Allan Hughan's rescue by the gallant French

Again,the words which best describe what happened to Allan Hughan following the demise of his schooner Pilot are his very own...the following letter was published in the Sydney Morning Herald on November 3, 1870.

"THE FRENCH OF NEW CALEDONIA.
TO THE EDITOR OF THE HERALD.
SIR,- To speak well of others is ever pleasing- doubly so when gratitude gives its strong aid. Such is now the welcome office of an Englishman, writing of the French, our nearest neighbours here, as at home.
A shipwrecked mariner's position is never to be envied, and, as a rule, less so when cast away in a foreign land. Mine has, in one respect, been an exception to the rule.
Cast away on a sunken reef, at the north end of New Caledonia, my crew and myself were in a most helpless condition, owing to the previous loss of our boats in a storm unusually severe, even for this season of extraordinary bad weather. The nearest land- Yande Island- was distant about four miles, a heavy sea and strong current intervening, and the possibility that beyond these a still greater danger existed in the natives of New Caledonian celebrity, was not comforting.
Our poor old vessel, the Pilot, was bilged, the water rising and falling in her hold with the tides. No native canoes were to be seen, a raft seemed our only chance for life. Keeping one hand constantly engaged trying to attract attention from shore, all others worked hard to construct a raft, which was nearly completed when, to our great delight, a boat was seen approaching;- rescue, and proof of civilisation.
When near enough to discern the faces of her crew, we were all astonished to see only blacks in her, but on hailing her our grateful joy was increased by hearing good English, and soon her sable crew was aboard, and rendered us every requisite aid, landing us, and all our effects, safely before night.
A poor chance we should have had of reaching land on a raft against a heavy sea, wind, and current.
On landing we were met by many most friendly natives, and most hospitably entertained in the hut of the only white resident on the island, an Englishman, then absent.
I purpose not to describe a wreck, but simply to record the unmeasured kindness of the French. A week or two after the stranding of my vessel, H.I.M.S Cyclope, Captain Artiguenave, called at the nearest settlement to the scene of the disaster, and immediately upon being informed of the ship's position, Captain Artiguenave offered his valuable assistance in the most generous and kindly manner. I will quote his own words to me:
"We are brother mariners, you know, and it will give me very much pleasure if I can help you. We must all help one another, for we may at any time be in the same position. I hope to get your ship afloat, but if not we will save all that can be taken out of her."
Well did he carry out his kind promise. Though he could not float the vessel, every movable- masts, spars, anchor, cables &c.- was secured and taken to Noumea, a distance of 250 miles, landed and delivered there gratuitously, the Government fully endorsing the generous action of Captain Artiguenave. His officers, I need hardly add,evinced the like spirit of their much esteemed commander, each seeming to vie with the other in showing kindness to the stranger. The sailors also followed in the same track.

Of Captain Vollet and Lieutenant Ternet, of H.I.M.S Gazelle, I cannot speak in high enough terms.
Their extreme kindness and attention to my family and myself, whilst conveying us from the coast of New Caledonia to Noumea, was beyond praise, and could not be exceeded in delicate politeness and sterling worth. The same I can record of all the French officers with whom, through my disaster, I have been thrown in contact. My heavy loss has served to prove the truth and value of their good hearts. From the Colonial Secretary, Monsieur Lidiu, myself, and such of my crew as required it, received all requisite assistance in the freest and most generous spirit.
Finally, we have been conveyed to Sydney, free of charge, in the war steamer Surcouf (Captain Trudelle), though she was unusually crowded with officers en route to France, finding on board her no link in the chain of admiration and esteem which binds me most strongly to a warm-hearted chivalrous people, to know whom more intimately than is the general lot is a privilege and a daily increasing pleasure.
At a time when France is suffering all the horrors of war, this description of the uniform kindness shown to Englishmen by one and all of the many French officers with whom they were thrown into contact, private and official, will not be wanting in interest to their countrymen.
The French need only to be more intimately known in order to secure the high admiration and esteem the writer feels for them. They are, to use an expressive phrase, "downright good fellows." Kind and warm-hearted to a degree, these noble fellows are beautified and embellished by their uniform politeness and thoughtfulness for others.

As sailors they would in many ways please our "jolly Tars". I must , howver, not enter upon this subject, or my trespass on your space will be too long. But permit me to add a few words of well-merited praise respecting the good ship Surcouf, 502 miles in forty-eight hours with a moderate breeze is good sailing.
During her late voyage, I have seen her log 13 knots under easy sail with only a steady breeze.The run across from New Caledonia she made in 5 days and 16 hours under sail only. Discipline and content go hand-in-hand on board, efficiency being in no way lessened by the absence of rigorous severity. This is evidenced by the cheerful alacrity with which the sailors perform their various duties, their respect for their officers, and the kindly intercourse which prevails throughout the vessel, conveying an idea of homeliness and content which I have found characteristic of all the French vessels I have had the pleasure of sailing in.

The warmest thanks of myself and those connected with me in my late disaster are due to our most estimable neighbours and friends. Grant me the pleasure of recording it with all sincerity in your pages.
Your obedient servant,
ALLAN HUGHAN, late of the brigantine Pilot."

The Le Surcouf sailed from Noumea on October 23, 1870. There was a notice in the Moniteur de la Nouvelle Caledonie, the local New Caledonian newspaper,that the hull of “Pilot” with everything on it , which lies on the Yande reef would be sold at a public auction in Noumea Tuesday 25 October 1870 .

As so obvious in the preceding letter, Allan Hughan was somewhat besotted with the French nation after his adventure, and as soon as he could he high-tailed it straight back to New Caledonia. The next thirteen years were spent in Noumea, where Allan established himself as a very successful photographer, and his wife and daughters immersed themselves in the New Caledonian society, contributing particularly to the musical evenings of their community.