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Pirate Island: A Story of the South Pacific

<h3>Chapter Seven.</h3> <h4>A fiery ordeal.</h4> The chief and second mates had, when named by Captain Staunton, gone down upon the main deck; and upon the conclusion of the skipper’s address they at once marshalled their watches and led them to their proper stations. The third mate, boatswain, sailmaker, cook, steward, and apprentices were embodied with the chief mate’s gang, part of whom were told off to work the force-pump which was to feed the tank of the fire-engine, while the remainder were formed into line along the deck to pass buckets to the seat of the fire. The fire-engine, which had luckily been frequently in use at fire-drill, was in perfect order, and the men knowing exactly what to do, it was rigged and ready for action, with tank filled, the hose screwed on and laid along the deck, in a remarkably short time. Captain Staunton, on seeing that the men were cool and thoroughly under control, had immediately gone below again to rejoin the carpenter, whom he had left busily engaged in seeking the locality of the fire, of the actual existence of which he had no manner of doubt; indeed one had need only to go to the companion and breathe the heated and pungent atmosphere which ascended thence to have resolved any doubt he might have entertained upon the subject. “Oh, how dreadful!” exclaimed Blanche, turning with white quivering lips to Evelin, as the skipper disappeared below; “do you think there really is fire, Mr Evelin?” “It is quite impossible to say,” answered Evelin calmly, keeping to himself his own convictions; “but if there is, it cannot have yet gained much hold, and I daresay a half an hour or so of vigorous work with the fire-engine will effectually drown it out. And if it does not; if, looking at the matter in its worst possible light, the fire should after all get the upper hand and drive us out of the ship, the night is fine, and the water smooth enough to enable us easily and comfortably to take to the boats. Then the boats themselves are amply sufficient to take everybody without crowding; they are in perfect order and the best equipped boats I have ever seen; so that let what will happen, I think we need not alarm ourselves in the least. “I think, however,” he added, the other passengers having gathered round him, “that it could do no possible harm, and might be of advantage, supposing that the worst happens, if you ladies were to go to your berths and make up a package of your warmest clothing, together with any valuables you may have with you, so as to be in perfect readiness to leave the ship, if need be. But take matters quietly, I entreat you; for I sincerely hope it will prove that there is no necessity for any such decided step.” The two girls turned away, and went together to the cabin which they jointly occupied. Mrs Staunton had already followed her husband below; and Dale also hurried away, loudly bewailing his ill-luck in ever having embarked on board such an unfortunate vessel. “For heaven’s sake follow him, Fortescue, and stop his clamour!” exclaimed Lance; “he is enough to demoralise an entire regiment, let alone a small ship’s company like this.” Rex nodded, and followed his partner; seizing him by the arm and leading him aft, instead of allowing him to go below as he evidently intended: Just then the carpenter came on deck, and advancing to the break of the poop, shouted— “Pass along the hose, boys, and start the engine. There is a spark or two of something smouldering down below, but we’ll soon have it out.” The men stationed at the engine gave a ringing cheer and, one of them starting an inspiriting shanty, began at once to work away at the handles. “Well, this here’s a pretty go, ain’t it?” observed Brook, addressing himself to Evelin as the two stood together at the break of the poop, watching the men at work. “A most unfortunate circumstance,” replied Lance. “Luckily there are no signs whatever of anything approaching to panic; and if all keep as cool as they are at present, we may hope to get out of this difficulty one way or the other without mishap. You seem tolerably collected, Mr Brook; so perhaps there may be no harm in telling you that I fear matters are much more serious than they at present appear to be. All day to-day the saloon has appeared to me to be extraordinarily hot; and the presence of fire in the ship now sufficiently accounts for it. And if it has been burning for some time, it may prove to have obtained so strong a hold as to defy mastery. In such a case it behoves each one of us to set an example of quiet self-possession to all the rest. You behaved so nobly the other day during the gale that I think we may depend on you not to fail in that respect.” “Oh, I’m all right,” returned Brook. “I don’t believe in being put out about any think; I’m ready to help anywheres; and I’d begin at once if I knowed where I could do any good. And if the ‘governor’ (referring presumably to Mr Dale) makes any fuss, I shall roll ’im up in a blanket like a parcel and take care of ’im myself.” A thin vapour of smoke was by this time rising from the companion, accompanied by a strong and quite unmistakable smell of fire; and in a minute or two more Captain Staunton, in his shirt sleeves, appeared on deck and called forward for more water. “There is rather more of it than we at first thought, lads,” he said; “but stick steadily to your work and we’ll conquer it yet.” The gang at the fire-engine was rapidly relieved; a fresh shanty was struck up; the