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January 19. A severe thunderstorm caused us to take in all sails. We made frequent attempts to catch water with our sails spread horizontally, but the boats were very low and the sails were wet with salt water and consequently filled with salt so as to spoil all the fresh water that fell—and although we used frequently to catch a sailfull in a shower, yet always found it too salty for use.
January 20. This day Richard Peterson, a colored man and a native of New York State, complained of general debility and low spirits, declaring that he could not survive the day. He refused his allowance of food, saying "Keep it, it may be of service to someone but can be of none to me." He died without a struggle. He was a man of about 60 years of age and we believe he died a Christian.
February 15. We are about 300 miles from Mas Afuera and have taken out our last morsel of food, which consists of only two cakes of common ship bread to each one in equal share. Death seems truly to be hovering over us, but upon a consultation we agreed that let whatever would come, we would never draw lots after our food had quite gone for each other's death, but leave all with God. We consented, however, at this time, in case one should die first the others could if they thought proper subsist upon our remains.
[They were found by the brig Indian, February 17, 1821, 450 miles off the coast of Chile, having sailed 3,500 miles. The captain's boat was also saved, but the third whaleboat, with its crew of six, was never found. Nickerson's account of what happened in the captain's boat:]
When their last morsel of food was gone and finding all must die, and for the sake that their friends should know their fate, Charles Ramsdell made the first proposition to cast lots. Captain Pollard would not listen to it, saying to the others "No, but if I die first you are welcome to subsist on my remains," and [Pollard's nephew Owen] Coffin joined in the entreaty to cast lots. They then cut some blank paper checks, [and] put them in a hat. The lot fell upon Coffin, which he distinctly declared to be a fair lot and that he wished to abide by it. Captain Pollard then declared that he would take the lot himself, but to this Coffin would not listen. This was a trying moment, truly, the son of a beloved sister, to fall by their hands. Who can doubt but that Pollard would rather have met the death a thousand times. None that knew him will ever doubt. Neither of his companions but that shrank from the heart-rending trial. So they were compelled again to cast lots that who should draw the fatal trigger. As if the fate would have it, the awful die turned upon Captain Pollard, [who] for a long time declared that he could never do it, but finally had to submit. Coffin then called to them to come near whilst he breathed a parting message to his dear mother and family, then, craving a few moments in silence, he told them that he knew the lots had been fairly drawn. Peace to his memory.
Captain Pollard was not nor could he be thought to have dealt unfairly with this trying matter. On his arrival he bore the awful message to his mother as her son desired, but she became almost frantic with the thought, and I have learned that she never could become reconciled to the Captain's presence.