THEinscription reads: "Did you voyage all unspoken, small and lonely? Or with fame the happy fortune of the few? So you win the Golden Harbour in the old way. There's the sea welcome waiting there for you."

You will find the weathered plaque fixed to a wall at the Bermuda Maritime Museum. The quotation from The Muse in Arms by E.B Osborne, commemorates the 88 men who drowned on October 22, 1926 when the HMS Valerian foundered in one of the most powerful hurricanes in Bermuda's history.

While the Valerian went down less than five miles from the safety of the Royal Naval Base at Dockyard, about 70 miles to the South, the steamer, Eastway foundered in the same storm, taking 22 crew members with her.

A survivor of the Valerian, one of only 19, would recall the events of that day on the front page of The Royal Gazette and Colonist Daily. But the events surrounding the loss of the Eastway, and the rescue were never published - until now.

The 1926 hurricane season was a devastating one that would ultimately claim over 1,400 lives and cause billions of dollars in damage to the Bahamas and Florida.

As the naval headquarters for the Americas, HM Dockyard at Ireland Island despatched the HMS Valerian, a minor vessel from its fleet, to render what aid it could to the Bahamas.

Having fulfilled her obligation, the Valerian, under the command of William Arthur Usher, left Nassau on October 18, 1926 to return to her base in Bermuda.

A day into their voyage, Captain Usher received reports from the US weather service that a tropical storm was forming to the South of Puerto Rico.

Since the weather reports intimated the "eye" would pass some 300 miles north of the island, Captain Usher never gave it much thought.

Besides, no hurricane had hit Bermuda in October for over 100 years - a dangerous precedent on which to rely.

However, the storm grew far more powerful than the weather forecasters had predicted and unaware that the storm was heading straight for them, Captain Usher continued his voyage home.

He nearly made it. At about 8 a.m. on October 22, 1926, and about five miles from Bermuda, the crew spotted Gibbs Hill Lighthouse.

Even though the wind howled about them and waves broke on her deck, Captain Usher anticipated no difficulty in entering the Narrows, having done so before under similar conditions.

As he later testified before a court martial: "Indeed, at that time, I felt assured of reaching harbour in safety as there was no immediate indication of a violent storm, also there was a complete absence of swell that sometimes denotes the approach of a storm."

However, this was no ordinary storm and a half-hour later the weather changed so severely that Captain Usher realised he could no longer proceed through the Narrows. He turned the ship around and headed straight into the storm.

Gale force winds were now lashing the ship at 100 mph with a driving rain and flying spray obliterating everything from view.

By noon the centre of the storm was reached and the clearing came, but with it mountainous seas that seemed to approach the ship from all sides, shooting the vessel onto a crest and dragging it down into the trough until it seemed she would snap in two.

Once the centre of the storm had passed over, the wind picked up from the north west and again flung the ship from crest to trough as if it were no more than a bath toy.

At 1 p.m. a series of squalls struck the ship on the port side with such force that she was thrown on her beam ends and heeled 70 degrees over to starboard in a stomach-churning movement.

It was at this moment that the mainmast and wireless were carried away and with it any chance of an SOS.

Above the howling wind, Captain Usher heard the engines stop and word reached him that the Valerian had run aground.

Before he could catch his breath, the enormous vessel keeled over about 60 degrees and started going down.

Word spread "all hands on deck" and with only enough time to cut away one raft, the crew had less than one minute to abandon ship before the ocean claimed her.

Hanging onto the bridge, Captain Usher was swept away by waves, bumped his head and finally came up alongside a raft to which he and 28 of his men clung.

In his account before the court later, Captain Usher recalled the events that followed: "Unfortunately the bottom of the raft got kicked out and this entailed much greater effort in holding on. The experience of clinging to this raft for 21 hours, with only a problematical chance of being picked up was indeed trying enough for the hardest. Luckily the water was warm, but the north west wind felt bitterly cold to those parts which were exposed. Sunset came and as it grew dark we looked for Gibbs Hill Light, or some other light, as we had no idea of our position, but nothing was seen, not even the glare. The 12 hours of night, with waves breaking over us, were an experience never to be forgotten and many gave up during that time. They got slowly exhausted and filled up with water and then slipped away. The raft was slowly losing its buoyancy and as everyone wanted, as far as possible, to sit on the edge, it capsized about every 20 minutes, which was exhausting; we all swallowed water in the process and the effort of climbing back again. Twelve held out until the end, when HMS Capetown was most thankfully sighted at about 10 the following day."

By the time the Capetown picked up the survivors, the buoyancy of the raft was such that it would not have supported anyone for another hour.

The Capetown, which had ridden the storm out safely at sea, had actually begun a search for the Valerian the previous day, but had been called way by the SOS of the steamer, the Eastway, which was about 70 miles south of Bermuda and in serious trouble.

The ss Eastway left Norfolk, Virginia for Brazil on October 18, 1926 with 7,500 tons of cargo and 1,760 tons of bunker coal.

She was commanded by Captain J.H Vanstone and carried a crew of 35.

On October 21, the ship received a wireless warning that a hurricane was approaching, but on the course she was steaming, it was assumed that she would encounter only its outer fringes.

This assumption proved a fatal miscalculation as by the 22nd, she was being swept by tremendous seas which smashed one of her port lifeboats, washed away much of deck gear and ripped off her hatch covers.

She also developed a slight list which increased as the day wore on.

Captain Vanstone personally supervised the efforts of his crew to place fresh covers over the hatches, and it was while engaged in this work without a lifeline that he was washed overboard and drowned.

At 5.38 p.m. the Eastway sent an SOS: "Urgent bunkers awash and hatches broken urgent no life belts."

This message was picked up by the steamship Luciline which returned the following message: "According to your position I am only 30 miles away am standing toward you at full speed suggest you send up rockets on chance I may see them."

An hour and a half later, the Eastway turned on her beam ends and sank with 22 crew members, including all the officers, except the third officer, referred to in various documents only as "Mr. Davey".

Crew had earlier unhooked the falls of the starboard lifeboat and cut the lashings so the boat floated clear when the vessel sank.

Twelve men who were swimming in the vicinity, managed to scramble into her and could only watch in horror and shock as the steamer sank with 22 of their friends and fellow crew still on board.

It was thought that those below were unable to come up when the vessel turned onto her beam ends, while those on the bridge were unable to get off because of the heavy seas and the ships' 15 degree list.

The Luciline arrived on the spot at about 10 p.m. and searched the area until noon the following day when she came upon the survivors who had drifted all night.

They were brought to Bermuda and transferred to the tug, Powerful at daybreak on October 24, 1926.

During a formal investigation in the United Kingdom in April the following year, it was revealed that the Eastway was overloaded by 141-tons when she left Virginia. This decision cost the crew their lives, and the registered manager, Watkin James Williams, was found "blame-worthy" and culpable, and ordered to pay 1,000 Pounds towards the costs of the inquiry.