The grim silence of death was about the ship.

He found a boat in fair condition, lowered it and, putting the dead Spaniards into it, pulled ashore, where he gave the dead a decent burial on the sands, too high up for the tide to reach them.
Having accomplished this sad rite, he cried from the fulness of his soul: "Oh, that there had been but one, only one saved, with whom I might converse!" John Stevens, however, was a practical sort of a fellow, and, instead of repining over his sad fate, he determined to bring away everything valuable on board.

Consequently he launched the boat, pulled to the wreck and went aboard.

Had he been able to get the ship afloat, a carpenter might have repaired it so that a voyage could have been made; but the strength and skill of a hundred men could not have moved it from the sands in which it was so deeply imbedded.

The vessel had been steered through the reefs and almost into the bay when deserted.