This I managed as follows: The moment the chain was at its tautest--at its greatest tension--I gave it a violent blow with a big axe, and it parted.

I steered due west, taking my observations by the sun and my own shadow at morning, noon, and evening.

For I had been taught to reckon the degree of latitude from the number of inches of my shadow.

After a time I altered my course to west by south, hoping that I might come upon one of the islands of the Dutch Indies,--Timorland, for instance, but day after day passed without land coming in sight.
Imagine the situation, if you can: alone on a disabled ship in the limitless ocean,--tortured with doubts and fears about the fate of my comrades, and filled with horror and despair at my own miserable prospects for the future.
I did not sail the ship at night, but got out a sea-anchor (using a float and a long coir rope), and lay-to while I turned in for a sleep.

I would be up at day-break next morning, and as the weather continued beautifully fine, I had no difficulty in getting under way again.