Part Two. At 11 o'clock Monday morning the 28th the new quartermaster was below decks with the Second Mate to log the ship's speed and the Valkyrien plowed the sea at 7½ knots that watch. But by 12 o'clock the weather changed to what even the sailors call a storm. As soon as he was finished with the logging he went down to his people to see that they were in bed, turned out the lamps and went to bed; he was tired. For one reason or another the sailor who was on lookout had left his post and there was no warning of a brigantine that was pushed by the wind in starboard tack and that would collide with us midships. Since our lanterns in the rigging were not as visible as in ordinary weather, the brigantine could not see us in the darkest night I have ever seen for 34 years. While we lay in our best sleep, between 12 and 1, we were suddenly awakened by a crash and a sound that resembled rolling thunder and that felt to us as if we had struck a mountain since our ship immediately stopped dead when the collision occurred. My berth was under the main hatch on toward side the brigantine hit. Every time the waves pushed the brigantine against our ship the Valkyrien's planking bent so far into my bed that they hit my back hard. With every slap I expected that our ship would break up since the brigantine had become so entangled that it could not break away. The brigantine was under full sail and pressed against us. Finally the storm separated the two ships. Instead of cutting through Valkyrien in the collision the brigantine struck the bow, snapped the bowsprit with its eight sails in three pieces and tore away the whole bow. Every time the ship bobbed under a wave water poured in so rapidly that we would have soon sunk if had we not been able to nail canvas on it to keep the water out. But the bowsprit with its sails was still attached by its lower chains to what was left of the bow and hung in a tangle under the ship. It became clear that the planking on the foreward part of Valkyrien had become quite thin. As soon as the collision occurred, the quartemaster jumped out of his berth and lit half the lamps but went immediately back to bed where he put his arms around his four dear ones that were in his bed. We all understood that with death follows Judgement for all those who die in unrepentance and infidelity. Besides what was visible it was impossible to say how much damage the Valkyrien had sustained, but by the amount of water that poured in every time the ship plunged, the Captain knew that we would soon sink and he ordered the terrifying command be sent down the main hatch, "Everyone on deck to board the lifeboats!" You who read this, even if you were not in Gethsemane with us that night, will understand what "Judgement Day Lamentation" there was as soon as that order came down the hatch for there were probably not many who felt they were prepared to meet Him who would judge both the living and the dead, when they were to meet Him on such short notice. And to think of saving oneself and one's naked sleeping children by going into the boats in the storm, darkness and cold demands a faith that is hardly known in the current generation. I must confess honestly I did not have it, even though I had no fear of dying under the circumstances we were in for the grace period we now had was no where as long as the robber on the cross had from when he called to the Lord for mercy until his soul left his body. Now that we were commanded "On deck!" there was only two choices, either die where we were or try our luck by giving ourselves as sacrifices to the four elements, wind and cold, water and dark, in a little boat on the ocean at midnight. Many who had not been rendered impotent by fear came out of their berths and bustled around my bed wishing to hear what I was going to do, die where I was or make a try for life. With my answer, many went back to their berths and we let the Lord deal with us according to His will, whether we would live or die. Think then, even though things looked almost hopeless, the Lord had fufilled what he promised and said, "And call upon me in the day of trouble: I will deliver thee, and thou shalt glorify me" while we who were almost dead called to the Lord for help and then there came another message down the hatch that on closer examination of the damage there was a slight hope that with the pumps we could keep the ship from sinking if we could build a dam so not all of every wave could get into the ship. But as soon as that message came down our brave quartermaster leaped from his bed like a cat and onto the deck to find Captain Møller to hear what hope we had in keeping alive. Supplied with good hope and comfort, he went straight back to execute the Captain's orders that he loudly shouted from a high place midships, that all males should instantly come on deck to help him save our lives. But the confusion was so great and the composure of most all gone that almost no one heard or understood that everyone had to come to try to save both body and soul from certain death. "Are they coming?" asked the Captain when the quartermaster came back. "Do not know, Herr Captain" was the answer. "Well, go down again and force them to come up." And with both harsh and soft words he finally persuaded 20 of the 150 men up on deck. You may ask what was wrong with the other 130. Death had terrified them and they were raving. But with these 20 and the 15 of the crew we were able, through hard work from 3 in the morning until 8, to get all eight sails that lay under the ship up on deck. At the same time all the pumps were kept going steadily and though the men had to be changed more often than every quarter hour and still we could barely get more water out than came in after we had shut most of the waves out with the canvas. The first day we were on the North Sea there was a head wind so it was decided to go through the English Channel and when the collision happened we had come, so to say, at its mouth, 20 miles from land. Without a foresail getting to England went poorly, we were driven more and more toward France. But by midday we had the joy of seeing land and we raised the flag for a pilot. Then from a pilot ship, that patrolled the Channel to give such assistance, a small boat came but the seas were so heavy that they could not come close enough to bring him aboard, the pilot had to jump in the water and we threw a line to him and hauled him up. As soon as he was a board we sent a distress signal and a little steamer "Victoria", that cruised the Channel hoping to make money in the need and accidents of others, approached us but demanded 100 pounds - 500 daler - to tow us to land, 1 mile from the City of Dover. But since we now could save our lives without their help we refused them because of the price. Just think, how merciless! But since we were drifting closer and closer to the French coast, by afternoon they could see us from Dover that lies at a place where the Channel is narrowest between England and France. We raised our distress flag and immediately the steamship "Palmerston" came from Dover and towed us in for 45 daler - and back into the open sea for the same price. When we came to the quay in Dover, the bells in the church tower, as if in grief, tolled a slow 3. As a safeguard for life and property a police watch was set onboard and soldiers on the quay ashore stayed there day and night for the 10 days we lay there. A plank from the ship to the quay served as a gangplank. The quay was full of people who wished to see the pitiful state we were in. After the suffering whe had endured that last night, we certainly resembled Lazarus when Jesus called him from the tomb. We were sleepless, spiritless, sad and had not eaten for 24 hours. But no one was allowed to come aboard since it was now the police who were in command as long as we lay at Dover.