pools on the rock and lapped a little water, which produced immediate relief. But what was his happiness, when, on rising from this unpleasant beverage, some one called out “A boat, a boat!” and, on looking around, at no great distance, a large boat was seen through the haze making towards the rock. This at once enlivened and rejoiced every heart. The timeous visitor proved to be James Spink, the Bell Rock pilot, who had come express from Arbroath with letters. Spink had, for some time, seen the Smeaton, and had even supposed, from the state of the weather, that all hands were on board of her, till he approached more nearly, and observed people upon the rock; but not supposing that the assistance of his boat was necessary to carry the artificers off the rock, he anchored on the lee-side and began to fish, waiting, as usual, till the letters were sent for,as the pilot-boat was too large and unwieldy for approaching the rock, when there was any roughness or run of the sea at the entrance of the landing creeks.

The boats have a rough passage from the rock.

Upon this fortunate change of circumstances, sixteen of the artificers were sent, at two trips, in one of the boats, with instructions for Spink to proceed with them to the floating-light. This being accomplished, the remaining sixteen followed in the two boats belonging to the service of the rock. Every one felt the most perfect happiness at leaving the Bell Rock this morning, though a very hard and even dangerous passage to the floating-light still awaited us, as the wind, by this time, had encreased to a pretty hard gale, accompanied with a considerable swell of sea. The boats left the rock about 9, but did not reach the vessel till 12 o’clock noon, after a most disagreeable and fatiguing passage of three hours. Every one was as completely drenched in water as if he had been dragged astern of the boats. The writer in particular, being at the helm, found, on getting on board, that his face and ears were completely coated with a thin film of salt from the sea spray, which broke constantly over the bows of the boat. After much baling of water and severe work at the oars, the three boats reached the floating-light, where some new difficulties occurred in getting on board in safety, owing partly to the exhausted state of the men, and partly to the violent rolling of the vessel.

Smeaton bears away for Arbroath.

As the tide flowed, it was expected that the Smeaton would have got to windward, but, seeing that all was safe, after tacking for several hours, and making little progress, she bore away for Arbroath, with the praam boat. As there was now too much wind for the pilot-boat to return to Arbroath, she was made fast astern of the floating-light, and the crew remained on board till next day, when the weather moderated. There can be very little doubt, that the appearance of James Spink with his boat, on this critical occasion, was the means of preventing the loss of lives at the rock this morning. When these circumstances, some years afterwards, came to the knowledge of the Board, a small pension was ordered to our faithful pilot, then in his seventieth year; and he still continues to wear the uniform clothes and badge of the Light-house service.

Indispensable utility of the Beacon-house.

The experience of this day’s hard passage to the floating-light strongly impressed the writer with the inconveniency and danger arising from the want of a proper tender, which could be cast loose at pleasure, and broughtto the lee-side of the rock, and could, at all times, be moored nearer than it would have been safe or proper to have risked a vessel of the description of the floating-light. Another circumstance, no less deeply interesting to the safety of those on the rock, was the erection of the beacon-house, as a place of refuge in cases like the present. Here the writer could not help congratulating himself not only upon the near prospect of completing this work, but also on the perseverance with which he had maintained the indispensable necessity of the erection of the beacon. He was aware of the well grounded fears for the safety of all concerned, in the event of its being washed away by the sea; but, without such an erection on the Bell Rock, it is impossible to describe the continual hazard which must have attended the undertaking, or to determine the period when works so peculiarly situate, and especially so low in the water, might have been brought to a conclusion.

Thursday, 3d.

Eighteen of the artificers decline embarking for the rock.

The bell rung this morning at 5 o’clock, but the writer must acknowledge, from the circumstances of yesterday, that its sound was extremely unwelcome. This appears also to have been the feelings of the artificers, for when they came to be mustered, out of twenty-six, only eight, besides the foreman and seamen, appeared upon deck, to accompany the writer to the rock. Such are the baneful effects of any thing like misfortune or accident connected with a work of this description. The use of argument to persuade the men to embark, in cases of this kind, would have been out of place, as it is not only discomfort, or even the risk of the loss of a limb, but life itself, that becomes the question.The boats proceed with eight.The boats, notwithstanding the thinness of our ranks, left the vessel at half-past 5. The rough weather of yesterday having proved but a summer’s gale, the wind came to-day in gentle breezes, yet the atmosphere being cloudy, it had not a very favourable appearance. The boats reached the rock at 6A. M., and the eight artificers who landed, were employed in clearing out the bat-holes for the beacon-house, and had a very prosperous tide of four hours work, being the longest yet experienced by half an hour.

