On leaving the rock to-day a trial of seamanship was proposed
amongst the rowers, for by this time the artificers had become
tolerably expert in this exercise.  By inadvertency some of the
oars provided had been made of fir instead of ash, and although a
considerable stock had been laid in, the workmen, being at first
awkward in the art, were constantly breaking their oars; indeed it
was no uncommon thing to see the broken blades of a pair of oars
floating astern, in the course of a passage from the rock to the
vessel.  The men, upon the whole, had but little work to perform in
the course of a day; for though they exerted themselves extremely
hard while on the rock, yet, in the early state of the operations,
this could not be continued for more than three or four hours at a
time, and as their rations were large--consisting of one pound and
a half of beef, one pound of ship biscuit, eight ounces oatmeal,
two ounces barley, two ounces butter, three quarts of small beer,
with vegetables and salt--they got into excellent spirits when free
of sea-sickness.  The rowing of the boats against each other became
a favourite amusement, which was rather a fortunate circumstance,
as it must have been attended with much inconvenience had it been
found necessary to employ a sufficient number of sailors for this
purpose.  The writer, therefore, encouraged the spirit of
emulation, and the speed of their respective boats became a
favourite topic.  Premiums for boat-races were instituted, which
were contended for with great eagerness, and the respective crews
kept their stations in the boats with as much precision as they
kept their beds on board of the ship.  With these and other
pastimes, when the weather was favourable, the time passed away
among the inmates of the forecastle and waist of the ship.  The
writer looks back with interest upon the hours of solitude which he
spent in this lonely ship with his small library.

This being the first Saturday that the artificers were afloat, all
hands were served with a glass of rum and water at night, to drink
the sailors' favourite toast of 'Wives and Sweethearts.'  It was
customary, upon these occasions, for the seamen and artificers to
collect in the galley, when the musical instruments were put in
requisition:  for, according to invariable practice, every man must
play a tune, sing a song, or tell a story.

[Sunday, 23rd Aug.]

Having, on the previous evening, arranged matters with the landing-
master as to the business of the day, the signal was rung for all
hands at half-past seven this morning.  In the early state of the
spring-tides the artificers went to the rock before breakfast, but
as the tides fell later in the day, it became necessary to take
this meal before leaving the ship.  At eight o'clock all hands were
assembled on the quarter-deck for prayers, a solemnity which was
gone through in as orderly a manner as circumstances would admit.
When the weather permitted, the flags of the ship were hung up as
an awning or screen, forming the quarter-deck into a distinct
compartment; the pendant was also hoisted at the mainmast, and a
large ensign flag was displayed over the stern; and lastly, the
ship's companion, or top of the staircase, was covered with the
FLAG PROPER of the Lighthouse Service, on which the Bible was laid.
A particular toll of the bell called all hands to the quarter-deck,
when the writer read a chapter of the Bible, and, the whole ship's
company being uncovered, he also read the impressive prayer
composed by the Reverend Dr. Brunton, one of the ministers of
Edinburgh.

Upon concluding this service, which was attended with becoming
reverence and attention, all on board retired to their respective
berths to breakfast, and, at half-past nine, the bell again rung
for the artificers to take their stations in their respective
boats.  Some demur having been evinced on board about the propriety
of working on Sunday, which had hitherto been touched upon as
delicately as possible, all hands being called aft, the writer,
from the quarter-deck, stated generally the nature of the service,
expressing his hopes that every man would feel himself called upon
to consider the erection of a lighthouse on the Bell Rock, in every
point of view, as a work of necessity and mercy.  He knew that
scruples had existed with some, and these had, indeed, been fairly
and candidly urged before leaving the shore; but it was expected
that, after having seen the critical nature of the rock, and the
necessity of the measure, every man would now be satisfied of the
propriety of embracing all opportunities of landing on the rock
when the state of the weather would permit.  The writer further
took them to witness that it did not proceed from want of respect
for the appointments and established forms of religion that he had
himself adopted the resolution of attending the Bell Rock works on
the Sunday; but, as he hoped, from a conviction that it was his
bounden duty, on the strictest principles of morality.  At the same
time it was intimated that, if any were of a different opinion,
they should be perfectly at liberty to hold their sentiments
without the imputation of contumacy or disobedience; the only
difference would be in regard to the pay.

Upon stating this much, he stepped into his boat, requesting all
who were so disposed to follow him.  The sailors, from their
habits, found no scruple on this subject, and all of the
artificers, though a little tardy, also embarked, excepting four of
the masons, who, from the beginning, mentioned that they would
decline working on Sundays.  It may here be noticed that throughout
the whole of the operations it was observable that the men wrought,
if possible, with more keenness upon the Sundays than at other
times from an impression that they were engaged in a work of
imperious necessity, which required every possible exertion.  On
returning to the floating light, after finishing the tide's work,
the boats were received by the part of the ship's crew left on
board with the usual attention of handing ropes to the boats and
helping the artificers on board; but the four masons who had
absented themselves from the work did not appear upon deck.

[Monday, 24th Aug.]

