George III
Dec. 28th, 2007 07:55 pmThe ship slipped on quietly into the night. In the hospital the surgeon could hear the monotonous droning voice of the leadsman in the chains.
Then suddenly this monotonous droning became louder, with a note of warning. The sea had swiftly shoaled, with no apparent cause.
"Heave quick!" called the captain.
"A quarter less four," came the leadsman's ill omened answer. The water was shoaling fast. Yet the land was two miles away on the nearer side.
"Hard aport! Hard aport!" was the captain's next command.
"Hard a--", the helmsman began to answer as he feverishly leapt to swing around the spokes. He never completed that answer, for before he had time to do so the ship, with a horrid, tearing sound of timbers torn into protesting pieces was on the rocks.
"My God!" shrieked Captain Moxey. But no one heard him save the sea fowl and the convicts.
There had been nothing to mark that rock--no broken water, no greasy swirling of the sea, nothing at all.
(A. J. Villiers, Vanished Fleets, 1931)
( The rest of the story )
Then suddenly this monotonous droning became louder, with a note of warning. The sea had swiftly shoaled, with no apparent cause.
"Heave quick!" called the captain.
"A quarter less four," came the leadsman's ill omened answer. The water was shoaling fast. Yet the land was two miles away on the nearer side.
"Hard aport! Hard aport!" was the captain's next command.
"Hard a--", the helmsman began to answer as he feverishly leapt to swing around the spokes. He never completed that answer, for before he had time to do so the ship, with a horrid, tearing sound of timbers torn into protesting pieces was on the rocks.
"My God!" shrieked Captain Moxey. But no one heard him save the sea fowl and the convicts.
There had been nothing to mark that rock--no broken water, no greasy swirling of the sea, nothing at all.
(A. J. Villiers, Vanished Fleets, 1931)
( The rest of the story )