The boats proceed with eight.

The boats left the rock again at 10 o’clock, and the weather having cleared up as we drew near the vessel, the eighteen artificers who had remained on board were observed upon deck; but as the boats approached, they sought their way below, being quite ashamed of their conduct. This was the only instance of refusal to go to the rock which occurredduring the whole progress of the work, excepting that of the four men who declined working upon Sunday, a case which the writer did not conceive to be at all analogous to the present. It may here be mentioned, much to the credit of these four men, that they stood foremost in embarking for the rock this morning. Indeed, it seemed quite evident, that the backwardness of the artificers to-day arose from certain doubting expressions about the state of the weather, made through the inadvertency of some of the nautical people on board, in allusion to the state of the weather of yesterday.

A second landing was made in the evening tide, at a quarter past 6, with twenty of the artificers, six having been left on board for want of sitting-room in the boats; but as the work was not carried on with torch-light, till after the erection of the beacon-house, the boats left the rock again at a quarter past 7, the men having been employed chiefly at the bat-holes of the beacon-house.

Friday, 4th.

All hands, twenty-six in number, landed this morning, having been assisted by the Smeaton’s boat, as she had again returned from Arbroath to her moorings at the rock. After three hours’ work, the boats returned to the Pharos at a quarter past 10, leaving eight hands on board the Smeaton, as formerly, which preserved a convenient complement of sitters in the other two boats.

Captain Pool’s account of the drifting of the Smeaton.

From the late accident of the Smeaton’s drifting, precautionary measures were taken to impress upon Captain Pool, and his mate Mr Macurich, that their ship was not once to be put in competition with the safety of the people on the rock. Orders were also more strictly enforced upon the landing-master, that on no occasion whatever should the boats attending the rock be permitted to leave it, without carrying along with them the complement of men which they respectively brought to the rock. Upon examining the master of the Smeaton as to the circumstances of his vessel breaking adrift, it appeared that the salvagee had been chaffed, and that it had given way by the excessive motion of the vessel. Being also examined as to his intentions with regard to the people left on the rock on the 2d instant, he stated, that, when tacking the ship, he had seen the Pilot-boat a considerable time before it was likely that she could be seen at the rock; and that he was just about to cut the praam adrift, when he got sight of the boat. After setting sail on the Smeaton, his intentions were to try atack or two, to see if she gained to windward, but if, on trial, she appeared to lose way, his intentions were to lash the helm to leeward, and leaving the boy on board of the vessel, he was to man the boat and make towards our relief. Captain Pool, in concluding his account of this matter, added, that “both ship and praam should have gone to the d——l, rather than that the people upon the rock should have been left to perish.” But he stated, that he was in much confusion for a time;—indeed, until he got sight of the pilot boat, that he was almost in a state of distraction, he and his ship’s company being in a continual wrangle about what was best to be done in so critical a situation. This accident put an end to the mode of riding at the Bell Rock floating buoys by a salvagee and cross-head, the hawser being in future passed through the ring of the buoy, and the end of it taken on board of the vessel; which was found to be much more safe, though not quite so expeditious as the other.

Saturday, 5th.

The wind having shifted to N.NW., the weather had a favourable appearance this morning. But on landing at the rock at 7A. M., there was a considerable swell from the eastward, so that the boats had some difficulty in approaching the eastern creek. The artificers, however, had a most excellent tide’s work, having continued four hours at work, or till 11 o’clock. The boring and preparations for the Beacon-house being nearly completed, only twelve of the artificers were employed at this work, while fourteen were excavating and preparing the site of the Light-house.

Ascertain the comparative level of the site of the building.

