A \ B \ C \ D \ E \ F \ G \ H \ I \ J \ K \ L \ M \ N \ O \ P \ R \ S \ T \ U \ V \ W \Z

A Voyage in the 'Sunbeam' by Annie Allnut Brassey

A >> Annie Allnut Brassey >> A Voyage in the \'Sunbeam\'




_Wednesday, September 27th_.--A fine breeze was blowing this morning,
in a favourable direction for our start, but as ten and eleven o'clock
arrived, and there were still no signs of the expected stores, Tom was
in despair, and wanted to sail without them. I therefore volunteered
to go ashore in the gig and see what had happened to them, and
telegraph, if necessary, to Mr. Crabtree. Fortunately, we met the tug
on our way, and returned in tow of her to the yacht. Then, after
settling a few bills, and obtaining our bill of health, we got the
anchor up, and proceeded down the river under sail. Between one and
two o'clock we commenced steaming, and in the course of the evening
were clear of the River Plate and fairly on our way to the Straits of
Magellan.




CHAPTER VIII.

RIVER PLATE TO SANDY POINT, STRAITS OF MAGELLAN.

_I have seen tempests, when the scolding winds_
_Have riv'd the knotty oaks; and I have seen_
_The ambitious ocean swell and rage and foam,_
_To be exalted with the threat'ning clouds:_
_But never till to-night, never till now_
_Did I go through a tempest dropping fire._


_Thursday, September 28th_,--A fine bright morning, with a strong,
fair wind. The order to stop firing was given at noon, and we ceased
steaming shortly after. There had evidently been a gale from the
southward during the last few days, for the swell was tremendous, and
not only made us all feel very uncomfortable after our long stay in
harbour, but considerably diminished our speed. Still, we managed to
go twenty-seven knots in two hours and a half.

I was lying down, below, after breakfast, feeling very stupid, when
Mabelle rushed into the cabin, saying, 'Papa says you are to come up
on deck at once, to see the ship on fire.' I rushed up quickly, hardly
knowing whether she referred to our own or some other vessel, and on
reaching the deck I found everybody looking at a large barque, under
full sail, flying the red union-jack upside down, and with signals in
her rigging, which our signal-man read as 'Ship on fire.' These were
lowered shortly afterwards, and the signals, 'Come on board at once,'
hoisted in their place. Still we could see no appearance of smoke or
flames, but we nevertheless hauled to the wind, tacked, hove to, and
sent off a boat's crew, well armed, thinking it not impossible that a
mutiny had taken place on board and that the captain or officers,
mistaking the yacht for a gunboat, had appealed to us for assistance.
We were now near enough to the barque to make out her name through a
glass--the 'Monkshaven,' of Whitby--and we observed a puff of smoke
issue from her deck simultaneously with the arrival of our boat
alongside. In the course of a few minutes, the boat returned, bringing
the mate of the 'Monkshaven,' a fine-looking Norwegian, who spoke
English perfectly, and who reported his ship to be sixty-eight days
out from Swansea, bound for Valparaiso, with a cargo of smelting coal.
The fire had first been discovered on the previous Sunday, and by 6
a.m. on Monday the crew had got up their clothes and provisions on
deck, thrown overboard all articles of a combustible character, such
as tar, oil, paint, spare spars and sails, planks, and rope, and
battened down the hatches. Ever since then they had all been living on
deck, with no protection from the wind and sea but a canvas screen.
Tom and Captain Brown proceeded on board at once. They found the deck
more than a foot deep in water, and all a-wash; when the hatches were
opened for a moment dense clouds of hot suffocating yellow smoke
immediately poured forth, driving back all who stood near. From the
captain's cabin came volumes of poisonous gas, which had found its way
in through the crevices, and one man, who tried to enter, was rendered
insensible.

[Illustration: Monkshaven on Fire.]

It was perfectly evident that it would be impossible to save the ship,
and the captain therefore determined, after consultation with Tom and
Captain Brown, to abandon her. Some of the crew were accordingly at
once brought on board the 'Sunbeam,' in our boat, which was then sent
back to assist in removing the remainder, a portion of whom came in
their own boat. The poor fellows were almost wild with joy at getting
alongside another ship, after all the hardships they had gone through,
and in their excitement they threw overboard many things which they
might as well have kept, as they had taken the trouble to bring them.
Our boat made three trips altogether, and by half-past six we had them
all safe on board, with most of their effects, and the ship's
chronometers, charts, and papers.

