A large mass of the deck, with part of the gunwale attached to it, lay close beside him, held to the mast by one of the shrouds.

He at once swam to this, and found it sufficiently large to sustain his weight, though not large enough to enable him to get quite out of the water.
While here, half in and half out of the water, his first act was to fall on his knees and thank God for sparing his life, and to pray for help in that hour of need.
Feeling that it would be impossible to exist much longer unless he could get quite out of the water so as to allow the sun to warm his chilled frame, he used what strength remained in him to drag towards him several spars that lay within his reach.

These he found to be some of the rough timbers that had lain on the deck of the cutter to serve as spare masts and yards.

They were, therefore, destitute of cordage, so that it was not possible to form a secure raft.

Nevertheless, by piling them together on the top of the broken portion of the deck; he succeeded in constructing a platform which raised him completely out of the water.
The heat of the sun speedily dried his garments, and as the day wore on the sea went down sufficiently to render the keeping of his raft together a matter of less difficulty than it was at first.