The Francis Spaight was running before it solely undera mizzentopsail， when the thing happened. It was not dueto carelessness so much as to the lack of discipline of thecrew and to the fact that they were indifferent seamenat best. The man at the wheel in particular， a Limerickman， had had no experience with salt water beyond thatof rafting timber on the Shannon between the Quebecvessels and the shore. He was afraid of the huge seas thatrose out of the murk astern and bore down upon him， andhe was more given to cowering away from their threatenedimpact than he was to meeting their blows with the wheeland checking the ship’s rush to broach to.
It was three in the morning when his unseamanlikeconduct precipitated the catastrophe. At sight of a sea farlarger than its fellows， he crouched down， releasing hishands from the spokes. The Francis Spaight sheered as herstern lifted on the sea， receiving the full fling of the capon her quarter. The next instant she was in the trough，her lee-rail buried till the ocean was level with her hatchcoamings，sea after sea breaking over her weather rail andsweeping what remained exposed of the deck with icydeluges.
The men were out of hand， helpless and hopeless， stupidin their bewilderment and fear， and resolute only in thatthey would not obey orders. Some wailed， others clungsilently in the weather shrouds， and still others mutteredprayers or shrieked vile imprecations； and neither captainnor mate could get them to bear a hand at the pumps orat setting patches of sails to bring the vessel up to thewind and sea. Inside the hour the ship was over on herbeam ends， the lubberly cowards climbing up her side andhanging on in the rigging. When she went over， the matewas caught and drowned in the after-cabin， as were twosailors who had sought refuge in the forecastle.
The mate had been the ablest man on board， and thecaptain was now scarcely less helpless than his men.
Beyond cursing them for their worthlessness， he didnothing； and it remained for a man named Mahoney，a Belfast man， and a boy， O’Brien， of Limerick， to cutaway the fore and main masts. This they did at greatrisk on the perpendicular wall of the wreck， sendingthe mizzentopmast overside along in the general crash.
The Francis Spaight righted， and it was well that shewas lumber laden， else she would have sunk， for she wasalready water-logged. The mainmast， still fast by theshrouds， beat like a thunderous sledge-hammer against theship’s side， every stroke bringing groans from the men.
Day dawned on the savage ocean， and in the cold graylight all that could be seen of the Francis Spaight emergingfrom the sea were the poop， the shattered mizzenmast，and a ragged line of bulwarks. It was midwinter in theNorth Atlantic， and the wretched men were half-dead fromcold. But there was no place where they could find rest.
Every sea breached clean over the wreck， washing away thesalt incrustations from their bodies and depositing freshincrustations. The cabin under the poop was awash to theknees， but here at least was shelter from the chill wind，and here the survivors congregated， standing upright，holding on by the cabin furnishings， and leaning againstone another for support.
In vain Mahoney strove to get the men to take turns inwatching aloft from the mizzenmast for any chance vessel.
The icy gale was too much for them， and they preferredthe shelter of the cabin. O’Brien， the boy， who was onlyfifteen， took turns with Mahoney on the freezing perch.
It was the boy， at three in the afternoon， who calleddown that he had sighted a sail. This did bring them fromthe cabin， and they crowded the poop rail and weathermizzen shrouds as they watched the strange ship. But itscourse did not lie near， and when it disappeared belowthe skyline， they returned shivering to the cabin， not oneoffering to relieve the watch at the mast head.
By the end of the second day， Mahoney and O’Briengave up their attempt， and thereafter the vessel driftedin the gale uncared for and without a lookout. Therewere thirteen alive， and for seventy-two hours they stoodknee-deep in the sloshing water on the cabin floor， halffrozen，without food， and with but three bottles of wineshared among them. All food and fresh water were below，and there was no getting at such supplies in the waterloggedcondition of the wreck. As the days went by， nofood whatever passed their lips. Fresh water， in smallquantities， they were able to obtain by holding a cover ofa tureen under the saddle of the mizzenmast. But the rainfell infrequently， and they were hard put. When it rained，they also soaked their handkerchiefs， squeezing them outinto their mouths or into their shoes. As the wind andsea went down， they were even able to mop the exposedportions of the deck that were free from brine and so addto their water supply. But food they had none， and no wayof getting it， though sea-birds flew repeatedly overhead.
In the calm weather that followed the gale， after havingremained on their feet for ninety-six hours， they were ableto find dry planks in the cabin on which to lie. But thelong hours of standing in the salt water had caused soresto form on their legs. These sores were extremely painful.