The boats left the floating light at a quarter-past nine o'clock
this morning, and the work began at three-quarters past nine; but
as the neap-tides were approaching the working time at the rock
became gradually shorter, and it was now with difficulty that two
and a half hours' work could be got.  But so keenly had the workmen
entered into the spirit of the beacon-house operations, that they
continued to bore the holes in the rock till some of them were
knee-deep in water.

The operations at this time were entirely directed to the erection
of the beacon, in which every man felt an equal interest, as at
this critical period the slightest casualty to any of the boats at
the rock might have been fatal to himself individually, while it
was perhaps peculiar to the writer more immediately to feel for the
safety of the whole.  Each log or upright beam of the beacon was to
be fixed to the rock by two strong and massive bats or stanchions
of iron.  These bats, for the fixture of the principal and diagonal
beams and bracing chains, required fifty-four holes, each measuring
two inches in diameter and eighteen inches in depth.  There had
already been so considerable a progress made in boring and
excavating the holes that the writer's hopes of getting the beacon
erected this year began to be more and more confirmed, although it
was now advancing towards what was considered the latter end of the
proper working season at the Bell Rock.  The foreman joiner, Mr.
Francis Watt, was accordingly appointed to attend at the rock to-
day, when the necessary levels were taken for the step or seat of
each particular beam of the beacon, that they might be cut to their
respective lengths, to suit the inequalities of the rock; several
of the stanchions were also tried into their places, and other
necessary observations made, to prevent mistakes on the application
of the apparatus, and to facilitate the operations when the beams
came to be set up, which would require to be done in the course of
a single tide.

[Tuesday, 25th Aug.]

We had now experienced an almost unvaried tract of light airs of
easterly wind, with clear weather in the fore-part of the day and
fog in the evenings.  To-day, however, it sensibly changed; when
the wind came to the south-west, and blew a fresh breeze.  At nine
a.m. the bell rung, and the boats were hoisted out, and though the
artificers were now pretty well accustomed to tripping up and down
the sides of the floating light, yet it required more seamanship
this morning than usual.  It therefore afforded some merriment to
those who had got fairly seated in their respective boats to see
the difficulties which attended their companions, and the
hesitating manner in which they quitted hold of the man-ropes in
leaving the ship.  The passage to the rock was tedious, and the
boats did not reach it till half-past ten.

It being now the period of neap-tides, the water only partially
left the rock, and some of the men who were boring on the lower
ledges of the site of the beacon stood knee-deep in water.  The
situation of the smith to-day was particularly disagreeable, but
his services were at all times indispensable.  As the tide did not
leave the site of the forge, he stood in the water, and as there
was some roughness on the surface it was with considerable
difficulty that, with the assistance of the sailors, he was enabled
to preserve alive his fire; and, while his feet were immersed in
water, his face was not only scorched but continually exposed to
volumes of smoke, accompanied with sparks from the fire, which were
occasionally set up owing to the strength and direction of the
wind.

[Wednesday, 26th Aug.]

The wind had shifted this morning to N.N.W., with rain, and was
blowing what sailors call a fresh breeze.  To speak, perhaps,
somewhat more intelligibly to the general reader, the wind was such
that a fishing-boat could just carry full sail.  But as it was of
importance, specially in the outset of the business, to keep up the
spirit of enterprise for landing on all practicable occasions, the
writer, after consulting with the landing-master, ordered the bell
to be rung for embarking, and at half-past eleven the boats reached
the rock, and left it again at a quarter-past twelve, without,
however, being able to do much work, as the smith could not be set
to work from the smallness of the ebb and the strong breach of sea,
which lashed with great force among the bars of the forge.

Just as we were about to leave the rock the wind shifted to the
S.W., and, from a fresh gale, it became what seamen term a hard
gale, or such as would have required the fisherman to take in two
or three reefs in his sail.  It is a curious fact that the
respective tides of ebb and flood are apparent upon the shore about
an hour and a half sooner than at the distance of three or four
miles in the offing.  But what seems chiefly interesting here is
that the tides around this small sunken rock should follow exactly
the same laws as on the extensive shores of the mainland.  When the
boats left the Bell Rock to-day it was overflowed by the flood-
tide, but the floating light did not swing round to the flood-tide
for more than an hour afterwards.  Under this disadvantage the
boats had to struggle with the ebb-tide and a hard gale of wind, so
that it was with the greatest difficulty that they reached the
floating light.  Had this gale happened in spring-tides when the
current was strong we must have been driven to sea in a very
helpless condition.

The boat which the writer steered was considerably behind the
other, one of the masons having unluckily broken his oar.  Our
prospect of getting on board, of course, became doubtful, and our
situation was rather perilous, as the boat shipped so much sea that
it occupied two of the artificers to bale and clear her of water.
When the oar gave way we were about half a mile from the ship, but,
being fortunately to windward, we got into the wake of the floating
light, at about 250 fathoms astern, just as the landing-master's
boat reached the vessel.  He immediately streamed or floated a
life-buoy astern, with a line which was always in readiness, and by
means of this useful implement the boat was towed alongside of the
floating light, where, from her rolling motion, it required no
small management to get safely on board, as the men were much worn
out with their exertions in pulling from the rock.  On the present
occasion the crews of both boats were completely drenched with
spray, and those who sat upon the bottom of the boats to bale them
were sometimes pretty deep in the water before it could be cleared
out.  After getting on board, all hands were allowed an extra dram,
and, having shifted and got a warm and comfortable dinner, the
affair, it is believed, was little more thought of.

