Read Online A Brave Vessel: The True Tale of the Castaways Who Rescued Jamestown and Inspired Shakespeare'sThe Tempest by Hobson Woodward - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Hobson Woodward
Tags: British History
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instead of over the highest portion of a wave. Though the ship emerged on the other side still on the surface of the sea, the seawater passing over it tore aside canvas hatch covers and poured into the enclosed decks below. For a moment the hull of the ship was underwater.
“So huge a sea broke upon the poop and quarter, upon us, as it covered our ship from stern to stem like a garment or a vast cloud,” Strachey wrote. “It filled her brim-full for a while within, from the hatches up to the spardeck. The source or confluence of water was so violent, as it rushed and carried the helmsman from the helm and wrested the whipstaff out of his hand, which so flew from side to side that when he would have seized the same again it so tossed him from starboard to larboard as it was God’s mercy it had not split him, it so beat him from his hold and so bruised him.” The ship would probably have gone broadside to the waves and capsized had not another sailor wrestled the whipstaff under control.
As the water swept down into the gun deck, it hit Gates, Strachey, and others in the bailing lines, knocking Gates from a resting spot at the capstan. “It struck him from the place where he sat and groveled him and all us about him on our faces, beating together with our breaths all thoughts from our bosoms else than that we were now sinking,” Strachey said. “For my part, I thought her already in the bottom of the sea.” Despite the apparent futility of going topside, the people below scrambled to avoid being trapped in a sinking hull.
For a moment after the wave hit, the Sea Venture stood almost still. Since the wall of water had passed around the ship rather than underneath it, the ship did not mount the top of the swell and strike as the stern fell down the back of the wave. The pooped Sea Venture was momentarily stopped dead. In the halted ship Strachey recalled a classical account he once read about a parasitic tropical fish, called a remora, that survives by attaching itself to a shark with a suction mouth. Superstitious sailors believed the remora could also stick to a ship, grow to enormous size, and slow or stop its progress. “It so stunned the ship in her full pace,” Strachey said, “that she stirred no more than if she had been caught in a net, or than as if the fabulous remora had stuck to her forecastle.”
The image of the remora was fleeting and Strachey soon turned to other thoughts as the motion of the Sea Venture resumed. The people who made it up the ladders reported that the ship remained afloat and under control. The alarm abated and the direction of the traffic on the ladders reversed. The seawater on the gun deck drained through hatchways that led to the hold. While that made it possible to again move freely, the workers knew that the water in the hold was now higher than it had ever been. Yet they still lived, and the voyage would go on. The glassy-eyed men returned to their stations and began once again to pass the buckets and raise the levers of the pumps.
Through Wednesday and into Thursday the pumping and bailing continued, though the workers were near collapse. They knew, though, that if they stopped the ship would certainly sink. “There was not a passenger, gentleman or other, after he began to stir and labor but was able to relieve his fellow and make good his course,” Strachey said. “And it is most true, such as in all their lifetimes had never done hour’s work before (their minds now helping their bodies) were able twice forty-eight hours together to toil with the best.”
Strachey’s own fatigue was something he had never before experienced. His arms ached from passing the heavy buckets and his hands were raw. The adrenaline that initially charged his movements had long since drained from his veins and was replaced by an utter exhaustion. Still he pushed on with the work, more for the occupation of mind rather than from any real hope that death was not imminent in the hours to
“So huge a sea broke upon the poop and quarter, upon us, as it covered our ship from stern to stem like a garment or a vast cloud,” Strachey wrote. “It filled her brim-full for a while within, from the hatches up to the spardeck. The source or confluence of water was so violent, as it rushed and carried the helmsman from the helm and wrested the whipstaff out of his hand, which so flew from side to side that when he would have seized the same again it so tossed him from starboard to larboard as it was God’s mercy it had not split him, it so beat him from his hold and so bruised him.” The ship would probably have gone broadside to the waves and capsized had not another sailor wrestled the whipstaff under control.
As the water swept down into the gun deck, it hit Gates, Strachey, and others in the bailing lines, knocking Gates from a resting spot at the capstan. “It struck him from the place where he sat and groveled him and all us about him on our faces, beating together with our breaths all thoughts from our bosoms else than that we were now sinking,” Strachey said. “For my part, I thought her already in the bottom of the sea.” Despite the apparent futility of going topside, the people below scrambled to avoid being trapped in a sinking hull.
For a moment after the wave hit, the Sea Venture stood almost still. Since the wall of water had passed around the ship rather than underneath it, the ship did not mount the top of the swell and strike as the stern fell down the back of the wave. The pooped Sea Venture was momentarily stopped dead. In the halted ship Strachey recalled a classical account he once read about a parasitic tropical fish, called a remora, that survives by attaching itself to a shark with a suction mouth. Superstitious sailors believed the remora could also stick to a ship, grow to enormous size, and slow or stop its progress. “It so stunned the ship in her full pace,” Strachey said, “that she stirred no more than if she had been caught in a net, or than as if the fabulous remora had stuck to her forecastle.”
The image of the remora was fleeting and Strachey soon turned to other thoughts as the motion of the Sea Venture resumed. The people who made it up the ladders reported that the ship remained afloat and under control. The alarm abated and the direction of the traffic on the ladders reversed. The seawater on the gun deck drained through hatchways that led to the hold. While that made it possible to again move freely, the workers knew that the water in the hold was now higher than it had ever been. Yet they still lived, and the voyage would go on. The glassy-eyed men returned to their stations and began once again to pass the buckets and raise the levers of the pumps.
Through Wednesday and into Thursday the pumping and bailing continued, though the workers were near collapse. They knew, though, that if they stopped the ship would certainly sink. “There was not a passenger, gentleman or other, after he began to stir and labor but was able to relieve his fellow and make good his course,” Strachey said. “And it is most true, such as in all their lifetimes had never done hour’s work before (their minds now helping their bodies) were able twice forty-eight hours together to toil with the best.”
Strachey’s own fatigue was something he had never before experienced. His arms ached from passing the heavy buckets and his hands were raw. The adrenaline that initially charged his movements had long since drained from his veins and was replaced by an utter exhaustion. Still he pushed on with the work, more for the occupation of mind rather than from any real hope that death was not imminent in the hours to
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