Ratcliff was not a seer, and had no mystical lore.
He was a runaway sailor, who had, in the forties, travelled daily
over the Egerton run, unconscious of the tons of gold beneath his
feet.
There was a fair wind and a smooth sea when the 'Clonmel' went ashore
at three o'clock in the morning of the second day of January, 1841.
Eighteen hours before she had taken a fresh departure from Ram's Head
to Wilson's Promontory. The anchors were let go, she swung to wind,
and at the fall of the tide she bedded herself securely in the sand,
her hull, machinery, and cargo uninjured. The seventy-five
passengers and crew were safely landed; sails, lumber, and provisions
were taken ashore in the whaleboats and quarter-boats; tents were
erected; the food supplies were stowed away under a capsized boat,
and a guard set over them by Captain Tollervey.
Next morning seven volunteers launched one of the whaleboats, boarded
the steamer, took in provisions, made a lug out of a piece of canvas,
hoisted the Union Jack to the mainmast upside down, and pulled safely
away from the 'Clonmel' against a head wind. They hoisted the lug
and ran for one of the Seal Islands, where they found a snug little
cove, ate a hearty meal, and rested for three hours. They then
pulled for the mainland, and reached Sealer's Cove about midnight,
where they landed, cooked supper, and passed the rest of the night in
the boat for fear of the blacks.
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