Bart, of the Renommée frigate, whom he “gallantly supported” in a successful attack upon the Spanish national schooner Giganta, lying moored under the guns of Torre de Vieja, with boarding nettings up, and in every respect prepared for an obstinate resistance.
On the morning of Jan. 5th, 1807, the Nautilus was wrecked upon a rock, about four or five miles from Peri, a small uninhabited island in the Archipelago, between Cerigo and Cerigotto: the consequent sufferings of her officers and crew are thus described by one of the former:
“H.M. late sloop Nautilus left the Bay of Abydos, in the Hellespont, charged with despatches of an urgent nature to the Commander-in-chief off Cadiz. A fine fresh wind from the N.E. carried us rapidly clear of those celebrated castles which defend the entrance of the Dardanelles. On the 4th Jan. about 5 p.m., we made Falconera, and, shortly after, Anti-Milo, fourteen or sixteen miles N.W. of the extensive island of Milo, which we could not see, from the weather being thick and hazy. Here the pilot gave up his charge of the ship, never having been beyond it; but our captain, having so plainly seen Falconera and Anti-Milo, determined to go on during the night.
“The wind continued to increase; and though our ship had but little sail set, yet we went at the rate of nine knots an hour, for she was assisted by a high following sea, which, together with vivid lightning, made the night particularly awful. On the 5th, at 2-30 a.m., we distinguished high land, which we took to be the island of Cerigotto. We now thought that all was safe, and that we had left every danger behind us. We altered our course to get past this island, and continued to run without accident until 4-30, when breakers were discovered a-head, and immediately the ship struck with most tremendous violence. It is impossible to describe the sensations that predominated at a moment so distressing:– fear, hope, and despair, by turns prevailed. The greater part of those below immediately hurried on deck, which they had scarcely done before all the ladders gave way, and left many struggling in the water that had already rushed into the lower part of the ship. Upon deck all was now confusion and alarm; and when we clearly had ascertained our situation, we could not but consider our destruction as inevitable. Every sea lifted the ship, and then again dashed her on the rock with a force that carried every thing before it. In a very short time we had only the rigging to fly to; the lightning had ceased, the night was extremely dark, and we could not see the length of the ship from us. About an hour before day-light, the main-mast gave way, and we were enabled by it to reach a small rock above water; the struggling and confusion that we experienced in thus far escaping death is not to be described: several of our unfortunate shipmates