Before very long, a wind of hurricane force, called the Northeaster, swept down from the island.
The ship was caught by the storm and could not head into the wind; so we gave way to it and were driven along.
As we passed to the lee of a small island called Cauda, we were hardly able to make the lifeboat secure,
so the men hoisted it aboard. Then they passed ropes under the ship itself to hold it together. Because they were afraid they would run aground on the sandbars of Syrtis, they lowered the sea anchor and let the ship be driven along.
We took such a violent battering from the storm that the next day they began to throw the cargo overboard.
On the third day, they threw the ship’s tackle overboard with their own hands.
When neither sun nor stars appeared for many days and the storm continued raging, we finally gave up all hope of being saved.