70 
the rescue j they succeeded in saving the man and-landing him 
on the steamer. The pilot states that, soon after this accident, 
a tremendous sea broke over the 4 Ossipee,’ and the water was 
over the heads of those on the poop-deck of the ship ; an officer 
now called to him, * See, the pilot-boat is swamped/ Ho 
looked and saw the 4 Curtis ’ laying on her .beam ends with her 
masts under water. At first sight it was supposed that the boat 
and all on board would be lost, but a friendly wave righted her, 
minus main gaff and head sails, which had been carried away. 
She was now in great danger of going ashore, but those on 
board managed to set a little sail and she got off in safety. 
The 4 Ossipee ’ at once raised a signal of distress , which was seen 
at the lookout and immediately telegraphed to the Merchants’ 
Exchange. The tug 4 Neptune ’ was sent out, but found she 
could not live on the bar. . . . The 4 Ossipee,’ after the acci¬ 
dent, found the water t<Jo rough to ‘put to sea and returned to 
port the same night.” 
The Columbia river can hardly be classed an accessible har¬ 
bor, its entrance being walled in with a huge sand-bar, on which 
the ocean swell breaks with terrific fury. Many vessels have 
been buried in these sands. Among the noble army of martyrs 
the U. S. ship 44 Peacock ” found an inhospitable grave. Lieut. 
Wilkes visited this river and recorded his appreciation of its 
facilities for the general purposes of commerce. He remarks : 
44 On the twenty-eighth of April, at 6, a.m., we made Cape Dis¬ 
appointment, to which we soon came up, with a heavy sea, 
caused by strong winds that prevailed for several days. I, not¬ 
withstanding, stood for the bar of the Columbia river after 
making every preparation to cross it, but on approaching nearer, 
I found the breakers extending from Cape Disappointment to 
Point Adams in one unbroken line. . . . Mere description 
can give little idea of the terrors of the bar of the Columbia; 
all who have seen it have spoken of the wildness of the scene 
and the incessant roar of the waters* representing it as one of 
the most fearful sights that can possibly meet the eye of the 
sailor. The difficulties of its channels, the distance of the 
leading sailing marks and the uncertainty to one unacquainted 
with them, the want of knowledge of the strength and direction 
of currents, the necessity of approaching close to unseen 
dangers, and the transition from clear to turbid waters, all cause 
doubt and mistrust Under such feelings I must confess myself 
