A SAD STORY FROM THE SEA.

Hawke's Bay Times, Volume 16, Issue 828, 29 September 1870, Page 3

A SAD STORY FROM THE SEA.

A PECUiiAELY touching narrative of the foundering of a sloop and the loss of the captain's wife and five children, near Belfast Lough, is published by the Glasgow Herald of a recent date. Capt. Watson, who was the owner of the sloop Nelly, of Belfast, sailed from Ayr on Tuesday last, with his wife and whole household on board, depending only upon his two sons to assist him in working the vessel. There were on board the captain and his family—viz., Margaret Watson, his wife ; and his children, named William John, aged 14 years; Robert, aged 12 years; Jane, aged 10 years; Annie, 8 years; and Martha, 6 years. The entire family, it appears, have lived on board the vessel, either at sea or in harbor since July, 1869. Owing to stress of weather and adverse winds the sloop was compelled to put into Lambash Bay on Tuesday afternoon, where she remained till Friday forenoon, when the weather becoming fine with a fair wind, sail was set, and the craft proceeded down Channel. During the day, however, the weather became unsettled, and as the afternoon advanced, the wind, which had shifted to the north, began to blow very fresh, and towards nightfall a gale prevailed, accompanied by a heavy sea. The mainsail was reefed, and everything on board made as snug as possible, in the hope of the vessel being able to make Belfast Lough, but owing to the high sea which was running she began to labor very heavily. Still no danger was apprehended. The pump was regularly sounded and at 8 o'clock p.m. the vessel was found to be comparatively dry. About this hour Mrs Watson, accompanied by her three daughters, went below to her cabin, and the girls soon after retired to bed. During the period the mother and her daughters were below, however, the storm had increased in violence, while heavy seas broke on board. A portion of the bulwarks was earned away, and other damage was done on deck; but still no suspicion arose that the vessel had sprung a leak, the pump having been found "sucking" when last tried. Shortly before 9 o'clock, however, Mrs Watson appeared at the companion way in great alarm, and intimated that water was coming through the cabin floor. The pump was again sounded, when it was this time discovered that there were several feet of water in the hold. All efforts to reduce the leak having proved unavailing, and the storm continuing to rage with great violence, the husband went to the cabin and begged his wife to come on deck with the girls, who were sleeping in their berths. Shortly after 10 o'clock on Friday night, the sloop fell over on one side, and now it became evident that she was fast settling down. The distracted mother in the cabin was heard calling in agony of despair for help, but no help was near. The eldest boy ran aft to the companion way just before the vessel sank, and was heard by his father to cry, " 0, mother come on deck!" but she still refused. As no other voices were heard below, it is believed the three girls never awoke, but were drowned in their berths when the vessel foundered. The only boat on board the sloop was about 12 feet in length. The father got into this punt as the sloop was foundering, and called upon his two boys to follow him. The eldest lad, as already stated, ran aft to the cabin to call his mother, and upon returning to the place where the small boat lay on deck, he got entangled in some ropes or loose rigging, and before he could relieve himself the sloop sank and he was dragged down along with her. The younger son, Kobert, was standing on the rail of the vessel when she sank, and when the boat in which his father was seated floated, the latter called upon the boy to jump into the sea, and he would endeavor to save him. The father had only one oar on board the small boat and he threw it to the boy, which the latter managed to seize. Ultimately the father reached him and dragged him into the boat, but the oar got adrift and was not recovered. When the vessel disappeared, which took place shortly before 10 o'clock, and only about 6 miles from the entrance to Belfast Lough, no cries were heard on the surface of the water.

The father and son were now left alone in the fragile craft with neither oars, nor fresh water, nor provisions. Both father and son were thinly clad, and the night was intensely cold. Having no oars, the boat drifted all night at the mercy of the waves. The poor lad early began to suffer from the effects of cold and exposure. The

boat was very frequently filled by seas breaking over her, and it was with great difficulty the father managed to keep her afloat by means of a small tin baling dish which he discovered on board. Nearly all night the young lad lay in the bottom of the boat amongst the water. During the long dark hours the father did all in his power to cheer his son, but it became evident that, unless assistance soon reached them, the lad would perish from exhaustion. Several vessels were passed, but the cries of the castawaj s for help Were unheard. At daybreak the prospects of the father and son were of a scarcely less cheerless description. The sea was still running high, and as the wind continued to blow down channel, certain death appeared to await them both. About 10 o'clock on Saturday morning the boy, who from daybreak had been fast sinking, now became delirious. The reader may imagine but no words can describe the agony of mind Which the father must have felt at this moment as he saw the last member of his family lying raving mad at his feet, and no help near him. Around him there was nothing but heavy seas, which continued ever and anon to break over them, the bitterly cold wind appeared to increase in intensity. At the intervals of cessation from baling out the water, which was always more or less necessary to keep the boat afloat, the father would take the boy in his arms and nestle him in his breast, in the hope of infusing some heat into him, but again a wave would break and fill the tiny craft, and in consequence he had again to lay him down till he had baled out a portion of the water. The poor boy continued in a state of delirium till about 2 p.m. on Saturday, when death put an end to his sufferings. By this time the father was himself becoming very weak, and he reports that he felt conscious of his own mind beginning to give way. He laid the body of the boy out in the boat, reluctant to commit it to the deep.

About two hours after the lad died a vessel was discovered coming up Channel, and upon a broom handle, which was in the boat, the now only remaining survivor hoisted a signal, which was fortunately seen by those on board the ship, which bore down on him and saved him. The unfortunate man was pulled up about 5 miles south-east from the Mull of Galloway, after having drifted about 45 miles. He requested that the body of his boy should be taken to the ship's destination, which request wasgranted, and the corpse was brought to Greenock. The vessel proved to be the Norwegian brig Cuba, Captain Selmer, bound for Havana for Greenock, with a cargo of sugar. Every attention, and, indeed, as Watson himself reports, the greatest kindness was bestowed upon him. Watson, who besides losing his wife and family, has lost every shilling's worth of property which he possessed, was taken to the Greenock poorhouse during the afternoon, where he still remains. He is scarcely able to walk from the effects of the exposure. When asked why he did not consign the body of his son to the sea after he died, Watson answered with tears in his eyes, " The body of the boy was the last vestige of all that was dear to me in the world; if I was saved myself, I thought I would like to have the body of one of my family laid beneath the turf so that I might visit the spot again."