had been on board with us, since our only hopes of safety
seemed to depend on our putting immediately to sea. But all communication
with the shore was now effectually cut off, for there was no possibility
that a boat could live so that we were necessitated to ride it out till
our cables parted. Indeed, it was not long before this happened, for the
small bower parted at five in the afternoon, and the ship swung off to
the best bower; and as the night came on the violence of the wind still
increased. But, notwithstanding its inexpressible fury, the tide ran with
so much rapidity as to prevail over it; for the tide, having set to the
northward in the beginning of the storm, turned suddenly to the southward
about six in the evening, and forced the ship before it in despite of the
storm, which blew upon the beam. And now the sea broke most surprisingly
all round us, and a large tumbling swell threatened to poop us; the
long-boat, which was at this time moored astern, was on a sudden canted
so high that it broke the transom of the Commodore's gallery, and would
doubtless have risen as high as the taffrail had it not been for this
stroke which stove the boat all to pieces; but the poor boat-keeper,
though extremely bruised, was saved almost by miracle. About eight the
tide slackened, but the wind did not abate; so that at eleven the best
bower cable, by which alone we rode, parted. Our sheet anchor, which was
the only one we had left, was instantly cut from the bow; but before it
could reach the bottom we were driven from twenty-two into thirty-five
fathoms; and after we had veered away one whole cable and two-thirds of
another, we could not find ground with sixty fathoms of line. This was a
plain indication that the anchor lay near the edge of the bank, and could
not hold us long.

In this pressing danger Mr. Suamarez, our first lieutenant, who now
commanded on board, ordered several guns to be fired and lights to be
shown, as a signal to the Commodore of our distress; and in a short time
after, it being then about one o'clock, and the night excessively dark, a
strong gust, attended with rain and lightning, drove us off the bank and
forced us out to sea, leaving behind us on the island Mr. Anson, with
many more of our officers, and great part of our crew, amounting in the
whole to one hundred and thirteen persons. Thus were we all, both at sea
and on shore, reduced to the utmost despair by this catastrophe; those on
shore conc