The storm had an aftermath in the rescue of an Englishman, Captain B——­, a pearl fisher.  He was anchored under the lee of a small island in the sea between Panay and Masbate.  He was in a small lorcha, or sailing vessel, with no barometer, his glass having been left on a lorcha of larger tonnage, which was at another point.  The heavy wind caught them without warning almost, and its impact soon pressed the lorcha over.  Captain B——­ found himself struggling in the water—­able to swim, but drowning, as he expressed it, with the spindrift which was hurtling into his face.  He kept one arm going, and partially protected his face with the other.  Then in the inky dark he touched a human body.  It was the leg of one of his crew, four of whom were clinging to one of the lorcha’s boats.  It kept turning over and over, and they had to go with it each time.  Captain B——­ hung to the prow, so his circuit was not so wide as that of the others, but his body—­arms, legs, and chest—­was literally ploughed by the rough usage.  Once he let go and lost the prow as it came up, and the fright of this was enough to strengthen his hold.  They were in the water clinging to this all the rest of the night, the next day, and the next night.  One man died of exhaustion, and one went mad and let go.  On the second morning they succeeded in bailing it out by means of an undershirt, which Captain B——­ had been wearing, and which, though torn to ribbons across the front, was whole in the back.  They remained in the boat all day, beaten on by the tropical sun, having been thirty hours in the water without food or drink.

Captain B——­ said they were all a little mad.  They saw the Sam Shui—­the boat of the commanding officer of the Visayas—­in the distance, but were too low to be sighted by her.  They wore their finger ends down, tearing a plank off the side to use for an oar.  Meanwhile the current carried them down closer to the Panay coast, and on the third day they were close enough to fall in with one of the big fishing paraos. This carried them into Panay, a town five or six miles east of Capiz.  Captain B——­ had just strength to write a line or two and sign his name.  This was brought down to Capiz, and the constabulary officer on duty there went out immediately with a launch and brought him in.  He was in the military hospital a long time.  His attending physician said that between salt water and sun he had been literally flayed, and the flesh torn into ribbons and gouged by the impact of the boat.

The storm did frightful havoc all through the Visayas, and many lives were lost and vessels wrecked.  The Blanco as usual made harbor all right, but another little Capiz boat, the Josefina, went ashore, and her captain and several others were lost.  The adventurous One Lung was at Iloilo, and it was reported that she started out of the river without consulting her pilot, creating thereby general consternation among her sister craft.