[Thursday, 27th Aug.]

The tides were now in that state which sailors term the dead of the
neap, and it was not expected that any part of the rock would be
seen above water to-day; at any rate, it was obvious, from the
experience of yesterday, that no work could be done upon it, and
therefore the artificers were not required to land.  The wind was
at west, with light breezes, and fine clear weather; and as it was
an object with the writer to know the actual state of the Bell Rock
at neap-tides, he got one of the boats manned, and, being
accompanied by the landing-master, went to it at a quarter-past
twelve.  The parts of the rock that appeared above water being very
trifling, were covered by every wave, so that no landing was made.
Upon trying the depth of water with a boathook, particularly on the
sites of the lighthouse and beacon, on the former, at low water,
the depth was found to be three feet, and on the central parts of
the latter it was ascertained to be two feet eight inches.  Having
made these remarks, the boat returned to the ship at two p.m., and
the weather being good, the artificers were found amusing
themselves with fishing.  The Smeaton came from Arbroath this
afternoon, and made fast to her moorings, having brought letters
and newspapers, with parcels of clean linen, etc., for the workmen,
who were also made happy by the arrival of three of their comrades
from the workyard ashore.  From these men they not only received
all the news of the workyard, but seemed themselves to enjoy great
pleasure in communicating whatever they considered to be
interesting with regard to the rock.  Some also got letters from
their friends at a distance, the postage of which for the men
afloat was always free, so that they corresponded the more readily.

The site of the building having already been carefully traced out
with the pick-axe, the artificers this day commenced the excavation
of the rock for the foundation or first course of the lighthouse.
Four men only were employed at this work, while twelve continued at
the site of the beacon-house, at which every possible opportunity
was embraced, till this essential art of the operations should be
completed.

[Wednesday, 2nd Sept.]

The floating light's bell rung this morning at half-past four
o'clock, as a signal for the boats to be got ready, and the landing
took place at half-past five.  In passing the Smeaton at her
moorings near the rock, her boat followed with eight additional
artificers who had come from Arbroath with her at last trip, but
there being no room for them in the floating light's boats, they
had continued on board.  The weather did not look very promising in
the morning, the wind blowing pretty fresh from W.S.W.:  and had it
not been that the writer calculated upon having a vessel so much at
command, in all probability he would not have ventured to land.
The Smeaton rode at what sailors call a salvagee, with a cross-head
made fast to the floating buoy.  This kind of attachment was found
to be more convenient than the mode of passing the hawser through
the ring of the buoy when the vessel was to be made fast.  She had
then only to be steered very close to the buoy, when the salvagee
was laid hold of with a boat-hook, and the BITE of the hawser
thrown over the cross-head.  But the salvagee, by this method, was
always left at the buoy, and was, of course, more liable to chafe
and wear than a hawser passed through the ring, which could be
wattled with canvas, and shifted at pleasure.  The salvagee and
cross method is, however, much practised; but the experience of
this morning showed it to be very unsuitable for vessels riding in
an exposed situation for any length of time.

Soon after the artificers landed they commenced work; but the wind
coming to blow hard, the Smeaton's boat and crew, who had brought
their complement of eight men to the rock, went off to examine her
riding ropes, and see that they were in proper order.  The boat had
no sooner reached the vessel than she went adrift, carrying the
boat along with her.  By the time that she was got round to make a
tack towards the rock, she had drifted at least three miles to
leeward, with the praam-boat astern; and, having both the wind and
a tide against her, the writer perceived, with no little anxiety,
that she could not possibly return to the rock till long after its
being overflowed; for, owing to the anomaly of the tides formerly
noticed, the Bell Rock is completely under water when the ebb
abates to the offing.

In this perilous predicament, indeed, he found himself placed
between hope and despair--but certainly the latter was by much the
most predominant feeling of his mind--situate upon a sunken rock in
the middle of the ocean, which, in the progress of the flood-tide,
was to be laid under water to the depth of at least twelve feet in
a stormy sea.  There were this morning thirty-two persons in all
upon the rock, with only two boats, whose complement, even in good
weather, did not exceed twenty-four sitters; but to row to the
floating light with so much wind, and in so heavy a sea, a
complement of eight men for each boat was as much as could, with
propriety, be attempted, so that, in this way, about one-half of
our number was unprovided for.  Under these circumstances, had the
writer ventured to despatch one of the boats in expectation of
either working the Smeaton sooner up towards the rock, or in hopes
of getting her boat brought to our assistance, this must have given
an immediate alarm to the artificers, each of whom would have
insisted upon taking to his own boat, and leaving the eight
artificers belonging to the Smeaton to their chance.  Of course a
scuffle might have ensued, and it is hard to say, in the ardour of
men contending for life, where it might have ended.  It has even
been hinted to the writer that a party of the PICKMEN were
determined to keep exclusively to their own boat against all
hazards.

