her timbers from keel to bulwarks; then the ship fell over on her beam
ends in the savage turmoil, her deck facing inshore. So sudden was the
catastrophe that no one could fire a gun for help or for warning to the
other ships, which were following closely. As the ship rolled over on her
beam ends, huge, thundering seas leapt upon and smothered her, and the
darkness of the night was accentuated by the white foam and spume of the
leaping surf. In a few moments the foremast went, the bottom was stove in,
and all hope was abandoned; and then during a momentary lull in the
crashing breakers they saw the _Cato_ and _Bridgewater_ running directly
down upon the _Porpoise_. For some seconds a breathless, horror-struck
silence reigned; then a shout arose as the two transports shaved by the
stricken ship and were apparently saved.

But their rejoicing was premature, for a minute or two later the _Cato_
struck upon an outlying spur of the reef, not a cable-length away. Like
the _Porpoise_, she at once fell over on her side, but with her deck
facing the sweeping rollers, and each succeeding wave spun her round and
round like a top and swept her fore and aft. The _Bridgewater_ escaped,
and a light air enabled her to stand to the north out of danger.

Flinders at once took command on the _Porpoise_, a small gig was lowered
to leeward, and with half a dozen men, two odd, short oars, and shoes and
hats for balers, he set out to struggle through the breakers to a calm
ring of water beyond, where they might find a sandbank to land upon, or
get within hailing distance of the _Bridgewater_. Meanwhile Fowler was
thinking of lightening the _Porpoise_ and letting her drive further up on
the reef; but fear was expressed that she might be carried over its inside
edge, and founder in 17 fathoms of water. The two cutters were launched,
and stood by under the lee of the ship throughout the long, weary night in
case she broke up. At intervals of half an hour, blue lights flared over