Though the ship was between the dangerous reefs and the sea, partially protected by a small land-locked bay, yet the surf was so high that it was madness to think of reaching the vessel that night.

He built a fire on shore and all night long heaped on wood in the hope of attracting attention of those on board.
Morning dawned, and he saw the galleon with her head high in the air and her stern low in the sand and water.

The tide had gone out, and not more than one hundred yards of water lay between him and the ship.

John stripped off his clothes and swam to the wreck.
After no little difficulty he climbed up the mizzen chains.
A silence of death reigned over the ship, and when he had gained the deck a terrible sight met his view.

Five men and one boy, the victims of the pirate's guns, lay dead on the deck, which was badly splintered with balls and shot.
The ship was wonderfully well preserved, the chief damage it received being from the cannon of the enemy.
John called again and again but no voice responded.