This being the third day after new moon, it was estimated the lowest ebb of the present spring-tides. The writer therefore caused a part of the site of the building to be reduced to what he considered a medium level of the whole. This he compared with low water-mark, as noted by the landing-master, at the moment when the tide ceased to ebb and began to flow. An assistant with a rod having been stationed at low water-mark previously determined, another was placed at the spot ascertained to be the medium level of the site of the building; a spirit-level was then set at a convenient position between these upright rods, when the writer found that the medium height of the site of the building, in the present rough and irregular state of its surface, was about three feet three inches above low water-mark of spring tides. By further observation, it was also found, that the highest part of the foundation of the building, in its present unprepared state, was six feet above low water-mark.This highest part consisted of a large rounded mass, which declined gradually on all sides, excepting on the north-east, where it was more abrupt. The writer had originally some thought of taking advantage of this part of the rock, by connecting it, after Mr Smeaton’s plan, with the lower courses of the building. But after working for some time, with this object in view, it was found to contain several large fissures, which rendered it more advisable to clear away the whole, and reduce the site of the building to a uniform level.

Full complement of Floating Buoys moored.

Finding it impossible, with any degree of safety, to carry to the floating-light, in the two boats belonging to this ship, more than eighteen artificers, and four seamen, together with the landing-master, the foreman and the writer, eight of the present complement of men were lodged on board of the Smeaton, and when she went to Arbroath for water and fuel, they necessarily accompanied her. Before sailing, she laid down a fourth mushroom-anchor, and mooring-chain, with a floating buoy, for the use of the praam-boat. It was not at all likely that there would be much use for so many sets of moorings for the operations of this season; but it was desirable to have the probable number laid down that might ultimately be required for the works, in order that the fitness of their respective situations might be ascertained, before they came to be wanted for the purposes of the building. This last buoy was laid down in four fathoms water, with twelve fathoms of chain, at the distance of about ninety fathoms, in a N.E. direction from the rock. The other three buoys were respectively moored at greater distances from the rock, in depths varying from seven to eleven fathoms, the mushroom anchors lying on a hard rocky bottom.

Floating-Light rides out a heavy gale of wind.

As before noticed, the work could not be carried on by torch-light with any degree of safety, till the Beacon was erected, and the tide fell rather late for landing this evening. Although the weather would have admitted of this, yet the swell of the sea, observable in the morning, still continued to increase. It was so far fortunate that a landing was not attempted, for at 8 o’clock the wind shifted to E. SE. and at 10 it had become a hard gale, when fifty fathoms of the floating-light’s hempen cable were veered out. The gale still increasing, the ship rolled and laboured excessively, and at midnight eighty fathoms of cable were veered out; while the sea continued to strike the vessel with a degree of force which had not before been experienced.

Sunday, 6th.

During the last night there was little rest on board of the Pharos, and day-light, though anxiously wished for, brought no relief, as the gale continued with unabated violence. The sea struck so hard upon the vessel’s bows, that it rose in great quantities, or in “green seas,” as the sailors termed it, which were carried by the wind as far aft as the quarter-deck, and not unfrequently over the stern of the ship altogether. It fell occasionally so heavily on the skylight of the writer’s cabin, though so far aft as to be within five feet of the helm, that the glass was broken to pieces before the dead-light could be got into its place, so that the water poured down in great quantities. In shutting out the water, the admission of light was prevented, and in the morning all continued in the most comfortless state of darkness. About 10 o’clockA. M., the wind shifted to NE., and blew, if possible, harder than before, and it was accompanied by a much heavier swell of sea; when it was judged advisable to give the ship more cable. In the course of the gale, the part of the cable in the hause-hole had been so often shifted, that nearly the whole length of one of her hempen cables, of 120 fathoms, had been veered out, besides the chain-moorings. The cable for its preservation, was also carefully served or wattled with pieces of canvass round the windlass, and with leather well greased in the hause-hole. In this state things remained during the whole day. Every sea which struck the vessel,—and the seas followed each other in close succession,—causing her to shake, and all on board occasionally to tremble. At each of these strokes of the sea, the rolling and pitching of the vessel ceased for a time, and her motion was felt as if she had either broke adrift before the wind, or were in the act of sinking; but when another sea came, she ranged up against it with great force, and this became the regular intimation of our being still riding at anchor.

State of the vessel during the gale.

