Its crew consisted of thirteen people, ten of whom got into the boat, leaving the master, who thought himself safer in the ship, with two others of the crew.
The boat put off from the ship, keeping as much out of the breakers as it could, and looking out for a favourable place for landing. The people on shore followed the boat for several miles, urging them not to attempt landing. But not a single word was audible by the boat's crew, who, after rowing several miles, resolved to take advantage of the first favourable lull. They did so—the boat was knocked to pieces, and the whole crew were drowned. If the people on the shore could at that moment have communicated with the boat's crew, they could have informed them that, by continuing their course for half a mile further, they might turn into a cove, and land almost dry.
I was much impressed by the want of easy communication between stranded vessels and those on shore who might rescue them.
I can even now scarcely believe it credible that the very simple means I am about to mention has not been adopted years ago. A list of about a hundred questions, relating to directions and inquiries required to be communicated between the crew of a stranded ship and those on shore who wish to aid it, would, I am told, be amply sufficient for such purposes. Now, if such a list of inquiries were prepared and printed by competent authority, any system of signals by which a number of two places of figures can be expressed might be used. This list of inquiries and answers ought to be printed on cards, and nailed up on several parts of every vessel. It would be still better, by conference with other maritime nations, to adopt the same system of signs, and to have them printed in each language. A looking-glass, a board with a hole in it, and a
