omise of
temporary safety, everything that could be of any service; and the Cato's
company, jumping overboard and swimming through the breakers with the aid
of planks and spars, made for the same spot. All were saved except three
lads, one of whom had been to sea on three or four voyages and was
wrecked on every occasion. "He had bewailed himself through the night as
the persecuted Jonah who carried misfortune wherever he went. He launched
himself upon a broken spar with his captain; but, having lost his hold in
the breakers, was not seen afterwards."

The behaviour of the Bridgewater in these distressing circumstances was
inhuman and discreditable to such a degree as is happily rare in the
history of seamanship. On the day following the wreck (August 18th) it
would have been easy and safe for her captain, Palmer, to bring her to
anchor in one of the several wide and sufficiently deep openings in the
reef, and to take the wrecked people and their stores on board. Flinders
had the gig put in readiness to go off in her, to point out the means of
rescue. A topsail was set up on the highest part of the reef, and a large
blue ensign, with the union downwards, was hoisted to it as a signal of
distress. But Palmer, who saw the signal, paid no heed to it. Having
sailed round the reef, deluding the unfortunates for a while with the
false hope of relief, he stood off and made for Batavia, leaving them to
their fate. Worse still, he acted mendaciously as well as with a
heartless disregard of their plight; for on his arrival at Tellicherry he
sent his third mate, Williams, ashore with an untrue account of the
occurrence, reporting the loss of the Porpoise and Cato, and saying that
he had not only found it impossible to weather the reef, but even had he
done so it would have been too late to render assistance. Williams,
convinced that the crews were still on the reef, and that Palmer's false
account had been sent ashore to excuse his own shameful conduct, and
"blind the people," left his captain's narrative as instructed, but only
"after relating the story as contrary as possible" on his own account. He
told Palmer what he had done, and his action "was the cause of many
words." What kind of words they were can be easily imagined. The result
of Williams' honest independence was in the end fortunate for himself.
Though he left the ship, and forfeited his wages and part of his clothes
by so doing, he saved his own life from drowning. Th