About 11 o’clock, the writer, with some difficulty, got out of bed, but in attempting to dress, he was thrown twice upon the floor, at the opposite side of the cabin. In an undressed state, he made shift to get about half way up the companion-stairs, with an intention to observe the state of the sea and of the ship upon deck, but he no sooner looked over the companion, than a heavy sea struck the vessel, which fell on the quarter-deck, and rushed down stairs into the officers’ cabin, in so considerable a quantity, that it was found necessary to lift one of the scuttles in the floor, to let the water into the limbers of the ship, as it dashed from side to side in such a manner, as to run into the lower tier of beds.Having been foiled in this attempt, and being completely wetted, he again, got below and went to bed. In this state of the weather the seamen had to move about the necessary or indispensable duties of the ship, with the most cautious use both of hands and feet, while it required all the art of the landsman to keep within the precincts of his bed. The writer even found himself so much tossed about, that it became necessary, in some measure, to shut himself in bed, in order to avoid being thrown into the floor. Indeed, such was the motion of the ship, that it seemed wholly impracticable to remain in any other than a lying posture. On deck the most stormy aspect presented itself; while below all was wet and comfortless.

About 2 o’clockP. M., a great alarm was given throughout the ship, from the effects of a very heavy sea which struck her, and almost filled the waist, pouring down into the births below, through every chink and crevice of the hatches and sky-lights. From the motion of the vessel being thus suddenly deadened or checked, and from the flowing in of the water above, it is believed there was not an individual on board who did not think, at the moment, that the vessel had foundered, and was in the act of sinking. The writer could withstand this no longer, and as soon as she again began to range to the sea, he determined to make another effort to get upon deck. In the first instance, however, he groped his way in darkness from his own cabin through the births of the officers, where all was quietness. He next entered the galley and other compartments occupied by the artificers: here also all was shut up in darkness, the fire having been drowned out in the early part of the gale: several of the artificers were employed in prayer, repeating psalms, and other devotional exercises in a full tone of voice: others protesting, that if they should fortunately get once more on shore, no one should ever see them afloat again. With the assistance of the landing-master, the writer made his way holding on step by step, among the numerous impediments which lay in the way. Such was the creaking noise of the bulk-heads or partitions, the dashing of the water, and the whistling noise of the winds, that it was hardly possible to break in upon such a confusion of sounds. In one or two instances, anxious and repeated inquiries were made by the artificers, as to the state of things upon deck, to which the Captain made the usual answer, that it could not blow long in this way, and that we must soon have better weather. The next birth in succession, moving forward in the ship, was that allotted for the seamen. Here the scene was considerably different. Having reached the middle of this darksome birth, without its inmates being aware of any intrusion, thewriter had the consolation of remarking, that although they talked of bad weather, and the cross accidents of the sea, yet the conversation was carried on in that sort of tone and manner which bespoke an ease and composure of mind, highly creditable to them, and pleasing to him. The writer immediately accosted the seamen about the state of the ship. To these inquiries they replied, that the vessel being light, and having but little hold of the water, no top rigging, with excellent ground-tackle, and every thing being fresh and new, they felt perfect confidence in their situation.

It being impossible to open any of the hatches in the fore part of the ship, in communicating with the deck, the watch was changed by passing through the several births to the companion-stair leading to the quarter-deck. The writer, therefore, made the best of his way aft, and on a second attempt to look out, he succeeded, and saw indeed an astonishing sight. The seas, or waves, appeared to be ten or fifteen feet in height of unbroken water, and every approaching billow seemed as if it would overwhelm our vessel, but she continued to rise upon the waves, and to fall between the seas in a very wonderful manner. It seemed to be only those seas which caught her in the act of rising, which struck her with so much violence, and threw such quantities of water aft. On deck there was only one solitary individual looking out, to give the alarm, in the event of the ship breaking from her moorings. The seaman on watch continued only two hours; he who kept watch at this time, was a tall slender man of a black complexion; he had no great coat nor over-all of any kind, but was simply dressed in his ordinary jacket and trowsers: his hat was tied under his chin with a napkin, and he stood aft the foremast, to which he had lashed himself with a gasket or small rope round his waist, to prevent his falling upon deck, or being washed overboard. When the writer looked up, he appeared to smile, which afforded a farther symptom of the confidence of the crew in their ship. This person on the watch was as completely wetted as if he had been drawn through the sea, which was given as a reason for his not putting on a great coat, that he might wet as few of his clothes as possible, and have a dry shift when he went below. Upon deck, every thing that was moveable was out of sight, having either been stowed below, previous to the gale, or been washed overboard. Some trifling parts of the quarter boards were damaged by the breach of the sea; and one of the boats upondeck was about one-third full of water, the oyle-hole or drain having been accidentally stopped up,—and part of her gunwale had received considerable injury. These observations were hastily made, and not without occasionally shutting the companion, or covering up the stair-case, to avoid being wetted by the successive seas which broke over the bows, and fell upon different parts of the deck, according to the impetus with which the waves struck the vessel. By this time it was about 3 o’clock in the afternoon, and the gale, which had now continued with unabated force for 27 hours, had not the least appearance of going off.

