All hands had rushed on deck, and clung to rails and stays and whatever else afforded a hold.  Among those who staggered from the companion way was a tall thin man, spectacled, with iron-grey hair and beard, and somewhat rounded shoulders.  Linking arms with him was a young man of twenty-two or twenty-three:  the likeness between them proclaimed them father and son.  The older man was Dr. Thesiger Smith, the famous geologist, in furtherance of whose work the Albatross was making this voyage.  The younger man was his second son Tom, who, after a distinguished career at Cambridge, had come out to act as his father’s assistant.

Underhill knew by the jerking and grinding he felt beneath him that his ill-fated vessel was being slowly forced over the reef towards the shore.  His first lieutenant, Venables, crawled up to the bridge, and, bawling into his ear, asked if anything could be done.  The lieutenant shook his head.

“Water’s within two feet of the upper deck forward, sir,” shouted Venables; “abaft it is three feet above the keelson.”

“Get the lifebuoys,” was the brief reply.

Venables crawled down again, and with the assistance of some of the crew unlashed the lifebuoys and distributed them among the company.  Meanwhile the progress of the vessel shorewards had been suddenly checked.  She came up with a jerk, and Underhill guessed that her nose had stuck fast in a hollow of the reef, and prayed that the storm would abate for just so long as would enable him to get the boats clear and make for the land before the ship broke up.  But for a good half-hour longer the hurricane blew with undiminished force, and it was as much as every man could do to avoid being washed away by the mountainous seas that broke over the vessel.

At length, however, there came a sudden change.  The uproar ceased as by magic, and there fell a dead calm.  Underhill was not deceived.  He judged that the vessel was now in the centre of the cyclone; the calm might last for forty or fifty minutes, then a renewal of the hurricane was almost certainly to be expected.  Without the loss of a moment he gave his orders.  The boats were made ready; into one they put arms, ammunition, and tools, together with the ship’s papers and chronometer, a compass, and Dr. Thesiger Smith’s specimens and diaries; into the other more ammunition, and a portion of what provisions could be collected from above or below water.  The boats were lowered, the men dropped into them and pulled off, leaving Underhill and two or three of the crew still on the vessel to collect the remainder of the provisions and whatever else seemed worth saving.  The sea was so high that the boats had much difficulty in making the shore; but they reached it safely, and one of them, after being rapidly unloaded, returned for the commander.