The poor little dingy, belonging to the 'Monkshaven,' had been cast
away as soon as the men had disembarked from her, and there was
something melancholy in seeing her slowly drift away to leeward,
followed by her oars and various small articles, as if to rejoin the
noble ship she had so lately quitted. The latter was now hove-to,
under full sail, an occasional puff of smoke alone betraying the
presence of the demon of destruction within. The sky was dark and
lowering, the sunset red and lurid in its grandeur, the clouds
numerous and threatening, the sea high and dark, with occasional
streaks of white foam. Not a breath of wind was stirring. Everything
portended a gale. As we lay slowly rolling from side to side, both
ship and boat were sometimes plainly visible, and then again both
would disappear, for what seemed an age, in the deep trough of the
South Atlantic rollers.

For two hours we could see the smoke pouring from various portions of
the ill-fated barque. Our men, who had brought off the last of her
crew, reported that, as they left her, flames were just beginning to
burst from the fore-hatchway; and it was therefore certain that the
rescue had not taken place an hour too soon. Whilst we were at dinner,
Powell called us up on deck to look at her again, when we found that
she was blazing like a tar-barrel. The captain was anxious to stay by
and see the last of her, but Tom was unwilling to incur the delay
which this would have involved. We accordingly got up steam, and at
nine p.m. steamed round the 'Monkshaven,' as close as it was deemed
prudent to go. No flames were visible then; only dense volumes of
smoke and sparks, issuing from the hatches. The heat, however, was
intense, and could be plainly felt, even in the cold night air, as we
passed some distance to leeward. All hands were clustered in our
rigging, on the deck-house or on the bridge, to see the last of the
poor 'Monkshaven,' as she was slowly being burnt down to the water's
edge.

She was a large and nearly new (three years old) composite ship, built
and found by her owners, Messrs. Smales, of Whitby, of 657 tons
burden, and classed A 1 for ten years at Lloyd's. Her cargo, which
consisted of coal for smelting purposes, was a very dangerous one; so
much so that Messrs. Nicholas, of Sunderland, from whose mines the
coal is procured, have great difficulty in chartering vessels to carry
it, and are therefore in the habit of building and using their own
ships for the purpose. At Buenos Ayres we were told that, of every
three ships carrying this cargo round to Valparaiso or Callao, one
catches fire, though the danger is frequently discovered in time to
prevent much damage to the vessel or loss of life.

The crew of the 'Monkshaven'--Danes, Norwegians, Swedes, Scotch, and
Welsh--appear to be quiet, respectable men. This is fortunate, as an
incursion of fifteen rough lawless spirits on board our little vessel
would have been rather a serious matter. In their hurry and fright,
however, they left all their provisions behind them, and it is no joke
to have to provide food for fifteen extra hungry mouths for a week or
ten days, with no shops at hand from which to replenish our stores.
The sufficiency of the water supply, too, is a matter for serious
consideration. We have all been put on half-allowance, and sea-water
only is to be used for washing purposes.

[Illustration: Shipwrecked Crew coming on Board.]