chain of men with buckets got to work; and the quickened clank clank of the engine handles showed that the crew were still confident and determined. “Now is our time,” exclaimed Lance to Brook; “cut in here,” as a rather wide gap in the chain of bucket-men revealed itself just at the head of the saloon staircase; and in another moment both were hard at work, with their coats off, passing buckets. Another twenty minutes might have elapsed when Captain Staunton and the carpenter staggered together up the saloon staircase to the deck, gasping for breath, their clothes and skin grimy with smoke, and the perspiration streaming down their faces. “Send two fresh hands below, if you please, Mr Bowles,” shouted the skipper; “and you, lads, drop your buckets, and lend a hand here to cut some holes in the deck; the fire is spreading forward, and we must keep it to this end of the ship if possible.” Two of the most determined of the crew at once stepped forward and volunteered to go below; Captain Staunton nodded his permission, and led them to the scene of their labours; while the chain of men who had been passing buckets along the deck dropped them, and, under the carpenter’s supervision, at once commenced the task of cutting through the deck. The smoke was by this time pouring in volumes up the companion and through the skylight. Lance had been too busy to take much notice of this whilst engaged in passing the buckets; but now that a respite came he had time to look about him. He saw the great dun cloud of smoke surging out of the companion and streaming away to leeward; and he saw indistinctly through it at intervals a small group gathered together aft by the weather taffrail. He thought he would join this group for a moment, if only to ascertain whether the girls had succeeded in securing such things as they were most anxious to save; and he sauntered toward them in his usual easy and deliberate manner. As he drew near Violet rose and said— “Oh, Mr Evelin! I am so glad you are come; I was beginning to feel quite anxious about Blanche—but where is she; I do not see her with you?” “She is not with me, Miss Dudley,” answered Lance; “what led you to suppose she would be?” “Not with you! Oh, Mr Evelin, where is she, then? If she is not with you she must still be in her cabin. I stayed there until the smoke was too thick to see or breathe any longer, and then I came on deck. I spoke to her, urging her to come also, and receiving no reply thought she had left without my noticing it; but she is not here anywhere.” The latter part of this speech never reached Lance’s ears, for, upon fully realising that Blanche—“his own sweet darling,” as he had called her in his inmost thoughts a thousand times—was missing, he darted to the companion-way and plunged down the stairs, three or four at a time, into the blinding pungent suffocating smoke which rushed momentarily in more and more dense volumes up through the opening. On reaching the foot of the staircase, he found that several of the planks had been pulled up to allow the men tending the hose to get below the saloon floor and approach as near as possible to the seat of the fire. So dense was the smoke just here that it was only by the merest chance he escaped falling headlong into the abyss. Catching sight, however, of the aperture just in time to spring across it, he did so; and glancing back for an instant on reaching the other side, he saw a broad expanse of glowing white-hot bales of wool, and, dimly through the acrid smoke and steam, the forms of the men who were plying the engine hose. Groping his way into the saloon, which was by this time so full of smoke that he could barely distinguish through it a feeble glimmer from the cabin lamp, he made his way in the direction of the state-room appropriated to Blanche and Violet. The smoke got into his eyes and made them water; into his throat and made him cough violently; into his lungs, producing an overpowering sense of suffocation, and impressing unmistakably upon him the necessity for rapidity and decision of movement. Blind, giddy, breathless, he staggered onward, groping for the handle of the state-room door. At length he found it, wrenched the door open, and rapidly felt with hands and feet about the floor and in each berth. No one there. Where then could Blanche be? She was not on deck, and it was hardly probable she could have fallen overboard. Then as he hastily began the search anew his foot kicked against something on the floor, which he at once picked up. It was a boot—a man’s boot unmistakably, from its size and weight. This at once satisfied him that in the obscurity he had groped his way into the wrong state-room; and he must prosecute his search further. But he was suffocating. Already his brain began to reel; there was a loud humming in his ears; his eyes ached and felt as though they would burst out of their sockets; and he found his strength ebbing away like water. Should he at once prosecute his search further? That seemed physically impossible. But if Blanche were in that fatal atmosphere she must soon die, if not dead already. And if he left the cabin to obtain a breath of fresh air was he not likely to go astray again, and lose still more precious time? No; the search must be proceeded with at once; and, reeling like a drunken man, Lance felt for the state-room door, staggered into the saloon, and felt along the bulkhead for the handle of the next door. Oh, heavens! what a search that was. His head felt as though it would burst; he gasped for breath, and inhaled nothing but hot pungent