After we had lain four or five days, the wind still blew very hard. However, the crew of our ship was absolutely calm: the Yarmouth Roads are known as the safest place; there is no more danger there, than in any other harbor. Moreover, our ship had the good anchor, and our ground-tackle[23] was very strong. So, our men spent all the time in rest and mirth, after the manner of the sea.

But on the eighth day, in the morning, the wind increased, and we had all hands at work to strike our topmasts[24], and make everything close, so that the ship might ride as easy as possible.

By noon the sea went very high. Once or twice we thought that our anchor had come home; upon which our master ordered out the sheet-anchor[25], so that we rode with two anchors ahead.

By this time it blew a terrible storm indeed. Anyone may judge what a condition I must have been in during all this; such a young sailor and so frightened in a first little storm. But it was not the fear of death that scared me. It seemed like a Providence punishment[26]. I had broken my oath, which I gave during the first storm. Now it seemed clear what fate awaited me, if I didn’t return home. And this, added to the terror of the storm, put me into such a condition, that I have no words to describe it.

I was lying still in my cabin, and I heard that the master went in and out of his cabin by mine, saying softly several times a minute “Lord, be merciful to us![27] We shall be all lost! We shall be all undone!” and the like. I got up out of my cabin and looked out; but such a dismal sight I never saw. I saw terror and amazement in the faces of the seamen themselves. The sea ran mountains high, and broke upon us every three or four minutes.

Towards evening the mate and boatswain[28] asked the master of our ship to let them cut away the fore-mast.[29] When they had cut it away, the main mast[30] shook the ship so much, that they were obliged to cut that away also, and make a clear deck.

Two more ships, that were standing near us, drived from their anchors[31] and were run out of the Roads to sea, at all adventures, without any masts. The similar fate awaited us. The boatswain, the master, and some others more sensible than the rest were praying, expecting every moment that the ship would go to the bottom.

In the middle of the night we found the leak in a hold[32]. One of the men that had been down to see cried out that there was four feet water in the hold. Then all hands were called to the pump. We worked all night long, but the water kept coming. It was clear that the ship would founder; and though the storm began to fall off a little, it was impossible to keep afloat till we might run into any port. So the master began firing guns for help[33].

The light ship, who had rid it out just ahead of us, sent a boat to help us. But it was impossible for us to get on board, or for the boat to lie near the ship’s side. All the men in the boat were rowing very heartily, and venturing their lives[34] to save ours. Finally, we extended them a rope[35] so they managed to swim very close to the board of our ship, and we all got into their boat. It was no purpose for them or us, after we were in the boat, to think of reaching their own ship; so all agreed to let the boat drive on it’s own, and only to pull it in towards shore as much as we could.

We were not much more than a quarter of an hour out of our ship, when we saw it sink[36]. Only then I understood for the first time what was meant by a ship foundering in the sea.

When our boat was mounting the waves, we were able to see the shore. A huge number of people gathered on the beach to help us as soon as we moored to the bank[37]. But we made a very slow way towards the shore. Only when we passed the lighthouse[38] at Winterton, we found ourselves in a small bay near the Cromer, where the wind was a little quieter. Here we got in, and though not without much difficulty, all got safe on shore and walked afterwards on foot to Yarmouth.

As unfortunate men that have been in a shipwreck[39], we were welcomed with great humanity there. The townspeople gave us houses to leave, and by the particular merchants and owners of ships we had enough money to carry either to London or back to Hull as we wanted.

My comrade, who was the master’s son, and who prompted me to go with him on his father’s ship to London, was now less forward then I. At Yarmouth we were separated in the town to several quarters, so the first time he spoke to me after the shipwreck was not till two or three days of our staying in town. He asked me how I did, looking very melancholy and shaking his head[40]. He told his father who I was, and how I had come to this voyage only for a trial, in order to go further abroad.

His father turned to me with a very grave and concerned tone: “Young man,” said he, “you ought never to go to sea anymore; you ought to take this for a plain and visible token that you are not to be a seafaring man.”

“Why, sir,” said I, “will you go to sea no more?”

Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес».

Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию на ЛитРес.

Безопасно оплатить книгу можно банковской картой Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, со счета мобильного телефона, с платежного терминала, в салоне МТС или Связной, через PayPal, WebMoney, Яндекс.Деньги, QIWI Кошелек, бонусными картами или другим удобным Вам способом.