Acapulco, the regular coaling port for all the steamers on that coast.
It was Sunday P.M. We could raise fuel enough to make only four knots an
hour. It was an iron steamer. We were burning what there was of the
woodwork of the vessel, for if we could not make the port before dark we
were lost. The officers were not acquainted with the coast. We had not
fuel enough to keep steam up all night, and we would be on the broad
Pacific ocean, six thousand miles across, without the remotest
possibility of meeting any other vessel, without any control of our
steamer, subject to be driven in any direction. I heard the mate talking
to the captain about the propriety of wrecking the vessel and saving
what lives they could, although we were in sight of land. The captain
said the under-tow was so great that none could be saved in that way.
It is twice as great on the Pacific as the Atlantic. There were no
female passengers. One man said he had $10,000 in gold with him; if his
wife and children only had that he would be content to meet his fate,
under the circumstances, but it was hard to leave them without it. All
the passengers had more or less gold, or they would not have been
returning.

You can imagine with what anxiety we watched every indication of the
coast to see if there was any chance of us nearing the port. Finally,
toward night, we saw a high projection of land on the coast, and that
was predicted that it was the entrance to the port. If we could reach
that point before dark, we might be saved. The passengers went to work
to break up any thing for the fires that would make steam. The captain
made no objections, but told them to burn all woodwork on the vessel to
save their lives. At dark we reached the point we had in view, and it
was fortunate for us that it was the entrance to the port. As the vessel
turned to enter, you could see, coming over the waters of the ocean, a
tropical storm, accompanied with wind, thunder and lightning. Twenty