smoke; the saloon seemed to be miles instead of yards in length. Thank God! at last; the handle is found and turned, and the door flung open. Lance, with the conviction that unless he can escape in a very few seconds he will die, gropes wildly round and into the berths. Ah! what is this? Something coiled-up at the foot of the bottom berth. A human body! A woman! Lance grasps it tightly in his arms; stumbles out through the door with it, along the saloon, through the passage. A roaring as of a thousand thunders is in his ears; stars innumerable dance before his eyes; he sees as in a dream the yawning gulf in the floor; a broad glare of fierce white light reels madly to and fro before him; a confused sound of hoarse voices strikes upon his ear; he feels that the end is come—that he is dying; but with a last supreme effort he staggers up the saloon staircase to the deck, turns instinctively to windward out of the smoke, and with his precious burden still tightly clasped in his arms, falls prostrate and senseless to the deck. Rex Fortescue, who had been present when Violet spoke to Lance of Blanche’s absence, and who had witnessed the hasty departure of his friend upon his perilous search, was at the head of the companion, on his way below, having grown anxious at Lance’s prolonged absence, when the latter reappeared on deck; and assistance having been hastily summoned, the pair who had so nearly met their deaths from suffocation were, with some little difficulty, at length restored to consciousness. Meanwhile, it had become apparent to Captain Staunton that the fire was of a much more serious character than he had anticipated, and that it was every minute assuming more formidable proportions. He therefore at length decided, as a precautionary measure, to get the boats into the water without further delay. He was anxious more particularly about the launch and pinnace, as these boats were stowed over the main hatch and would have to be hoisted out by means of yard-tackles. This would be a long and difficult operation, the ship being under jury-rig; and should the fire attack the heel of the main-mast before these craft were in the water, the two largest and safest boats in the ship might be seriously damaged, if not destroyed, in the process of launching, or perhaps might defy the unaided efforts of the crew to launch them at all. There would be no difficulty about the other boats, as they could be lowered from the davits. The mates were busy superintending and directing the efforts of their respective gangs towards the extinguishing of the fire; Captain Staunton, therefore, after a moment or two of anxious deliberation, confided to Bob the important duty of provisioning and launching the boats, giving him as assistants the cook, steward, and two able seamen, and soliciting also the aid of the male passengers. Now it happened that the Galatea’s boats were somewhat different in character from the boats usually to be found on board ship. Captain Staunton had, when quite a lad, been compelled, with the rest of the ship’s company of which he was then a junior and very unimportant member, to abandon the ship and take to the boats in mid-ocean; and he then learnt a lesson which he never forgot, and formed ideas with respect to the fitting of boats which his nautical friends had been wont to rather sneer at and stigmatise as “queer.” But when the Galatea was in process of fitting out he had, with some difficulty, succeeded in persuading his owners to allow him to carry out these ideas, and the boats were fitted up almost under his own eye. The chief peculiarity of the boats lay in their keels. These were made a trifle stouter than usual, and of ordinary depth. But they were so shaped and finished that a false keel some eight or nine inches deep could be securely fastened on below in a very few minutes. This was managed by having the true keel bored in some half a dozen places along its length, and the holes “bushed” with copper. The copper bushes projected a quarter of an inch above the upper edge of the keel, and were so finished as to allow of copper caps screwing on over them, thus effectually preventing the flow of water up through the bolt-holes into the interior of the boat. The false keel was made to accurately fit the true keel, and was provided with stout copper bolts coinciding in number and position with the bolt-holes in the true keel. To fix the false keel all that was necessary was to unscrew the caps from the top of the “bushes,” apply the false to the true keel, pushing the bolts up through their respective holes, and set them up tight by means of thumb-screws. The whole operation could be performed in a couple of minutes, and the boats were then fit to beat to windward to any extent. As far as the gigs were concerned (with the exception of the whaleboat gig, which was an exquisitely modelled boat, fitted with air-chambers so as to render her self-righting and unsinkable), beyond greater attention than usual to the model of the craft, this was the only difference which Captain Staunton had thought it necessary to make between the boats of the Galatea and those of other ships; but in the cases of the launch and pinnace he had gone a step further, by fitting them with movable decks in sections, which covered in the boats forward and aft and for about a foot wide right along each side. These decks were bolted down and secured with thumb-screws to beams which fitted into sockets under the gunwale; and when the whole was once fixed each section contributed to keep all immovably in place. The