The unfortunate circumstance of the Smeaton and her boat having
drifted was, for a considerable time, only known to the writer and
to the landing-master, who removed to the farther point of the
rock, where he kept his eye steadily upon the progress of the
vessel.  While the artificers were at work, chiefly in sitting or
kneeling postures, excavating the rock, or boring with the jumpers,
and while their numerous hammers, with the sound of the smith's
anvil, continued, the situation of things did not appear so awful.
In this state of suspense, with almost certain destruction at hand,
the water began to rise upon those who were at work on the lower
parts of the sites of the beacon and lighthouse.  From the run of
sea upon the rock, the forge fire was also sooner extinguished this
morning than usual, and the volumes of smoke having ceased, objects
in every direction became visible from all parts of the rock.
After having had about three 'hours' work, the men began, pretty
generally, to make towards their respective boats for their jackets
and stockings, when, to their astonishment, instead of three, they
found only two boats, the third being adrift with the Smeaton.  Not
a word was uttered by any one, but all appeared to be silently
calculating their numbers, and looking to each other with evident
marks of perplexity depicted in their countenances.  The landing-
master, conceiving that blame might be attached to him for allowing
the boat to leave the rock, still kept at a distance.  At this
critical moment the author was standing upon an elevated part of
Smith's Ledge, where he endeavoured to mark the progress of the
Smeaton, not a little surprised that her crew did not cut the praam
adrift, which greatly retarded her way, and amazed that some effort
was not making to bring at least the boat, and attempt our relief.
The workmen looked steadfastly upon the writer, and turned
occasionally towards the vessel, still far to leeward. {122a}  All
this passed in the most perfect silence, and the melancholy
solemnity of the group made an impression never to be effaced from
his mind.

The writer had all along been considering of various schemes--
providing the men could be kept under command--which might be put
in practice for the general safety, in hopes that the Smeaton might
be able to pick up the boats to leeward, when they were obliged to
leave the rock.  He was, accordingly, about to address the
artificers on the perilous nature of their circumstances, and to
propose that all hands should unstrip their upper clothing when the
higher parts of the rock were laid under water; that the seamen
should remove every unnecessary weight and encumbrance from the
boats; that a specified number of men should go into each boat, and
that the remainder should hang by the gunwales, while the boats
were to be rowed gently towards the Smeaton, as the course to the
Pharos, or floating light, lay rather to windward of the rock.  But
when he attempted to speak his mouth was so parched that his tongue
refused utterance, and he now learned by experience that the saliva
is as necessary as the tongue itself for speech.  He turned to one
of the pools on the rock and lapped a little water, which produced
immediate relief.  But what was his happiness, when on rising from
this unpleasant beverage, some one called out, 'A boat! a boat!'
and, on looking around, at no great distance, a large boat was seen
through the haze making towards the rock.  This at once enlivened
and rejoiced every heart.  The timeous visitor proved to be James
Spink, the Bell Rock pilot, who had come express from Arbroath with
letters.  Spink had for some time seen the Smeaton, and had even
supposed, from the state of the weather, that all hands were on
board of her till he approached more nearly and observed people
upon the rock; but not supposing that the assistance of his boat
was necessary to carry the artificers off the rock, he anchored on
the lee-side and began to fish, waiting, as usual, till the letters
were sent for, as the pilot-boat was too large and unwieldy for
approaching the rock when there was any roughness or run of the sea
at the entrance of the landing creeks.

Upon this fortunate change of circumstances, sixteen of the
artificers were sent, at two trips, in one of the boats, with
instructions for Spink to proceed with them to the floating light.
This being accomplished, the remaining sixteen followed in the two
boats belonging to the service of the rock.  Every one felt the
most perfect happiness at leaving the Bell Rock this morning,
though a very hard and even dangerous passage to the floating light
still awaited us, as the wind by this time had increased to a
pretty hard gale, accompanied with a considerable swell of sea.
Every one was as completely drenched in water as if he had been
dragged astern of the boats.  The writer, in particular, being at
the helm, found, on getting on board, that his face and ears were
completely coated with a thin film of salt from the sea spray,
which broke constantly over the bows of the boat.  After much
baling of water and severe work at the oars, the three boats
reached the floating light, where some new difficulties occurred in
getting on board in safety, owing partly to the exhausted state of
the men, and partly to the violent rolling of the vessel.

As the tide flowed, it was expected that the Smeaton would have got
to windward; but, seeing that all was safe, after tacking for
several hours and making little progress, she bore away for
Arbroath, with the praam-boat.  As there was now too much wind for
the pilot-boat to return to Arbroath, she was made fast astern of
the floating light, and the crew remained on board till next day,
when the weather moderated.  There can be very little doubt that
the appearance of James Spink with his boat on this critical
occasion was the means of preventing the loss of lives at the rock
this morning.  When these circumstances, some years afterwards,
came to the knowledge of the Board, a small pension was ordered to
our faithful pilot, then in his seventieth year; and he still
continues to wear the uniform clothes and badge of the Lighthouse
service.  Spink is a remarkably strong man, whose tout ensemble is
highly characteristic of a North-country fisherman.  He usually
dresses in a pe-jacket, cut after a particular fashion, and wears a
large, flat, blue bonnet.  A striking likeness of Spink in his
pilot-dress, with the badge or insignia on his left arm which is
characteristic of the boatmen in the service of the Northern
Lights, has been taken by Howe, and is in the writer's possession.