Some account of the disaster, as gathered from the lips of various
members of the crew at different times, may perhaps be interesting. It
seems that, early on Monday morning, the day following that on which
the fire was discovered, another barque, the 'Robert Hinds,' of
Liverpool, was spoken. The captain of that vessel offered to stand by
them or do anything in his power to help them; but at that time they
had a fair wind for Monte Video, only 120 miles distant, and they
therefore determined to run for that port, and do their best to save
the ship, and possibly some of the cargo. In the course of the night,
however, a terrible gale sprang up, the same, no doubt, as the one of
which we had felt the effects on first leaving the River Plate. They
were driven hither and thither, the sea constantly breaking over them
and sweeping the decks, though fortunately without washing any of them
overboard. After forty-eight hours of this rough usage the men were
all exhausted, while the fire was gradually increasing in strength
beneath their feet, and they knew not at what moment it might burst
through the decks and envelope the whole ship in flames. They were
beginning to abandon all hope of a rescue, when a sail was suddenly
discovered; and as soon as the necessary flags could be found, the
same signal which attracted us was displayed. The vessel, now quite
close to them, proved to be a large American steamer, but she merely
hoisted her own ensign and code-pennant, and then coolly steamed away
to the southward. 'I think that captain deserved tarring and
feathering, anyway,' one of the men said to me. Another observed, 'I
wonder what will become of that man; for we had put all our lives in
his hand by signalling as we did; and every seaman knows that right
well.' Another said, 'When we saw that ship go away, we all gave in
and lay down in despair to die. But our captain, who is very good to
his crew, and a religious man too, said, "There is One above who looks
after us all." That was true enough, for, about ten minutes
afterwards, as I was talking to the cook, and telling him it was all
over with us, I saw a sail to leeward, and informed the captain. We
bore down a little, but did not like to go out of our course too much,
fearing you might be a "Portuguese," and play us the same trick as the
American.' (They could not understand our white ensign; for, our
funnel being stowed, we looked like a sailing vessel, while all
gunboats of our size are steamers.) 'When we saw it was an English
vessel, and that you answered our signals and sent a boat off, we were
indeed thankful; though that was nothing to what we feel now at once
more having a really dry ship under our feet. Not that we have really
suffered anything very terrible, for we had a bit of shelter, and
plenty to eat, and the worst part was seeing our things washed
overboard, and thinking perhaps we might go next. We have not had a
dry deck since we left Swansea, and the pumps have been kept going
most of the time. Why, with this sea, ma'am, our decks would be under
water.' (This surprised me; as, though low in the water, the
'Monkshaven' did not appear to be overladen, and the Plimsoll mark was
plainly visible.) 'Our boats were all ready for launching, but we had
no sails, and only one rudder for the three; so we should have had
hard work to fetch anywhere if we had taken to them. We lashed the two
boys--apprentices, fourteen and sixteen years old--in one of the
boats, for fear they should be washed overboard. The youngest of them
is the only son of his mother, a widow; and you could see how she
loved him by the way she had made his clothes, and fitted him out all
through. He was altogether too well found for a ship like ours, but
now most of his things are lost. His chest could not be got up from
below, and though I borrowed an old bread-bag from the steward, it was
not half big enough, and his sea-boots and things his mother had given
him to keep him dry and cover his bed--not oilskins, like
ours.'--'Mackintoshes,' I suggested.--'Yes, that's the name--they were
all lost. It did seem a pity. The boy never thought there was much
danger till this morning, when I told him all hope was gone, as the
American ship had sailed away from us. He said, "Will the ship go to
the bottom?" and I replied, "I fear so; but we have good boats, so
keep up your heart, little man." He made no further remark, but laid
down gently again, and cried a little.'

This poor child was dreadfully frightened in the small boat coming
alongside, and his look of joy and relief, when once he got safely on
board, was a treat to me. Every one on board, including the captain,
seems to have been very kind to him. One of the men had his foot
broken by the sea, and the captain himself had his leg severely
injured; so the Doctor has some cases at last.

It was almost impossible to sleep during the night, owing to the heavy
rolling, by far the most violent that we have yet experienced.

_Friday, September 29th_.--Again a fine morning. A fair breeze sprang
up, and, the dreaded storm having apparently passed over, we ceased
steaming at 6 a.m.

All on board are now settling down into something like order. The
stewards are arranging matters below, and measuring out the stores, to
allowance the men for twelve days. The men belonging respectively to
the port and starboard watches of the 'Monkshaven' have been placed in
the corresponding watches on board the 'Sunbeam.' The cook and steward
are assisting ours below, and the two boys are very happy, helping in
the kitchen, and making themselves generally useful. The deck does not
look quite as neat as usual. Such of the men's sea-chests as have been
saved are lashed round the steam-chest, so that they can be got at
easily, while their bags and other odd things have been stowed on
deck, wherever they can be kept dry; for every inch of available space
below is occupied. Captain Runciman is writing, with tears in his
eyes, the account of the loss of his fine ship. He tells me that he
tried in vain to save sixty pounds' worth of his own private charts
from his cabin, but it was impossible, on account of the stifling
atmosphere, which nearly overpowered him. Fortunately, all his things
are insured. He drowned his favourite dog, a splendid Newfoundland,
just before leaving the ship; for, although a capital watch-dog, and
very faithful, he was rather large and fierce; and when it was known
that the 'Sunbeam' was a yacht, with ladies and children on board, he
feared to introduce him. Poor fellow! I wish I had known about it in
time to save his life!

The great danger of smelting coal, as a ship's cargo, besides its
special liability to spontaneous combustion, appears to be that the
fire may smoulder in the very centre of the mass for so long that,
when the smoke is at last discovered, it is impossible to know how far
the mischief has advanced. It may go on smouldering quietly for days,
or at any moment the gas that has been generated may burst up the
vessel's decks from end to end, without the slightest warning. Or it
may burn downwards, and penetrate some portion of the side of the ship
below water; so that, before any suspicion has been aroused, the water
rushes in, and the unfortunate ship and her crew go to the bottom. On
board the 'Monkshaven' the men dug down into the cargo in many places
on Sunday night, only to find that the heat became more intense the
deeper they went; and several of them had their hands or fingers burnt
in the operation.