decking being but light it was not difficult to fix, and in an hour after the order was given to launch the boats, the launch and pinnace were in the water alongside, and the gigs hanging at the davits ready to lower away at a moment’s notice. Thanks also to Captain Staunton’s never-ceasing care with regard to the boats, they were all in perfect condition, and not leaky as baskets, as are too many boats when required to be lowered upon an unexpected emergency. The gigs and the launch were regularly half-filled with water every morning before the decks were washed down, and emptied at the conclusion of that ceremony; while the pinnace, which was stowed bottom-up in the launch, was liberally soused with water at the same time. In addition to this the proper complement of oars and rowlocks, the stretchers, boat-hook, mop, baler, anchor, rudder, yoke, and tiller, together with the compass, masts, and sails, were always stowed in the boat to which they belonged, and were carefully overhauled once every week under the skipper’s own eye. Thus, on the present occasion, there was none of that bewildered running about and searching high and low for the boats’ gear; it was all at hand and ready for use whenever it might be wanted; there was nothing therefore to do but to make sure that each boat was amply provisioned. This, the launch and pinnace being safely in the water, was Bob’s next task, to which he devoted himself coolly but with all alacrity. The boats’ water-breakers, which were slung, ready filled, between the fore and after gallows, under two of the gigs (each breaker bearing painted upon it the name of the boat to which it belonged), were cast adrift and passed into their proper boats as they were lowered, and then followed as large a quantity of provisions as could possibly be stowed away without too much encumbering the movements of the occupants. Meanwhile the scuppers had all been carefully plugged up, the decks pierced, and all hands set to work with buckets, etcetera, to flood them, and still the fire increased in volume. It was 11:30 p.m. by the time that the boats were veered astern, fully equipped, and ready to receive their human freight; and at midnight the main-mast fell, flames at the same time bursting up through the saloon-companion and skylight. Upon perceiving this it became evident to Captain Staunton that it was quite hopeless to further prolong the fight; the crew had been for four hours exerting themselves to their utmost capacity, with the fire gaining steadily upon them the whole time; they were now completely exhausted, and the fire was blazing furiously almost throughout the devoted ship; he therefore considered he had done his full duty and was now quite justified in abandoning the unfortunate Galatea to her fiery doom. He accordingly gave orders for the crew to desist from their efforts, to collect their effects, and to muster again upon the quarter-deck with all possible expedition. The men needed no second bidding, they saw that the moments of the good ship were numbered; and, throwing down whatever they happened to have in their hands, they made a rush for the forecastle, and there, in the midst of the already blinding and stifling smoke, proceeded hurriedly to gather together their few belongings. In less than five minutes all hands were collected in the waist, waiting the order to pass over the side. The boats had meanwhile been hauled alongside, and the ladies, with little May, carefully handed into the launch. This, when the attempt came to be made, proved a task of no little difficulty, for the ship’s sides were found to be so hot that it was impossible to touch them. However, by the exercise of great caution it was accomplished without mishap; and then the male passengers were ordered down over the side, Rex and Lance going into the launch with the ladies, while Dale and Brook were told off to the pinnace. The crew were then sent down; each man as he passed over the rail being told what boat he was to go into. Mr Bowles was appointed to the command of the pinnace, and Mr Dashwood was ordered to take charge of the whaleboat gig, with six hands as his crew. The passengers and crew of the Galatea were distributed thus:— The launch, under the command of Captain Staunton, carried Mrs Staunton, her little daughter May, Violet Dudley, Blanche Lascelles, the bosom friends Rex and Lance, Bob and his three fellow apprentices, and the steward—twelve in all. The pinnace, commanded by Mr Bowles, had on board Mr Forester Dale, Brook, the carpenter, the sailmaker, and two of the seamen, numbering seven all told. The whaleboat gig, the smartest boat of the fleet, was manned, as already stated, by Mr Dashwood and six picked hands; she was to act as tender to the launch. The second gig, of which the boatswain was given charge, carried the remainder of the crew, five in number, or six including the boatswain. Captain Staunton was of course the last man to leave the ship, and it was not until the moment had actually arrived for him to do so that the full force of the calamity appeared to burst upon him. Up to that moment he had been working harder than any other man on board; and whilst his body had been actively engaged, his mind was no less busy devising expedients for the preservation of the noble ship with the lives and cargo which she carried, and for the safety of all of which he was responsible. But now all that was done with; the ship and cargo were hopelessly lost, and the time had come when they must be abandoned to their fate. It was true that many precious