[Thursday, 3rd Sept.]

The bell rung this morning at five o'clock, but the writer must
acknowledge, from the circumstances of yesterday, that its sound
was extremely unwelcome.  This appears also to have been the
feelings of the artificers, for when they came to be mustered, out
of twenty-six, only eight, besides the foreman and seamen, appeared
upon deck to accompany the writer to the rock.  Such are the
baneful effects of anything like misfortune or accident connected
with a work of this description.  The use of argument to persuade
the men to embark in cases of this kind would have been out of
place, as it is not only discomfort, or even the risk of the loss
of a limb, but life itself that becomes the question.  The boats,
notwithstanding the thinness of our ranks, left the vessel at half-
past five.  The rough weather of yesterday having proved but a
summer's gale, the wind came to-day in gentle breezes; yet, the
atmosphere being cloudy, it a not a very favourable appearance.
The boats reached the rock at six a.m., and the eight artificers
who landed were employed in clearing out the bat-holes for the
beacon-house, and had a very prosperous tide of four hours' work,
being the longest yet experienced by half an hour.

The boats left the rock again at ten o'clock, and the weather
having cleared up as we drew near the vessel, the eighteen
artificers who had remained on board were observed upon deck, but
as the boats approached they sought their way below, being quite
ashamed of their conduct.  This was the only instance of refusal to
go to the rock which occurred during the whole progress of the
work, excepting that of the four men who declined working upon
Sunday, a case which the writer did not conceive to be at all
analogous to the present.  It may here be mentioned, much to the
credit of these four men, that they stood foremost in embarking for
the rock this morning.

[Saturday, 5th Sept.]

It was fortunate that a landing was not attempted this evening, for
at eight o'clock the wind shifted to E.S.E., and at ten it had
become a hard gale, when fifty fathoms of the floating light's
hempen cable were veered out.  The gale still increasing, the ship
rolled and laboured excessively, and at midnight eighty fathoms of
cable were veered out; while the sea continued to strike the vessel
with a degree of force which had not before been experienced.

[Sunday, 6th Sept.]

During the last night there was little rest on board of the Pharos,
and daylight, though anxiously wished for, brought no relief, as
the gale continued with unabated violence.  The sea struck so hard
upon the vessel's bows that it rose in great quantities, or in
'green seas,' as the sailors termed it, which were carried by the
wind as far aft as the quarter-deck, and not infrequently over the
stern of the ship altogether.  It fell occasionally so heavily on
the skylight of the writer's cabin, though so far aft as to be
within five feet of the helm, that the glass was broken to pieces
before the dead-light could be got into its place, so that the
water poured down in great quantities.  In shutting out the water,
the admission of light was prevented, and in the morning all
continued in the most comfortless state of darkness.  About ten
o'clock a.m. the wind shifted to N.E., and blew, if possible,
harder than before, and it was accompanied by a much heavier swell
of sea.  In the course of the gale, the part of the cable in the
hause-hole had been so often shifted that nearly the whole length
of one of her hempen cables, of 120 fathoms, had been veered out,
besides the chain-moorings.  The cable, for its preservation, was
also carefully served or wattled with pieces of canvas round the
windlass, and with leather well greased in the hause-hole.  In this
state things remained during the whole day, every sea which struck
the vessel--and the seas followed each other in close succession--
causing her to shake, and all on board occasionally to tremble.  At
each of these strokes of the sea the rolling and pitching of the
vessel ceased for a time, and her motion was felt as if she had
either broke adrift before the wind or were in the act of sinking;
but, when another sea came, she ranged up against it with great
force, and this became the regular intimation of our being still
riding at anchor.

About eleven o'clock, the writer with some difficulty got out of
bed, but, in attempting to dress, he was thrown twice upon the
floor at the opposite end of the cabin.  In an undressed state he
made shift to get about half-way up the companion-stairs, with an
intention to observe the state of the sea and of the ship upon
deck; but he no sooner looked over the companion than a heavy sea
struck the vessel, which fell on the quarter-deck, and rushed
downstairs in the officers' cabin in so considerable a quantity
that it was found necessary to lift one of the scuttles in the
floor, to let the water into the limbers of the ship, as it dashed
from side to side in such a manner as to run into the lower tier of
beds.  Having been foiled in this attempt, and being completely
wetted, he again got below and went to bed.  In this state of the
weather the seamen had to move about the necessary or indispensable
duties of the ship with the most cautious use both of hands and
feet, while it required all the art of the landsman to keep within
the precincts of his bed.  The writer even found himself so much
tossed about that it became necessary, in some measure, to shut
himself in bed, in order to avoid being thrown upon the floor.
Indeed, such was the motion of the ship that it seemed wholly
impracticable to remain in any other than a lying posture.  On deck
the most stormy aspect presented itself, while below all was wet
and comfortless.

