A NIGHT OF HORROR.

New Zealand Mail, Issue 24, 8 July 1871, Page 15

A NIGHT OF HORROR.

TEREIBLE STOBM AT SEA. Tlie following account of a terrible storm in the Atlantic is not only possessed of a melancholy interest in itself, hut that interest is enhanced, in this instance, by the fact that the second mate, who behaved with so much seamanship and bravery is Mr Finlay, well known and deservedly respected in Wanganui, as the captain at one time of the little cutter the Patea. We quote from the " New York Sun" :•—" The steamship Europa from Glasgow for this port on the 25th of February, with 195 steerage and 10 cabin passengers. She experienced squally weather during the first few days, which increased to a strong gale from the west, with sleet and heavy cross sea on March 1. Next day (Thursday) at noon another strong gale blew up from the south-west, accompanied by a heavy cross sea. At 11 p m. the wind checked to the west, followed by another gale from the west-north-west, with heavy cross seas. This continued all night, but on the next morning another fresh gale sprang up from the west, which necessitated the double reefing of all the sails. Toward evening the gale increased in fury, and the vessel wasput under very slow steam. The scene at 8 o'clock was awfuL The vessel had reached lat. 48.30 north, and long. 38.50 west. It was as dark as pitch, the horizon being overcast, and the air chilly with driving sleet and the dashing spray. The wind whistled through the rigging, and rushed against the side of the ship, which groaned and shivered at every blow. In all directions foamcrested waves, from seventy to eighty feet high, ran roaring upon the gallant vessel, threatening to crush her, but she rode it like a duck. M en waited and listened faces ; women sobbed and prayed, and little children huddled close to their parents in terror. Captain M'Donald, whenever he could snatch a moment from his duties on deck, strode about below with a smile on his face, laughing and joking away everybody's fears, and endeavoring to allay apprehension. At about half past eight the steerage and the intermediate passengers had been partially quieted, and the captain sat down in the midst of the cabin passengers, nearly all of whom had known him and sailed with him before, and began a conversation about old times. Everyone became interested, and in joking, and even laughing, they forgot the peril of the hour. At about 9.25 Captain MacDonald drew out his watch and excused himself, saying that it was time for him to go on deck, to give his final instructions for the night, as was his mates, as was his custom before going to bed. Turning to Mr Alexander D. Corson of No. 3, Bowling Green, New York, he said, " Corson, wouldn't you like to come up and take a look at the sea ?" Corson replied to the affirmative, and they started up the companion way together. It was the watch of the first and third mates, Messrs Davis and Waller. These officers were standing together on the bridge under a canvas awning which had been erected specially to protect them from the weather. The bridge was very stout and was braced with heavy iron stanchions and rails. When Captain M'Donald and Mr Corson reached the deck, the storm was at its greatest fury. The captain laughingly dared Mr Corson to go with him upon the bridge. Mr Corson accepted the challenge and the two started forward. They had barely reached the end of the deckhouse when the ship gave a sudden lurch to starbord, and Mr Corson's courage cooled. He said, " Captain, I guess I'll go back, as I have only got my slippers on." The captain laughed, and said " All right; go back then." Mr Corson shouted "Captain, take care of yourself!" and re-entered the cabin. He had hardly seated him self when he was startled by a tremendous crash, quickly followed by the hoarse yells of the seamen, " Help ! The captain's overboard !" Mr Corson sprang up the steps, and saw at a glance the full extent of the disaster. A tremendous sea had struck the bridge beneath the starboard side, twisting the horizontal iron railing into a perpendicular position, and tearing the planking like paper. This broke the wave, and its crest fell with a crash on the leeward side of the bridge, snapping the stanchtons and grinding that part of the floor-

ing into kindling wood. The almost solid mountain then bounded off into the sea again, staving in two boats and breaking the main-boom, having evidently turned a somersault in its passage. It overwhelmed the captain and mates, sweeping them far off into the deep. Startled by the cries of the sailors, Mr Finlay, the second mate, rushed upon deck in his undershirt and drawers. He bounded to the taffrail just in time to see three black specks disappearing in the darkness behind. Screaming to the men to throw out ropes and life-buoys, he sprang to the hatchway and signalled the engineer to stop the engine. The ship was speedily slowed and stopped, and the buoys and ropes were cast into the waves, but without avail. But the ship soon began to pay off in the trough of the sea, and Mr Finlay was compelled to move again slowly. A strict watch was kept out for the lost captain and mates, but all chance for rescuing them had gone—they had gone down in mid-ocean. The news of the disaster was carefully kept a secret from all but the cabin passengers. The remainder of the night was spent in prayers and tears. Even the bravest refused to occupy their state rooms, and lay down in their clothing in the saloon. Meantime the gale became a tornado. At mignight another wave struck the Europa, and she trembled from stem to stern. The hurricane continued through the night and all day on Sunday, Sunday night, and Monday, the vessel from necessity going under a very slow head of steam all the time. To add to the horror on the night of the disaster one of the intermediate passengers heard of the captain's death, and spread the story among his fellows. Next morning it was told to the steerage passengers, filling them with consternation. A kind of mutiny ensued, a mass indignation meeting was held, and a committee of two —one member selected from the intermediate, and one from the steerage passengers—was sent to Mr Finlay to demand that he should put into the nearest port. But the coolheaded, skilful officer quieted them after a while, and they soon became so well satisfied with the second mate's management of the ship that they clubbed together and raised twelve pound sterling., which they gave him yesterday morning with the warmest expressions of their thanks and esteem. From the disaster to yesterday (12th), when the Europa arrived at this port, Mr Finlay did not sleep twelve hours.