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قراءة كتاب The Loss of the Australia A narrative of the loss of the brig Australia by fire on her voyage from Leith to Sydney

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‏اللغة: English
The Loss of the Australia
A narrative of the loss of the brig Australia by fire on
her voyage from Leith to Sydney

The Loss of the Australia A narrative of the loss of the brig Australia by fire on her voyage from Leith to Sydney

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دار النشر: Project Gutenberg
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of the ship from smoke, so as to allow us to labour with efficiency. A hole was then cut in the deck, above the strongest seat of the fire, and an uninterrupted stream of water poured down through the opening; but the rapid increase of smoke and flame soon convinced us that all idea of subduing the fire, and saving the ship, was impracticable. We then covered the deck with the loose sails, to smother, as far as possible, the smoke and flame; for by this time the deck-plank was blistering beneath our feet, and it was impossible to breathe amidships. Our next efforts were directed to launching the long-boat, which, as usual, was secured on deck. This proved to be a work of great difficulty, and occasioned considerable delay, not unmixed with danger. The boat had been converted into a stall for two live bulls, and in attempting to get them over the side, one of them, in the confusion, unfortunately got out of the slings, and ran frantic along the deck. This accident, as may be supposed, greatly increased the general consternation, and much invaluable time was lost ere the ferocious animal could be secured and despatched; so that when the tackles were hooked on to the boat, it was impossible to breathe in that part of the ship. The men could only take a hasty pull and then rush aft to breathe; and it was only after repeated efforts, and great perseverance, that we got the bow of the long-boat sufficiently high for launching. We then manned the after-tackle, but, unfortunately, it unhooked aloft, and it required enormous exertions to get it replaced; however, by fastening some guys round the rigging, and through the blessing of God on our efforts, we at length got the boat launched, and two good hands into her. To pass her aft, and preserve her from swamping, were matters of great labour; for the roll of the sea was so heavy, and the smoke was so dense over the lee-side, that we could not see what we were doing. While these things were going on, I had ordered the steward to prepare some bread, and small stores, to put into the boat; and I now went down to see what progress he had made for our supply, leaving the mate on deck to roll some water casks aft, and after slinging them well, to drop them over the quarter to the long-boat. Every moment, by this time, was invaluable; for the flames had now made their appearance up the fore-hatch, and very soon caught the rigging and sails. I can never sufficiently commend the energy of the mate, and the steadiness and good behaviour of the men during these exertions. There was no swearing, no inclination to fly to spirits; every man was obedient to orders, and anxious to do his utmost. Even the passengers revealed the same excellent spirit; I heard no screams from the females, and even the children ceased to cry. All seemed to feel that every effort was making for their safety, and they silently acquiesced in the arrangements.

Our preparations were soon made. Two small bags of bread, two hams, two cheeses, two or three canisters of preserved meat, and a few bottles of wine, with a sextant, some charts, an almanac, my Bible and Psalm-Book, and some flannel shirts and blankets, &c., were all that we could secure amid the suffocating smoke. These were immediately carried on deck, and secured in the skiff, which still hung in the stern-davits. The mate, in the meantime, had rolled two casks of rain-water aft, which was all that he could obtain. To secure their safe transmission to the long-boat in such a sea, was no easy matter. I therefore confided to the mate to lift them into the boat, and he left the ship for this purpose. The first cask was well directed, but in lifting it over the gunwale of the boat, it fell upon the mate and another seaman, who were dreadfully bruised; it was a marvel, indeed, that they were not killed. In consequence of their being disabled, the second cask got out of the slings, and we lost it. This was a very serious matter, but it was irreparable, as the whole front part of the ship was now on fire, and quite impassable for any purpose. Finding that I could make no further provision for the people, I put the ladies and three children in the skiff, with two seamen, who were ordered to cut the faulds, so soon as she touched the water, while we lowered them from the davits. This was done in safety, which was a special mercy, as the boat was greatly overloaded; having, besides the stores, and the above company, two of the passengers, who, unknown to me, had concealed themselves under the thafts. There were now left on board the ship five or six persons, together with myself. These immediately launched the small boat, which hung on the main-deck, and got safely into it, so that, for a little season, I stood the last living thing amid the burning mass. My position was alike novel and awful; two horrid deaths were before me—one on either hand—and I stood but upon a point between them. At that moment the flame was playing fearfully over all the rigging; the topping-lifts had been burnt through, and the trysail-boom came swinging down on the taffrail; the trysail itself was on fire as high up as the third reef, and the mainmast every moment was expected to fall above me. With a heavy heart I felt that I must quit for ever the ship and property, of which I could no longer retain the charge. Another and a still more sacred trust was beneath me; and as I looked down upon the twenty-seven hapless beings, ghastly amid the glare of the burning ship, and tossed above the billows that soon might be our mutual tomb, I felt—oh, how I felt—that the charge of such beings was not mine. Calmly as my momentary solitude would permit, I lifted my soul to Him who “rules the raging of the sea,” and cast myself and company into his everlasting arms. If ever fervent prayer was productive of immediate peace, my heart felt it at that moment; for the words of God thrilled through me at the instant, as if his own finger had inscribed them upon my bosom,—“Call upon me in the day of trouble, I will deliver thee.” I was recalled, however, from my reverie by the mate imploring me to come into the boat, and as I could do no more, I obeyed the summons; so, sliding down the tackles, I got safely into the boat, among my wretched companions. At that instant the mainmast fell with a tremendous crash over the side, and the flames shot up with frightful fury from the cabin-skylight, as if to intimate that the work of destruction was nearly completed, and that our ill-fated vessel was no longer fit to be a refuge for living beings.

“One woe was past;” and although we knew well that others were awaiting us, it was still an act of marvellous mercy that so many persons had “come out of the midst of the fire” with “not a hair of any of our heads singed.” It is needless to speculate as to the cause of our disaster; but, as it undoubtedly began in the lower hold among the coals, it was most probably produced by spontaneous combustion. When the last person left the ship, it must have been about eleven o’clock, so that in less than three hours we had been cast forth from security and comfort, amidst cold, and nakedness, and watching, to face dangers and deaths in their most dismal aspect. It was my design to have remained by the wreck till dawn, in the hope—a hope, alas, that was not to be realized—that some friendly ship might be attracted by the burning to our rescue. But the boats were in danger of being stove, it being impossible at all times to prevent their chafing; and, ere long, the rope by which we were made fast to the wreck became burnt through, so that we were compelled to part even from the desolate companionship of the burning vessel,

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