As soon as this reached the wharf the men reported that Ashlock and all his crew, with the exception of one man, had been drowned a few minutes after I had left the beach.

They said his surf-boat had reached the steamer, had taken on board a load of soldiers, some eight or ten, and had started back through the surf, when on the bar a heavy breaker upset the boat, and all were lost except the boy who pulled the bow-oar, who clung to the rope or painter, hauled himself to the upset boat, held on, drifted with it outside the breakers, and was finally beached near a mile down the coast.

They reported also that the steamer had got up anchor, run in as close to the bar as she could, paused awhile, and then had started down the coast.
I instantly took a fresh crew of soldiers and returned to the bar; there sat poor Mrs.Ashlock on her chest of clothes, a weeping widow, who had seen her husband perish amid sharks and waves; she clung to the hope that the steamer had picked him up, but, strange to say, he could not swim, although he had been employed on the water all his life.
Her sister was more demonstrative, and wailed as one lost to all hope and life.

She appealed to us all to do miracles to save the struggling men in the waves, though two hours had already passed, and to have gone out then among those heavy breakers, with an inexperienced crew, would have been worse than suicide.

All I could do was to reorganize the guard at the beach, take the two desolate females up to the fort, and give them the use of my own quarters.