“See, the day begins to break,And the light shoots like a streakOf subtle fire. The wind blows cold,While the morning doth unfold,”—Fletcher
“See, the day begins to break,And the light shoots like a streakOf subtle fire. The wind blows cold,While the morning doth unfold,”—Fletcher
“See, the day begins to break,And the light shoots like a streakOf subtle fire. The wind blows cold,While the morning doth unfold,”—Fletcher
“See, the day begins to break,
And the light shoots like a streak
Of subtle fire. The wind blows cold,
While the morning doth unfold,”—Fletcher
At length—and what a length—the day began to dawn, and with it came renewed hope that I might be rescued. As the welcome light crept slowly in I kept straining my eyes, when I got a chance on top of a sea, for some signs of my shipmates, but in no direction could I see the slightest trace. Had they been picked up? Had they reached the shore? or had they, unable to withstand the tossing and exposure during the fearful night, all been drowned? The sight of even one of them would have helped to revive my drooping spirits. Whilst it was dark night I clung to the thought that although I could not see my mates, still some of them might be near me. Now, however, I realised that I was alone amidst the seething waters. Then Iremembered that when darkness closed in on the previous day the majority of my companions were a good distance inshore of me, and it was just possible that they had got safely to land. This reflection helped me to make up my mind to struggle on while there was a bit of life left in me. A number of albatrosses now began to hover around, and two of them swooped down close to my head. I raised my arms as well as I could and thereby succeeded in frightening them away. Seeing me lying on the boards I dare say they thought I was dead! By the time daylight came thoroughly in I was able to see the land stretching along at no great distance off. I think it must have been about 5 a. m. when I found myself right abreast of the Schanck with a strong current sweeping round it and setting me towards the Heads. The tide, wind and sea all bore directly on my raft and seemed to be taking me rapidly nearer the shore.
Quite plainly I could see the Rotunda on St. Paul’s, and by all appearance I was being driven in a little to the westward of it. When lifted up by the seas, as I came nearer and nearer the shore, I saw what looked like a little bay with a belt, or patch, of sandy beach at the head of it. Whilst earnestly praying that I might be fortunate enough to be drawn into the bay, my heart went down again when I caught sight of the fearful breakers that were running across its entrance. These breakers lay directly in front of me, and I could see no way in, except by passing through them. Gathering my scattered senses together as well as I could, I took a fresh hold of my boards, and prepared for a last desperateeffort. As I got close to the broken waters I could hear their thundering roar, although they were still to leeward of my raft. After some minutes’ anxious suspense, I reached the dreaded breakers; then almost instantly my boards were ruthlessly snatched away, in spite of my best efforts to retain them. I felt myself being turned over and over like a rolling ball; at the same time I experienced, more than at any previous period, an awful sense of utter helplessness. The thick foam filled my mouth and nostrils so much that I felt all the sensations of suffocation, and believed my end had come. Just then another sea threw me clear of the foam and dashed me, face and knees downwards, on to some rocks which were sunk a little under water. Instinctively I threw out my arms, and thus prevented my face from striking the jutting stones, while the thickness of the life-belt kept the blows from my body. Dazed, and almost senseless as I was, I could see that the sandy patch was still a distance off, too far away for me to expect the incoming breaker to carry me there. My strength being gone, I felt it utterly useless to attempt to swim to the beach, and hence I came to the conclusion that if the next wave did not take me in, it would dash me against the rocks and knock out the little life I had left. Along, it came roaring, but being too weak and stupid to make ready for it, I was caught broadside on, lifted high above the rocks, and whirled away helpless as a log, right up on the sandy shore, As I rolled over and over on the sand the motion made my neck and head feel as if they were going to burst in pieces. Suddenly the rolling ceased, then I becameaware that the back-wash of the wave was taking me out again. In sheer desperation I clutched the sand, but my fingers, being numbed and nerveless, had no power of grasping. Then I dug my knuckles in as well as I could, but all to no purpose, out I kept going, as helpless as when I came in!
two sailing ships