THREE IRISH FISHERMEN" ADRIFT IN MID-OCEAN.

New Zealand Tablet, Volume IV, Issue 205, 9 March 1877, Page 3

THREE IRISH FISHERMEN" ADRIFT IN MID-OCEAN.

Thb Old Dominion, of the Old Dominion Steamship Company, arrived at New York last week, having on board seventeen men, fourteen of whom are Italians and three natives of Ireland, who have strange stories to tell of the recent storms at sea. The Irishmen have a strange story to relate. One of the three, Michael Moran, a well-built and hearty-looking man, made the following statement : — "We are fishermen of a little village named Claddagh, near Galway, and but a short distance from where Father Burke resides. We are in the habit of going out to catch fish, which we sell in Galway. In this way we support our families. That young man there (pointing to one of his companions) is Michael Smith, who has been married but a few months. The other man is my father, Patrick Moran. He is eighty-six years old. lam the father of a family of five. We are all most anxious to return to Ireland. I was the captain of a fishing smack, or hooker, named the St. Patrick. Thinking that we might make a good haul of herrings, with Michael Smith, Patrick Moran, and my uncle, John Moran, I Bet sail in our nine-ton hooker on Monday, the 4th November, and made for Sline Head, about sixty mile from Galway, where we thought the fishing would be good. We had no extra good fortune, and at night foggy weather overtook us. The wind sprang up, blowing a perfect hurricane. My post was at the helm, where my hands became frozen. On Tuesday night the boat was half filled with water. It is our custom to light turf on Betting out, and keep the fire going. The water put it out. Although we had potatoes and fresh fish, we had no means to cook them. We were four days and four nights without eating. In order to break the speed with which we were being driven we lowered a basket filled with stones and endeavored to heave to, but the cable broke on Friday morning. We could not, previous to this, reach any sounding. About this time my uncle, John Moran, aged ninety-six, while we were asleep, towards morning, must have **een drowned by the lurching of the ship throwing him into the ' t^ T ' ■^ an ? ra^ e we could discover no trace of him. 4f^When 150 miles out we were picked up by a Swedish bark, the Gorgian, Capt. P. Olsen, bound for Hampton Roads. The ice drove the vessel into Norfolk, where we arrived on the 6th inst. I am not a stranger to America, having been here about thirteen years ago. I have served on the Shenandoah. My father was also here twenty-five years ago, being engaged in shad fishing at Fort Lee. We are totally destitute of clothing, and have no means. We intend to see the British Consul to-morrow. We hav3 acquaintances here, but do not know where they live." " The grace o' God was wid us," said old Patrick Moran, after he had finished telling the story of his thrilling adventure on the hooker St. Patrick. " When I left America five and twinty years ago, sorra one o' me thought it's this way I'd be comin' back again. It's hard tellin' what'll come to a man afore he dies," and the old man shook his head in a " wirra, wirra" way. As ttie complete story of the adventure of Moran and his companions has not yet bien toM, it miy be well just he -e to give it in full, as it fell from the lips of the Galway ancient muriner. The old man was sitting on a low stool ne ir the bng'it fire of his boardinghouse, in Hamilton Street, New York, when the reporter met him. The dreadful ordeal through which he has bo recently passed has left

its mark, and old Moran is now, indeed, a wreck. During the four days of exposure off the Irish coast he contracted a severe cold on the lungs, and now he coughs most violently. In being transferred from the hooker to the Swedish bark Gorgian, he was hit against the rail and injured ''inside," as his son expresses it. "The first night we \rur out," he began, 'the weather wu always good, and we set the nets near Sline Head. That was on tho fourth of Norimber, and that same night the wind began to blow, and bio wed always from the east. We tried to work back agin, butalwaj* the wind thrun us out to the west. We let go the mainsail, and phe wint afore the wind wid a double reef in her fo'sail. We cudint git sight or sign o' the sun, aud we sailin' fortnint the wind always to the west. The second night we saw pltnty lights, but they was jack-o-lanterns, and kern to draw us out into the ocean. The third day the sea was so high that the water all came aboord the hooker, and we were kilt bailin' her. I had a pan and young Smith had a gallon measure, but we cudint keep her impty. In the night we w%s all huggin' one another be the way we'd get warm. On the mornin' of the fourth day — G-od bless the light that brought it — we saw a bark, and they tuck us aboord." Here the reporter questioned the old man as to what he had eaten during the four days, and the story c >ntinued. " We'd praties and fish, but the fire was put out be the water and we cuddint cook thim. I tried a raw one, but shure raw praties is no atin' for a workin' man. We wur famished, and sorra one o* me knows what ud a happined if we didn't meet the bark. You wur axin abont me brother, and how ho was kilt. We dunno where he wint. We all fell asleep for want of sleep, and when we woke he wasn't aboord the boat. I think he wa3 drownded. — ' Pilot.'