"Brace the yards up sharp-hard a-starboard!--and trim aft the sheets," ordered the Captain, who had previously given the order, "All hands on deck!"
The order was scarcely executed, before the noise of the approaching gale was heard in the distance. All hands were ordered to shorten sail as quickly as possible; but before they could get aloft, it came upon them with such fury from E.N.E. as to carry away the foretop-mast and topgallant-mast, together with its sails, and the main-topgallant-mast with the sail. The foretop-mast, in going by the board, carried away the flying-jib-boom and flying-jibs. Thus the ill-fated Janson was doomed to another struggle for her floating existence. The sea began to rise and break in fearful power; the leak had already increased so, that two men were continually kept working the pumps. The crew, with commendable alacrity, cut away the wreck, which had been swaying to and fro, not only endangering the lives of those on board, but obstructing every attempt to get the vessel into any kind of working order. The main-sail had rent from the leash to the peak of the gaff, and was shaking into shreds. The starboard sheet of the maintop-sail was gone, and it had torn at the head from the bolt-rope, flying at every gust like the shreds of a muslin rag in a hail-storm. Without the government of her helm, she lay in the trough of the sea more like a log than a manageable mass. Sea after sea broke over her, carrying every thing before them at each pass. The officers and crew had now as much as they could do to retain their holds, without making any effort to save the wreck, while the men at the pumps could only work at each subsiding of the sea, and that under the disadvantage of being lashed to the frame. A more perilous position than that in which the old brig Janson now lay, it was impossible to imagine.
"'Tis the worst hurricane I've ever experienced upon the West India coast, Captain, but it's too furious to last long; and if she don't go to pieces before morning, I'll give her credit for what I've always swore against her. She can't keep afloat though, if it hangs on another hour in this way," said the mate, who, with the Captain and Manuel, had just made an ineffectual attempt to rig a storm stay-sail, to try and lay her to under it. For the mate swore by his knowledge of her qualities, that to put her before it, would be certain foundering. The gale continued with unabated fury for about two hours, and stopped about as suddenly as it commenced. The work of destruction was complete, for from her water-line to the stump of the remaining spars, the Janson floated a complete wreck.