Consultation about the probable event of her breaking adrift.

In the dismal prospect of undergoing another night like the last, and being in imminent hazard of parting from our cable, the writer thought it necessary to advise with the master and officers of the ship as to the probable event of the vessel’s drifting from her moorings. They severally gave it as their opinion, that we had now every chance of riding out the gale, which, in all probability, could not continue with the same fury many hours longer; and that even if she should part from her anchor, the storm-sails had been laid to hand, and could be bent in a very short time. They further stated, that from the direction of the wind being NE., she would sail up the Firth of Forth to Leith Roads. But if this should appear doubtful, after passing the Island and Light of May, it might be advisable at once to steer for Tyningham Sands, on the western side of Dunbar, and there run the vessel ashore. If this should happen at the time of high-water, or during the ebbing of the tide, they were of opinion, from the flatness and strength of the floating-light, that no danger would attend her taking the ground, even with a very heavy sea. The writer seeing the confidence which these gentlemen possessed with regard to the situation of things, and their knowledge and ability, should the ship break adrift, found himself as much relieved with this conversation, as he had previously been with the seeming indifference of the forecastle-men, and the smile of the watch upon deck, though literally lashed to the foremast. From this time he felt himself almost perfectly at ease; at any rate he was entirely resigned to the ultimate result.

The gale takes off.

About 6 o’clock in the evening, the ship’s company was heard moving upon deck, which, on the present occasion, was rather the cause of alarm. The writer accordingly rung his bell to know what was the matter, when he was informed by the steward, that the weather looked considerably better,and that the men upon deck were endeavouring to ship the smoke-funnel of the galley, that the people might get some meat. This was a more favourable account than had been anticipated. During the last twenty-one hours he himself had not only had nothing to eat, but he had almost never passed a thought on the subject. Upon the mention of a change of weather, he sent the steward to learn how the artificers felt, and on his return he stated that they now seemed to be all very happy, since the cook had begun to light the galley-fire, and make preparations for the suet-pudding of Sunday, which was the only dish to be attempted for the mess, from the ease with which it could both be cooked and served up.

The principal change felt upon the ship, as the wind abated, was her increased rolling motion, but the pitching was much diminished, and now hardly any sea came farther aft than the foremast; but she rolled so extremely hard, as frequently to dip and take in water over the gunwales and rails in the waist, though, as before noticed, she was in light ballast trim. By 9 o’clock, all hands had been refreshed by the exertions of the cook and steward, and were happy in the prospect of the worst of the gale being over. The usual complement of men was also now set on watch, and more quietness was experienced throughout the ship. Although the previous night had been a very restless one, it had not the effect of inducing repose in the writer’s birth on the succeeding night, for having been so much tossed about in bed, during the last thirty hours, he found no easy spot to turn to, and his body was all sore to the touch, which ill accorded with the unyielding materials with which his bed-place was surrounded.

Monday, 7th.

Appearance of the sea upon the Bell Rock.

