On one of our cruises, however, we had been working up
all morning to the southward of the Pedro shoals, with the wind strong
at east, a hard fiery sea--breeze. We had hove--about, some three hours
before, and were standing in towards the land, on the starboard tack,
when the look--out at the masthead hailed.
"The water shoals on the weather bow, sir;" and presently, "breakers
right ahead."
"Very well," I replied--"all right."
"We are nearing the reefs, sir," said I, walking aft and addressing
Captain Transom; "shall we stand by to go about, sir?"
"Certainly--heave in stays as soon as you like, Mr Cringle."
At this moment the man aloft again sung out--"There is a wreck on the
weather most point of the long reef, sir."
"Ay! what does she look like?"
"I see the stumps of two lower masts, but the bowsprit is gone, sir--I
think she must be a schooner or a brig, sir."
The Captain was standing by, and looked up to me, as I stood on the long
eighteen at the weather--gangway.
"Is the breeze not too strong, Mr Cringle?"
I glanced my eye over the side--"Why, no, sir--a boat will live well
enough--there is not so much sea in shore here."
"Very well--haul the courses up, and heave--to."
It was done.
"Pipe away the yawlers, boatswain's mate."
The boat over the lee--quarter was lowered, and I was sent to
reconnoitre the object that had attracted our attention. As we
approached, we passed the floating swollen carcasses of several
bullocks, and some pieces of wreck; and getting into smooth water, under
the lee of the reef, we pulled up under the stem of the shattered hull
which lay across it, and scrambled on deck by the boat tackles, that
hung from the davits, as if the jolly--boat had recently been lowered.
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