This has been about the best day for sailing that we have had since we
left the tropics. The sea has been smooth, and a fair breeze has taken
us steadily along at the rate of nine knots an hour. The sun shone
brightly beneath a blue sky, and the temperature is delightful. The
sunset was grand, though the sky looked threatening; but the moon rose
brilliantly, and until we went to bed, at ten o'clock, the evening was
as perfect as the day had been. At midnight, however, Tom and I were
awakened by a knock at our cabin door, and the gruff voice of Powell,
saying: 'The barometer's going down very fast, please, sir, and it's
lightning awful in the sou'-west. There's a heavy storm coming up.' We
were soon on deck, where we found all hands busily engaged in
preparing for the tempest. Around us a splendid sight presented
itself. On one side a heavy bank of black clouds could be seen rapidly
approaching, while the rest of the heavens were brilliantly
illuminated by forked and sheet lightning, the thunder meanwhile
rolling and rattling without intermission. An ominous calm followed,
during which the men had barely time to lower all the sails on deck,
without waiting to stow them, the foresail and jib only being left
standing, when the squall struck us, not very severely, but with a
blast as hot as that from a furnace. We thought worse was coming, and
continued our preparations; but the storm passed rapidly away to
windward, and was succeeded by torrents of rain, so that it was
evident we could only have had quite the tail of it.

_Saturday, September 30th_.--The morning broke bright and clear, and
was followed by a calm, bright, sunny day, of which I availed myself
to take some photographs of the captain and crew of the 'Monkshaven.'
The wind failed us entirely in the afternoon, and it became necessary
to get up steam. In the ordinary course of things, we should probably
have had sufficient patience to wait for the return of the breeze; but
the recent large addition to our party made it desirable for us to
lose as little time as possible in reaching Sandy Point. Another grand
but wild-looking sunset seemed like the precursor of a storm; but we
experienced nothing worse than a sharp squall of hot wind, accompanied
by thunder and lightning.

_Sunday, October 1st_.--A fine morning, with a fair wind. At eleven we
had a short service, at four a longer one, with an excellent sermon
from Tom, specially adapted to the rescue of the crew of the burning
ship. As usual, the sunset, which was magnificent, was succeeded by a
slight storm, which passed over without doing us any harm.

I have said that it was found impossible to save any provisions from
the 'Monkshaven.' As far as the men are concerned, I think this is
hardly to be regretted, for I am told that the salt beef with which
they were supplied had lain in pickle for so many years that the
saltpetre had eaten all the nourishment out of it, and had made it so
hard that the men, instead of eating it, used to amuse themselves by
carving it into snuff-boxes, little models of ships, &c. I should
not, however, omit to mention that Captain Runciman managed to bring
away with him four excellent York hams, which he presented to us, and
one of which we had to-day at dinner.

_Wednesday, October 4th_.--At 6 a.m., on going on deck I found we were
hove-to under steam and closely-reefed sails, a heavy gale blowing
from the south-west, right ahead. The screw was racing round in the
air every time we encountered an unusually big wave; the spray was
dashing over the vessel, and the water was rushing along the
deck--altogether an uncomfortable morning. As the sun rose, the gale
abated, and in the course of the day the reefs were shaken out of the
sails, one by one, until, by sunset, we were once more under whole
canvas, beating to windward. There were several cries of 'land ahead'
during the day, but in each case a closer examination, through a
glass, proved that the fancied coast-line or mountain-top existed only
in cloud-land.

_Thursday, October 5th_.--We made the land early, and most
uninteresting it looked, consisting, as it did, of a low sandy shore,
with a background of light clay-coloured cliffs. Not a vestige of
vegetation was anywhere to be seen, and I am quite at a loss to
imagine what the guanacos and ostriches, with which the chart tells us
the country hereabouts abounds, find to live upon. About twelve
o'clock we made Cape Virgins, looking very like Berry Head to the
north of Torbay, and a long spit of low sandy land, stretching out to
the southward, appropriately called Dungeness.