 About two o'clock p.m. a great alarm was given throughout the ship
from the effects of a very heavy sea which struck her, and almost
filled the waist, pouring down into the berths below, through every
chink and crevice of the hatches and skylights.  From the motion of
the vessel being thus suddenly deadened or checked, and from the
flowing in of the water above, it is believed there was not an
individual on board who did not think, at the moment, that the
vessel had foundered, and was in the act of sinking.  The writer
could withstand this no longer, and as soon as she again began to
range to the sea he determined to make another effort to get upon
deck.  In the first instance, however, he groped his way in
darkness from his own cabin through the berths of the officers,
where all was quietness.  He next entered the galley and other
compartments occupied by the artificers.  Here also all was shut up
in darkness, the fire having been drowned out in the early part of
the gale.  Several of the artificers were employed in prayer,
repeating psalms and other devotional exercises in a full tone of
voice; others protesting that, if they should fortunately get once
more on shore, no one should ever see them afloat again.  With the
assistance of the landing-master, the writer made his way, holding
on step by step, among the numerous impediments which lay in the
way.  Such was the creaking noise of the bulk-heads or partitions,
the dashing of the water, and the whistling noise of the winds,
that it was hardly possible to break in upon such a confusion of
sounds.  In one or two instances, anxious and repeated inquiries
were made by the artificers as to the state of things upon deck, to
which the captain made the usual answer, that it could not blow
long in this way, and that we must soon have better weather.  The
next berth in succession, moving forward in the ship, was that
allotted for the seamen.  Here the scene was considerably
different.  Having reached the middle of this darksome berth
without its inmates being aware of any intrusion, the writer had
the consolation of remarking that, although they talked of bad
weather and the cross accidents of the sea, yet the conversation
was carried on in that sort of tone and manner which bespoke an
ease and composure of mind highly creditable to them and pleasing
to him.  The writer immediately accosted the seamen about the state
of the ship.  To these inquiries they replied that the vessel being
light, and having but little hold of the water, no top-rigging,
with excellent ground-tackle, and everything being fresh and new,
they felt perfect confidence in their situation.

It being impossible to open any of the hatches in the fore part of
the ship in communicating with the deck, the watch was changed by
passing through the several berths to the companion-stair leading
to the quarter-deck.  The writer, therefore, made the best of his
way aft, and, on a second attempt to look out, he succeeded, and
saw indeed an astonishing sight.  The sea or waves appeared to be
ten or fifteen feet in height of unbroken water, and every
approaching billow seemed as if it would overwhelm our vessel, but
she continued to rise upon the waves and to fall between the seas
in a very wonderful manner.  It seemed to be only those seas which
caught her in the act of rising which struck her with so much
violence and threw such quantities of water aft.  On deck there was
only one solitary individual looking out, to give the alarm in the
event of the ship breaking from her moorings.  The seaman on watch
continued only two hours; he who kept watch at this time was a
tall, slender man of a black complexion; he had no greatcoat nor
over-all of any kind, but was simply dressed in his ordinary jacket
and trousers; his hat was tied under his chin with a napkin, and he
stood aft the foremast, to which he had lashed himself with a
gasket or small rope round his waist, to prevent his falling upon
deck or being washed overboard.  When the writer looked up, he
appeared to smile, which afforded a further symptom of the
confidence of the crew in their ship.  This person on watch was as
completely wetted as if he had been drawn through the sea, which
was given as a reason for his not putting on a greatcoat, that he
might wet as few of his clothes as possible, and have a dry shift
when he went below.  Upon deck everything that was movable was out
of sight, having either been stowed below, previous to the gale, or
been washed overboard.  Some trifling parts of the quarter boards
were damaged by the breach of the sea; and one of the boats upon
deck was about one-third full of water, the oyle-hole or drain
having been accidently stopped up, and part of her gunwale had
received considerable injury.  These observations were hastily
made, and not without occasionally shutting the companion, to avoid
being wetted by the successive seas which broke over the bows and
fell upon different parts of the deck according to the impetus with
which the waves struck the vessel.  By this time it was about three
o'clock in the afternoon, and the gale, which had now continued
with unabated force for twenty-seven hours, had not the least
appearance of going off.

In the dismal prospect of undergoing another night like the last,
and being in imminent hazard of parting from our cable, the writer
thought it necessary to advise with the master and officers of the
ship as to the probable event of the vessel's drifting from her
moorings.  They severally gave it as their opinion that we had now
every chance of riding out the gale, which, in all probability,
could not continue with the same fury many hours longer; and that
even if she should part from her anchor, the storm-sails had been
laid to hand, and could be bent in a very short time.  They further
stated that from the direction of the wind being N.E., she would
sail up the Firth of Forth to Leith Roads.  But if this should
appear doubtful, after passing the Island and Light of May, it
might be advisable at once to steer for Tyningham Sands, on the
western side of Dunbar, and there run the vessel ashore.  If this
should happen at the time of high-water, or during the ebbing of
the tide, they were of opinion, from the flatness and strength of
the floating light, that no danger would attend her taking the
ground, even with a very heavy sea.  The writer, seeing the
confidence which these gentlemen possessed with regard to the
situation of things, found himself as much relieved with this
conversation as he had previously been with the seeming
indifference of the forecastle men, and the smile of the watch upon
deck, though literally lashed to the foremast.  From this time he
felt himself almost perfectly at ease; at any rate, he was entirely
resigned to the ultimate result.