This morning about 8 o’clock, the writer was agreeably surprised to see the scuttle of his cabin sky-light removed, and the bright rays of the sun admitted. Although the ship continued to roll excessively, and the sea was still running very high, yet the ordinary business on board seemed to be going forward on deck. It was impossible to steady a telescope, so as to look minutely at the progress of the waves, and trace their breach upon the Bell Rock, but the height to which the cross-running waves rose in sprays, when they met each other, was truly grand, and the continued roar and noise of the sea was very perceptible to the ear. To estimate the height of the sprays at forty or fifty feet, would surely be within the mark. Those of the workmen who were not much afflicted withsea-sickness, came upon deck, and the wetness below being dried up, the cabins were again brought into a habitable state. Every one seemed to meet as if after a long absence, congratulating his neighbour upon the return of good weather. Little could be said as to the comfort of the vessel, but after riding out such a gale, no one felt the least doubt or hesitation as to the safety and good condition of her moorings. The master and mate were extremely anxious, however, to heave in the hempen cable, and see the state of the clinch or iron ring of the chain-cable. But the vessel rolled at such a rate, that the seamen could not possibly keep their feet at the windlass, nor work the hand-spokes, though it had been several times attempted since the gale took off.

Floating-Light breaks adrift.

About 12 noon, however, the vessel’s motion was observed to be considerably less, and the sailors were enabled to walk upon deck with some degree of freedom. But, to the astonishment of every one, it was soon discovered that the floating-light was adrift! The windlass was instantly manned, and the men soon gave out that there was no strain upon the cable. The mizzen sail, which was bent for the occasional purpose of making the vessel ride more easily to the tide, was immediately set, and the other sails were also hoisted in a short time, when, in no small consternation, we bore away, about one mile to the south-westward of the former station, and there let go the best bower anchor and cable in twenty fathoms water, to ride until the swell of the sea should fall, when it might be practicable to grapple for the moorings, and find a better anchorage for the ship.

Cable supposed to have been cut by a piece of wreck.

As soon as the deck could be cleared, the cable-end was hove up, which had parted at the distance of about fifty fathoms from the chain-moorings. On examining the cable, it was found to be considerably chafed, but where the separation took place, it appeared to be worn through, or cut shortly off. How to account for this would be difficult, as the ground, though rough and gravelly, did not, after much sounding, appear to contain any irregular parts. It was therefore conjectured, that the cable must have hooked some piece of wreck, as it did not appear, from the state of the wind and tide, that the vessel could havefouledher anchor, when she veered round with the wind, which had shifted, in the course of the night, from NE. to N.NW. Be this as it may, it was a circumstance quite out of the power of man to prevent, as, until the ship drifted, it was found impossible to heave up the cable. But what ought to have been the feeling of thankfulness to that Providence which regulates and appoints the lot of man, when it isconsidered, that if this accident had happened during the storm, or in the night after the wind had shifted, the floating-light must inevitably have gone ashore upon the Bell Rock. In short, it is hardly possible to conceive any case more awfully distressing than our situation would have been, or one more disastrous to the important undertaking in which we were engaged.

In the present untoward state of things, the writer had chiefly to regret the necessity of making a permanent change in the position of the moorings of the floating-light, after her station had been publicly advertised, and within a week of the time of exhibiting the light. It had also become more evident that this vessel could not be continued as a tender or store-ship for the work. The object of consideration, therefore, was to place her in a situation where she would be most useful to shipping. It was evident that she must now be stationed at about double her former distance from the rock, or, instead of one mile, that she must be moored upwards of two miles from it, on ground formerly ascertained to have been good, but considered too distant from the operations.

Difficulty of manning the Floating-light.

In the evening the Smeaton came off from Arbroath, with provisions and necessaries for the work. There being little wind, and a heavy swell in the sea, it was not safe that the vessels should come in contact with each other. Mr Macurich, the mate, who came within hail, in the Smeaton’s boat, informed us, that two seamen had come off to make up the complement of the crew of the floating-light, and that they would be brought on board the first opportunity. From the manner in which this address was made, and the enquiry as to how we rode out the gale, it was evident that the crew of the Smeaton were not aware that the floating-light had shifted her place; nor, indeed, was this at all obvious, unless by a particular observation made by the mariner’s compass, in reference to the position of the rock.

The peculiarity of this service rendered it difficult to procure good seamen to embark in it, and the original crew dropped off one after another as the winter season began to advance; for as yet our naval heroes had not shewn the possibility of remaining for months together, even off an enemy’s coast. It was therefore found to be an extremely difficult matter to get the crew of the floating-light recruited from time to time; and, under the perplexity of our present situation, it was some alleviation to be told that there were men voluntarily offering their services.

