- Bye, guys! ... Do you want something for the Barlavento coast?! ...

We still see the little sloop of the 'Faro' going along the 'Lurio', tied to the buoy in front of the Capital of the Algarve.

The old engineer Antunes, tall, strong, was standing at the stern of the vessel, and it was he who, jovial as ever, fare welled us... for the last time!

We would never see those comrades again, condemned by fate to a horrible and inglorious death in front of Alvor, by the borders of Portimão! ...
The Gunboat 'Faro', an elegant vessel of 136 tons, received the honourable task of carrying on board his Excellency the Minister of England, we assume from Portimão to Lagos.
The Lagos channel was at the time, an aspiration of the people of the Barlavento. That only existed in theory at election time. After the elections...
Metzener, the commander of the Gunboat, did the most to make the stay of the distinguished diplomat in his small vessel nice and almost sumptuous. He brought with him all his silver plate that gracefully adorned his home. He offered a dinner and wanted the Minister to keep the best memories of the traditional Portuguese hospitality.
The hospitality on-board our warships, is a cult, made rule with sacrifices and renunciations by those who so earnestly practice it!
The trip went splendidly. A magnificent time, a mirrored sea without a wrinkle, as only the Algarve offers when the 'Levante' or the Southwest winds are not tickling...
Charmed, the English diplomat warmly fare welled his new Portuguese friends, and landed in Lagos.
The delicate mission was accomplished, performed with the composure and elegance that we know the Navy does in such diplomatic roles.
Metzener, that would dress with equal lustre a ball or a waterproof storm coat, or would equally stand in a dining room or in a tempest, sailed with confidence to Portimão.
The night had not changed the peaceful look of the sea.
There was not much to look for during the navigation, she almost knew the way by herself, used do to it for so many years in its lengthy and difficult fishing's surveillance operations!
The Commander, the 2nd Lieutenant Guimarães Marques and the 'practical' were talking, all on the bridge, next to the helmsman who was following the compass heading.
In the sky, the stars shone wildly, joyous souls of angels, guardian of the sailor companions on the long nights of loneliness and discomfort!
On the portside the strip of land ran, black, dotted with lights in the distance...
The group was talking about the commission, the impressions taken by visitors, the great and princely dinner...
- Commander, Sir, said the 'practical', we have a ship close by our bow! ...
- Put the rudder Starboard, Metzener ordered the helmsman.
- So!
- The men have done evil to manoeuvre! They are still coming up against us, said the 'practical', excited.
And of no use were the skilful commander's instructions to the helmsman: a tremendous shock, inevitable, the bow of a powerful high sea tug hit the luff of the old Gunboat! ...
After ... a dreadful explosion that boomed over the tin waters, and got lost, in the distance, on the sands of the coast...
The steam boiler had exploded! ...

- I have killed men aboard, Captain, Sir, someone shouted at the other boat, while with the reverse, the two ships had gone a little of each other.
Nobody knew the serious damage that the 'Faro' had suffer!
The bow of the tug had opened a crack in the wall of the cabin where, on the bunk, laid quietly the engineer P... Terrified facing such strange and unexpected visit the poor man rapidly jumped on the ground, and loosing his head initiated a mad rush to the deck. Disoriented, out of control, incapable of reasoning, of taking a decision! ... He could have gone out the door and told the Commander what was going on, but he did not!
The water invaded the ship, and came on deck; with the ship nose down the water entered the hatch compartment.
Everything was lost! ...
Not measuring the danger, Metzener, gentleman of another age, still tried to send relief to the other boat.
A dinghy, lowered hastily brought the first death, a wretched cabin boy who was never seen again!
The Gunboat sank rapidly, near land where she was trying to reach the beaches.
In nine fathoms deep, it all ended.
A sinister cry echoed the ship 'save yourself, if you can...' And the beautiful ship, more a pleasure yacht than a warship, laid down the sands of Alvor and stayed there forever, just with a bit of one of the masts outside.
Now began the real tragedy, the loss of nine lives, the horrible death of the officers and ship's master! ...

The 'practice' survived.
We heard the description of the sad and unforgettable event that this man, already half mad, did in the official statement.
It was creepy!
- I, said the old man, went down with the 'g'boat'. I know how to swim, but I found myself trapped by a thick cable that squeezed my neck. I wanted to unravel, but could not take out the garrotte that smothered me ...
It was a horror, gentlemen.
Finally, the boat deep down gave a shudder, adorned more and the cable broke.
I came to the surface already half dead. I breathed deeply and tried to guide me. I did not see or hear anyone, but I guessed the surf at the beach, toward the North. I swam as I could and I managed to reach the coast.
It seemed a dream, a resurrection! It was like crazy, no longer saw or knew what I was doing.
Once on land, on the sand, I started running, running. I didn't know where or why! It was nerves; maybe you can call it the joy of living...
Suddenly, and somehow, I found myself back in the water!
I had escaped the sea, and in my madness, I felt into the Alvor River!
Fortunately, some girls gave me hands and helped me to get out. Then they took care of me ... and I know nothing more! ...

But there was something else, and this worthy of record.
The helmsman, being the last to fall into the water, swam, like others, to the land. On the way, he found his commander, already congested, in the throes of death. Full of commotion, grabbed his face on the surface of the water and tried to cheer him.
Sadly, it was not possible! Metzener, good swimmer, succumbed to the grief that came of this disaster, shaking to its reputation as an officer.
At that time, he was already a corpse!
Slave of his duty, the sailor, not looking away or his fatigue took the arm of that lifeless body and towed it to the beach!
Noble example of dedication that is never too much to remember! ...

In the boiler house stayed the boiler man, a hero, that in order to meet all his professional duties was caught by the tons of water poured throughout the hatches and ventilators!
He died at his post, modest victim of the dictates of conscience in which the notion of serving well overlapped its own self-preservation instinct!

- Bye, guys! ... So many years went by and I still see them in the 'Ria de Faro', happy, radiant, these poor fellow comrades and friends that death was already lurking ominously and so greedy! ...

May their memory forgive us the good intention of these "notes" already so forgotten! ...
Everything passes, unforgiving over the years! ...

Extracted from the Internet - Unknown Author