About six o'clock in the evening the ship's company was heard
moving upon deck, which on the present occasion was rather the
cause of alarm.  The writer accordingly rang his bell to know what
was the matter, when he was informed by the steward that the
weather looked considerably better, and that the men upon deck were
endeavouring to ship the smoke-funnel of the galley that the people
might get some meat.  This was a more favourable account than had
been anticipated.  During the last twenty-one hours he himself had
not only had nothing to eat, but he had almost never passed a
thought on the subject.  Upon the mention of a change of weather,
he sent the steward to learn how the artificers felt, and on his
return he stated that they now seemed to be all very happy, since
the cook had begun to light the galley-fire and make preparations
for the suet-pudding of Sunday, which was the only dish to be
attempted for the mess, from the ease with which it could both be
cooked and served up.

The principal change felt upon the ship as the wind abated was her
increased rolling motion, but the pitching was much diminished, and
now hardly any sea came farther aft than the foremast:  but she
rolled so extremely hard as frequently to dip and take in water
over the gunwales and rails in the waist.  By nine o'clock all
hands had been refreshed by the exertions of the cook and steward,
and were happy in the prospect of the worst of the gale being over.
The usual complement of men was also now set on watch, and more
quietness was experienced throughout the ship.  Although the
previous night had been a very restless one, it had not the effect
of inducing repose in the writer's berth on the succeeding night;
for having been so much tossed about in bed during the last thirty
hours, he found no easy spot to turn to, and his body was all sore
to the touch, which ill accorded with the unyielding materials with
which his bed-place was surrounded.

[Monday, 7th Sept.]

This morning, about eight o'clock, the writer was agreeably
surprised to see the scuttle of his cabin sky-light removed, and
the bright rays of the sun admitted.  Although the ship continued
to roll excessively, and the sea was still running very high, yet
the ordinary business on board seemed to be going forward on deck.
It was impossible to steady a telescope, so as to look minutely at
the progress of the waves and trace their breach upon the Bell
Rock; but the height to which the cross-running waves rose in
sprays when they met each other was truly grand, and the continued
roar and noise of the sea was very perceptible to the ear.  To
estimate the height of the sprays at forty or fifty feet would
surely be within the mark.  Those of the workmen who were not much
afflicted with sea-sickness, came upon deck, and the wetness below
being dried up, the cabins were again brought into a habitable
state.  Every one seemed to meet as if after a long absence,
congratulating his neighbour upon the return of good weather.
Little could be said as to the comfort of the vessel, but after
riding out such a gale, no one felt the least doubt or hesitation
as to the safety and good condition of her moorings.  The master
and mate were extremely anxious, however, to heave in the hempen
cable, and see the state of the clinch or iron ring of the chain-
cable.  But the vessel rolled at such a rate that the seamen could
not possibly keep their feet at the windlass nor work the hand-
spikes, though it had been several times attempted since the gale
took off.

About twelve noon, however, the vessel's motion was observed to be
considerably less, and the sailors were enabled to walk upon deck
with some degree of freedom.  But, to the astonishment of every
one, it was soon discovered that the floating light was adrift!
The windlass was instantly manned, and the men soon gave out that
there was no strain upon the cable.  The mizzen sail, which was
bent for the occasional purpose of making the vessel ride more
easily to the tide, was immediately set, and the other sails were
also hoisted in a short time, when, in no small consternation, we
bore away about one mile to the south-westward of the former
station, and there let go the best bower anchor and cable in twenty
fathoms water, to ride until the swell of the sea should fall, when
it might be practicable to grapple for the moorings, and find a
better anchorage for the ship.

[Tuesday, 15th Sept.]

This morning, at five a.m., the bell rung as a signal for landing
upon the rock, a sound which, after a lapse of ten days, it is
believed was welcomed by every one on board.  There being a heavy
breach of sea at the eastern creek, we landed, though not without
difficulty, on the western side, every one seeming more eager than
another to get upon the rock; and never did hungry men sit down to
a hearty meal with more appetite than the artificers began to pick
the dulse from the rocks.  This marine plant had the effect of
reviving the sickly, and seemed to be no less relished by those who
were more hardy.

While the water was ebbing, and the men were roaming in quest of
their favourite morsel, the writer was examining the effects of the
storm upon the forge and loose apparatus left upon the rock.  Six
large blocks of granite which had been landed, by way of
experiment, on the 1st instant, were now removed from their places
and, by the force of the sea, thrown over a rising ledge into a
hole at the distance of twelve or fifteen paces from the place on
which they had been landed.  This was a pretty good evidence both
of the violence of the storm and the agitation of the sea upon the
rock.  The safety of the smith's forge was always an object of
essential regard.  The ash-pan of the hearth or fireplace, with its
weighty cast-iron back, had been washed from their places of
supposed security; the chains of attachment had been broken, and
these ponderous articles were found at a very considerable distance
in a hole on the western side of the rock; while the tools and
picks of the Aberdeen masons were scattered about in every
direction.  It is, however, remarkable that not a single article
was ultimately lost.