lives were still, as it were, held in his hands; that upon his skill and courage depended to a very large extent their preservation; but that was a matter for the future—the immediate future, no doubt, but at that supreme moment Captain Staunton seemed unable to think of anything but the present—that terrible present in which he must abandon to the devouring flames the beautiful fabric which had borne them all so gallantly over so many thousand leagues of the pathless ocean, through light and darkness, through sunshine and tempest, battling successfully with the wind and the wave in their most unbridled fury, to succumb helplessly at last under the insidious attack of that terrible enemy fire. <ANTIMG src="images/pisle113.jpg" alt=""> The last of the crew had passed down over the side and had been received into the boat to which he was appointed; the boats had all (excepting the launch) shoved off from the ship’s side and retired to a distance at which the fierce heat of the victorious flames were no longer a discomfort, and it was now high time that the skipper himself should also leave. The flames were roaring and leaping below, above, and around him; the scorching air was surging about him, torrents of sparks were whirling around him, yet he seemed unable to tear himself away. There he stood in the gangway, his head bare, with his cap in his hand, and his eyes roving lingeringly and lovingly fore and aft, and then aloft to the blazing spars and sails. At length the fore-mast was seen to tremble and totter, it wavered for a moment, and then with a crash and in a cloud of fiery sparks plunged hissing over the side, the opposite side, fortunately, to that on which the launch lay. This aroused Captain Staunton; he gazed about him a single moment longer in a dazed bewildered way, and then, as the ship rolled and the launch rose upon a sea, sprang lightly down into the boat, and in a voice stern with emotion, gave the order to shove off. “Oh, papa,” cried little May, “I’s so glad you’s come; I sought you weren’t coming;” and the sweet little creature threw her arms lovingly about her father’s neck. Do not deem him unmanly that he hid his eyes for a moment on his child’s shoulder, perchance to pray for her safety in the trials, the troubles, and the dangers which now lay before them. Then handing the little one back to her mother, he hailed in a cheery voice the rest of the boats to close round the launch as soon as she had withdrawn to a safe distance. In a few minutes the little fleet lay on their oars close together, at a distance of about a hundred yards from the blazing ship. Captain Staunton then in a few well-chosen words first thanked all hands for the strenuous efforts they had made to save the ship; and then explained to them his plans for the future. He proposed in the first place, he said, to remain near the Galatea as long as she floated; because if any other craft happened to be in their neighbourhood, her crew would be certain to notice the light of the fire and bear down to see what it meant, in which case they would be spared the necessity for a long voyage in the boats. But if no friendly sail appeared within an hour or two of the destruction of their own ship, it was his intention to continue in the boats the course to Valparaiso which they had been steering when the fire broke out. By his reckoning they were a trifle over eighteen hundred miles from this port—a long distance, no doubt; but he reminded them that they were in the Pacific, and might reasonably hope for moderately fine weather; their boats were all in perfect order, well supplied, and in good sailing trim, instead of being loaded down to the gunwale, as was too often the case when a crew were compelled to abandon their ship; and he believed that, unless some unforeseen circumstance occurred to delay them, they could make the passage in a fortnight. And finally he expressed a hope that all hands would maintain strict discipline and cheerfully obey the orders of their officers, as upon this would to a very great extent depend their ultimate safety. His address was responded to with a ringing cheer; after which the occupants of the various boats subsided into silence and sat watching the burning ship. The Galatea was by this time a mass of flame fore and aft. Her masts were gone, her decks had fallen in, and her hull above water was in several places red-hot; while as she rolled heavily on the long swell, burying her heated sides gunwale-deep in the water, great clouds of steam rose up like the smoke of a broadside, and hid her momentarily from view. The fire continued to blaze more and more fiercely as it spread among the cargo, until about a couple of hours after the boats had left the ship, when the intense and long-continued heat appeared to cause some rivets to give way, or to destroy some of the iron plates; for a great gap suddenly appeared in the Galatea’s side, a long strip of plating curling up and shrivelling away like a sheet of paper, and momentarily revealing the white-hot contents of the glowing told; then the water poured in through the orifice; there was a sudden upbursting of a vast cloud of steam accompanied by a mighty hissing sound; the hull appeared to writhe like a living thing in mortal agony; and then—darkness upon the face of the waters. The scorched and distorted shell of iron which had once been as gallant a ship as ever rode the foam was gone from sight for ever. <hr></div> <div class="bodytext"> <div style="break-after:column;"></div>

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