A few minutes later he rose and went on deck to look around.  The cry of “Breakers ahead!” had nothing alarming in it to him, so he had not hurried; but one quick glance showed him that the ship was doomed, for the breakers were not a quarter of a cable’s-length away, and the inset of the swell was rapidly hurrying the ship to destruction.  Two minutes later a mountain sea lifted the Porpoise high, and took her among the roaring surf.  In another moment she struck the coral reef with a thud that shook her timbers from keel to bulwarks; then the ship fell over on her beam ends in the savage turmoil, her deck facing inshore.  So sudden was the catastrophe that no one could fire a gun for help or for warning to the other ships, which were following closely.  As the ship rolled over on her beam ends, huge, thundering seas leapt upon and smothered her, and the darkness of the night was accentuated by the white foam and spume of the leaping surf.  In a few moments the foremast went, the bottom was stove in, and all hope was abandoned; and then during a momentary lull in the crashing breakers they saw the Cato and Bridgewater running directly down upon the Porpoise.  For some seconds a breathless, horror-struck silence reigned; then a shout arose as the two transports shaved by the stricken ship and were apparently saved.

But their rejoicing was premature, for a minute or two later the Cato struck upon an outlying spur of the reef, not a cable-length away.  Like the Porpoise, she at once fell over on her side, but with her deck facing the sweeping rollers, and each succeeding wave spun her round and round like a top and swept her fore and aft.  The Bridgewater escaped, and a light air enabled her to stand to the north out of danger.

Flinders at once took command on the Porpoise, a small gig was lowered to leeward, and with half a dozen men, two odd, short oars, and shoes and hats for balers, he set out to struggle through the breakers to a calm ring of water beyond, where they might find a sandbank to land upon, or get within hailing distance of the Bridgewater.  Meanwhile Fowler was thinking of lightening the Porpoise and letting her drive further up on the reef; but fear was expressed that she might be carried over its inside edge, and founder in 17 fathoms of water.  The two cutters were launched, and stood by under the lee of the ship throughout the long, weary night in case she broke up.  At intervals of half an hour, blue lights flared over the dismal scene, and lit up the strained, white faces of those watching for the lights of the ship that was safe, and which, either not seeing or not heeding their distress, had disappeared from view.

During the night the wind blew high and chill, the sea increased in fury, and the ship groaned and shuddered at each fresh onslaught.  Fowler, however, was hard at work constructing a raft, ready for launching at dawn, and his men, exhausted as they were, bore themselves as do most British seamen in the hour of death and danger.