This being the night on which the floating light was advertised to
be lighted, it was accordingly exhibited, to the great joy of every
one.

[Wednesday, 16th Sept.]

The writer was made happy to-day by the return of the Lighthouse
yacht from a voyage to the Northern Lighthouses.  Having
immediately removed on board of this fine vessel of eighty-one tons
register, the artificers gladly followed; for, though they found
themselves more pinched for accommodation on board of the yacht,
and still more so in the Smeaton, yet they greatly preferred either
of these to the Pharos, or floating light, on account of her
rolling motion, though in all respects fitted up for their
conveniency.

The writer called them to the quarter-deck and informed them that,
having been one mouth afloat, in terms of their agreement they were
now at liberty to return to the workyard at Arbroath if they
preferred this to continuing at the Bell Rock.  But they replied
that, in the prospect of soon getting the beacon erected upon the
rock, and having made a change from the floating light, they were
now perfectly reconciled to their situation, and would remain
afloat till the end of the working season.

[Thursday, 17th Sept.]

The wind was at N.E. this morning, and though they were only light
airs, yet there was a pretty heavy swell coming ashore upon the
rock.  The boats landed at half-past seven o'clock a.m., at the
creek on the southern side of the rock, marked Port Hamilton.  But
as one of the boats was in the act of entering this creek, the
seaman at the bow-oar, who had just entered the service, having
inadvertently expressed some fear from a heavy sea which came
rolling towards the boat, and one of the artificers having at the
same time looked round and missed a stroke with his oar, such a
preponderance was thus given to the rowers upon the opposite side
that when the wave struck the boat it threw her upon a ledge of
shelving rocks, where the water left her, and she having KANTED to
seaward, the next wave completely filled her with water.  After
making considerable efforts the boat was again got afloat in the
proper track of the creek, so that we landed without any other
accident than a complete ducking.  There being no possibility of
getting a shift of clothes, the artificers began with all speed to
work, so as to bring themselves into heat, while the writer and his
assistants kept as much as possible in motion.  Having remained
more than an hour upon the rock, the boats left it at half-past
nine; and, after getting on board, the writer recommended to the
artificers, as the best mode of getting into a state of comfort, to
strip off their wet clothes and go to bed for an hour or two.  No
further inconveniency was felt, and no one seemed to complain of
the affection called 'catching cold.'

[Friday, 18th Sept.]

An important occurrence connected with the operations of this
season was the arrival of the Smeaton at four p.m., having in tow
the six principal beams of the beacon-house, together with all the
stanchions and other work on board for fixing it on the rock.  The
mooring of the floating light was a great point gained, but in the
erection of the beacon at this late period of the season new
difficulties presented themselves.  The success of such an
undertaking at any season was precarious, because a single day of
bad weather occurring before the necessary fixtures could be made
might sweep the whole apparatus from the rock.  Notwithstanding
these difficulties, the writer had determined to make the trial,
although he could almost have wished, upon looking at the state of
the clouds and the direction of the wind, that the apparatus for
the beacon had been still in the workyard.

[Saturday, 19th Sept.]

The main beams of the beacon were made up in two separate rafts,
fixed with bars and bolts of iron.  One of these rafts, not being
immediately wanted, was left astern of the floating light, and the
other was kept in tow by the Smeaton, at the buoy nearest to the
rock.  The Lighthouse yacht rode at another buoy with all hands on
board that could possibly be spared out of the floating light.  The
party of artificers and seamen which landed on the rock counted
altogether forty in number.  At half-past eight o'clock a derrick,
or mast of thirty feet in height, was erected and properly
supported with guy-ropes, for suspending the block for raising the
first principal beam of the beacon; and a winch machine was also
bolted down to the rock for working the purchase-tackle.

Upon raising the derrick, all hands on the rock spontaneously gave
three hearty cheers, as a favourable omen of our future exertions
in pointing out more permanently the position of the rock.  Even to
this single spar of timber, could it be preserved, a drowning man
might lay hold.  When the Smeaton drifted on the 2nd of this month
such a spar would have been sufficient to save us till she could
have come to our relief.

[Sunday, 20th Sept.]

The wind this morning was variable, but the weather continued
extremely favourable for the operations throughout the whole day.
At six a.m. the boats were in motion, and the raft, consisting of
four of the six principal beams of the beacon-house, each measuring
about sixteen inches square, and fifty feet in length, was towed to
the rock, where it was anchored, that it might ground upon it as
the water ebbed.  The sailors and artificers, including all hands,
to-day counted no fewer than fifty-two, being perhaps the greatest
number of persons ever collected upon the Bell Rock.  It was early
in the tide when the boats reached the rock, and the men worked a
considerable time up to their middle in water, every one being more
eager than his neighbour to be useful.  Even the four artificers
who had hitherto declined working on Sunday were to-day most
zealous in their exertions.  They had indeed become so convinced of
the precarious nature and necessity of the work that they never
afterwards absented themselves from the rock on Sunday when a
landing was practicable.