Poor Jack eBook

This eBook from the Gutenberg Project consists of approximately 539 pages of information about Poor Jack.

Poor Jack eBook

This eBook from the Gutenberg Project consists of approximately 539 pages of information about Poor Jack.
to prevent falling back inboard; and perceiving a woman struggling at the port, I caught hold of her, dragged her out, and threw her from me.  The ship was now lying down so completely on her larboard broadside that the heads of the men in the ports disappeared all at once; they all dropped back into the ship, for the port-holes were now upright, and it was just as if men were trying to get out of the tops of so many chimneys, with nothing for their feet to purchase upon.  Just after the men fell inboard, there came a rush of air through the ports, so violent as to blow my hat off.  It was the air from the hold and lower deck, which, having no other vent, escaped as the water which poured in took up its space.  The ship then sunk in a moment, righting as she went down.  I was a good swimmer and diver, and when she was sinking I attempted to keep above water, but it was impossible; I was drawn down with the ship until she reached the bottom.  As soon as she grounded, the water boiled and bubbled a great deal, and then I found that I could swim, and began to rise to the surface.  A man tried to grapple me as I went up; his forefinger caught in my shoe, between the shoe and my foot.  I succeeded in kicking off my shoe, and thus got rid of him, and then I rose to the surface of the water.”

“Take breath after that, Jim,” said Ben, handing him the ale.

“I can tell you that I could hardly take breath when I came to the surface, for my head came up through a quantity of tar, which floated like fat on a boiler, and it nearly smothered me; for, you see, there had been one or two casks of tar on the decks, which had stove when the ship was going down, and the tar got up to the top of the water before I did.  It prevented me from seeing at first, but I heard the guns firing as signals of distress.”  Here Turner drank some ale.

“Well,” said he, after a short pause, “I may as well finish my story.  As soon as I could clear the tar from my eyes, I saw the main topsail halyard-block about level with the water’s edge about eight or ten yards from me; so I swam to it and rode on it, holding on by the halyards, and then I looked about me.  The fore, main, and mizzentops were all above water, as was a part of the bowsprit, and also part of the ensign-staff, with the flag hoisted—­for, you see, messmates, we went down in only thirteen and a half fathom water, that is, about eighty feet; and, as I said before, she measured sixty-six feet from the keelson up to the taffrail; and she grounded as nearly upright as a vessel could; for the lighter, which was fast to leeward when she went down, caught the main yard, which helped to right her as she sank—­but the lighter went down with her.  Well, as I looked round, I saw the admiral’s baker in the mizzen shrouds, and there was the body of the woman I had dragged out of the port rolling about close to him.  The baker was an Irishman, of the name of Claridge; and I called out to him, ’Bob, reach out your hand and catch hold of that woman, I daresay she is not dead.’

Copyrights
Project Gutenberg
Poor Jack from Project Gutenberg. Public domain.