In the course of this day the wind had veered from N.NW. to NE., but the weather was mild, and the sea had fallen considerably, so that the boat came alongside with the two seamen, and a supply of necessaries. The Smeaton was then dispatched to Arbroath for another set of moorings for the floating-light, in case of our not finding those from which she had drifted. Letters were also dispatched to the Light-house Board, intimating the particulars of the floating-light’s new ground, that additional notice might be given to shipping.

Wednesday, 9th.

Floating-light anchored in her new station.

The weather continued to be extremely agreeable, though the wind kept shifting about. Having got every thing in readiness for moving to the new station, which had again been carefully sounded, the floating-light was got under way,—which the author had fondly hoped never to have seen, till after her purpose as a temporary light had been supplied by a permanent building upon the Bell Rock. At 9 o’clockA. M.the best bower anchor was let go upon the new ground, in twenty fathoms water, on clean sand mixed with fine silt or mud, appearing to be the deposited matters borne along by the currents from the river Tay; the Bell Rock bearing SE. ½ S. distant about 2½ miles.

Monday, 14th.

It is found impracticable to land to-day.

The Smeaton returned to Arbroath, after landing her dispatches; but the wind and the swell of the sea having again increased, she was obliged to remain in port till the 14th. As the floating-light still rode at single anchor, it was often an anxious wish to have her once more properly fixed with chain moorings; but, as yet, no opportunity had occurred for recovering the old chain, and it took some time to prepare a new one. The Smeaton having returned from Arbroath this morning, the writer went on board of her, carrying with him all the artificers. At 6 an attempt was made to land, but the sea ran so heavily, and the breakers rushed with such fury in every direction, that after rowing all around the rock, the boats were obliged to return without success. It deserves remark, however, that this was the first attempt to land this season, in which it had been found impracticable, after actually embarking in the boats.

Tuesday, 15th.

State of matters at the rock, after a lapse of ten days.

This morning at 5A. M., the bell rung as a signal for landing upon the rock, a sound which, after a lapse of ten days, it is believed was welcomed by every one on board. There being a heavy breach of sea at the eastern creek, we landed, though not without difficulty, on the western side,every one seeming more eager than another to get upon the rock, and never did hungry men sit down to a hearty meal with more appetite than the artificers began to pick the dulse from the rocks. This marine plant had the effect of reviving the sickly, and seemed to be no less relished by those who were more hardy.

While the water was ebbing, and the men were roaming in quest of their favourite morsel, the writer was examining the effects of the storm upon the forge, and loose apparatus left upon the rock. The six large blocks of granite which had been landed, by way of experiment, on the 1st instant, were now removed from their places, and, by the force of the sea, thrown over a rising ledge into a hole at the distance of twelve or fifteen paces from the place on which they had been landed. This was a pretty good evidence, both of the violence of the storm and the agitation of the sea upon the rock. The safety of the smith’s forge was always an object of essential regard. The ash-pan of the hearth or fire-place, with its weighty cast-iron back, had been washed from their places of supposed security: the chains of attachment had been broken, and these ponderous articles were found at a very considerable distance, in a hole on the western side of the rock; while the tools and picks of the Aberdeen masons were scattered about in every direction. It is, however, remarkable, that not a single article was ultimately lost. A mushroom-anchor, weighing about 22 cwt., had been driven from its station at some distance, and thrown upon the rock, being found in one of the landing creeks. The floating-buoy being still attached to it, had received no material damage, though it had been chafed and was water-logged. This buoy, with its moorings, consisting of 24 fathoms of chain, and the anchor, had been given up as lost, ever since the gale; but just as the boats were about to leave the rock, they were fortunately observed between two ledges of rock, by one of the seamen.

Work, this tide, continues only for one hour.

After having been two hours and a half upon the rock this morning, boats left it at a quarter past 8. At half-past 6P. M., they again returned; but the smith having fallen into the water in landing, got the tinder so wetted, that he could not strike fire, and the work was left off at 7, after one hour’s work, for want of sharp tools.—The site of the beacon being now prepared, and the stanchion-holes excavated, the mode of employing the artificers was reversed, only four being occupied at the beacon works, and twelve in preparing the foundation of the light-house.


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