Some of the charts brought on board by Captain Runciman were published
by Messrs. Imray, of London, and in one of them it is represented that
a fine fixed light has been established on Cape Virgins.[2] This we
knew to be an impossibility, not only on account of the general
character of the country, but because no indication is given of the
light in our newest Admiralty charts. Captain Runciman, however, had
more confidence in the correctness of his own chart, and could hardly
believe his eyes when he saw that the light really had no existence on
the bare bleak headland. His faith was terribly shaken, and I hope he
will not omit to call Messrs. Imray's attention to the matter on his
return home; for the mistake is most serious, and one which might lead
to the destruction of many a good ship.

[Footnote 2: I have since received a letter from Messrs. Imray
requesting me to state that the light was inserted on erroneous
information from the hydrographic office at Washington, and has since
been erased from their charts.]

About two o'clock we saw in the far distance what looked at first like
an island, and then like smoke, but gradually shaped itself into the
masts, funnel, and hull of a large steamer. From her rig we at once
guessed her to be the Pacific Company's mail boat, homeward bound.
When near enough, we accordingly hoisted our number, and signalled 'We
wish to communicate,' whereupon she bore down upon us and ceased
steaming. We then rounded up under her lee and lowered a boat, and
Tom, Mabelle, and I, with Captain Runciman and four or five of the
shipwrecked crew, went on board. Our advent caused great excitement,
and seamen and passengers all crowded into the bows to watch us. As we
approached the ladder the passengers ran aft, and directly we reached
the deck the captain took possession of Tom, the first and second
officers of Mabelle and myself, while Captain Runciman and each of his
crew were surrounded by a little audience eager to know what had
happened, and all about it. At first it was thought that we all wanted
a passage, but when we explained matters Captain Thomas, the commander
of the 'Illimani,' very kindly undertook to receive all our refugees
and convey them to England. We therefore sent the gig back for the
rest of the men and the chests of the whole party, and then availed
ourselves of the opportunity afforded by the delay to walk round the
ship. It was most amusing to see the interest with which we were
regarded by all on board. Passengers who had never been seen out of
their berths since leaving Valparaiso, and others who were indulging,
at the time of our visit, in the luxury of a 'day sleep,' between the
twelve o'clock luncheon and four o'clock dinner, suddenly made their
appearance, in dressing-gowns and wraps, with dishevelled hair and
wide-opened eyes, gazing in mute astonishment at us, quite unable to
account for our mysterious arrival on board in this out-of-the-way
spot. A mail steamer does not stop for a light cause, and it was
therefore evident to them that the present was no ordinary occurrence.
The captain told us that the last time he passed through the Straits
he picked up two boats' crews, who had escaped from a burning ship,
and who had suffered indescribable hardships before they were rescued.

Captain Runciman is convinced, after comparing notes with the chief
officer of the 'Illimani,' that the vessel which refused to notice his
signal of distress was the 'Wilmington,' sent down from New York, with
a party of forty wreckers, to try and get the steamer 'Georgia' off
the rocks near Port Famine, in the Straits of Magellan. If this be so,
it is the more surprising that no attempt was made to render
assistance to the 'Monkshaven,' provided her signals were understood,
as the 'Wilmington' had plenty of spare hands, and could not have been
in a particular hurry. Moreover, one would think that, with her
powerful engines, she might have made an attempt to tow the distressed
vessel into Monte Video, and so secure three or four thousand pounds
of salvage money.

The captain of the 'Illimani' kindly gave us half a bullock, killed
this morning, a dozen live ducks and chickens, and the latest
newspapers. Thus supplied with food for body and mind, we said
farewell, and returned to the 'Sunbeam;' our ensigns were duly dipped,
we steamed away on our respective courses, and in less than an hour we
were out of sight of each other. It is a sudden change for the
'Monkshaven' men, who were all very reluctant to leave the yacht. Many
of them broke down at the last moment, particularly when it came to
saying good-bye to Tom and me, at the gangway of the steamer. They had
seemed thoroughly to appreciate any kindnesses they received while
with us, and were anxious to show their gratitude in every possible
way. The two boys, especially, were in great grief at their departure,
and were very loth to part with their boatswain, who remains with us
to make up our complement.[3]

Copyright (c) 2007. bestextbooks.com. All rights reserved.

Various - "Punch, or the London Charivari, Vol. 102, April 30, 1892"

Various - "Punch, Or The London Charivari, Vol. 101, August 8, 1891"

Various - "The Great Round World and What Is Going On In It, Vol. 1, No. 16, February 25, 1897"

Arthur M. Mann - "The Boer in Peace and War"