A paper from 1923 called The Odyssey of Thomas Muir (Marjorie Masson and J. F. Jameson) describes the episode. Among the people forced ashore, one died, one escaped to Guayaquil, a few stayed in Mexico and a few were sent on to Havana. NB, If anyone can yet show what happened to those last people sent towards Spain, I will accept their answer over this one.
Muir was "transported" to Australia after being convicted in Edinburgh of circulating the work of Thomas Paine. Port Jackson is Sydney Harbour, where Dorr let Muir and two servants board clandestinely. A handful of others also managed to get on board with less intrigue. When the Otter and Sutil met in Nootka, Captain Dorr, with uncomfortably many people aboard, gave Captain Tovar five sailors in exchange for provisions, and Muir also got onto the Sutil.
Both ships stopped separately in California. Muir had a nice visit with Governor Borica and continued to San Blas, where Tovar was arrested and dismissed for bringing him. Muir lost an eye when the ship bringing him to Cadiz was attacked by a British squadron. Still a political case, Muir died in poverty in Paris.
Borica sold Dorr provisions but would not let him disembark anyone. Then, on subsequent nights, Dorr put ashore five and six people at gunpoint:
Of the eleven, three were of the original crew, Andrew
Lambert, carpenter, and his apprentice, of Boston, and a wig-maker
from London. One was a Briton marooned at Nootka by his captain. The rest are reported as stowaways from Botany Bay, two of
them sailors, one a carpenter, one a tailor, two blacksmiths, one of
whom was a Philadelphia negro. The rest were from London, Liverpool, and Lincoln. The woman, Jane Lambert, of London, admitted
that she was a transported convict, though in later testimony she constantly maintained that she was married to Andrew Lambert in Boston years before and had a daughter of thirteen living there in the
care of grandparents. But as her age on this first mention is given
as twenty-seven, and Lambert's as twenty-five, we are under no obligation to believe her.
Borica put his guests to work, at smithwork and carpentry, until
finally, nearly a year later, he found a chance to send them to San
Blas, where they arrived late in November, 1797. Then the papers,
multiplied in the usual tedious manner of Spanish officials, and now
reposing in the Mexican archives, show them journeying up to Mexico
and from there to Vera Cruz, whence in July, 1798, most of the are sent off to Havana. One had died, one had escaped as a stowaway on a galleon to Guayaquil. Andrew and Jane Lambert manifesting a willingness to become Catholics, and Peter Pritchard of
Liverpool already such, are encouraged to remain; but while Andrew
Lambert works steadily at his trade as a ship carpenter in Vera Cruz,
Jane is a source of much trouble to the authorities, falling into habits
of intemperance, and going away, for a cure apparently, and residing
in the house of Don Juan Oquelli (O'Kelly) in Mexico and of Don
Tomas Murphy in Jalapa, much respected citizens, who look out for
her as well as they can. It is an interesting picture of humble life
in Mexico at the time-the affectionate but illiterate letters which
Lambert sends after her, written for him by a Spanish lady of much
kindness but little orthography; the English-speaking Father Nicolas
Arsdequi (Archdeacon) who received them into the church; the details of their finances, their journeyings, their progress in the catechism. But what most impresses one in their story is, as in the case
of Muir, the ceaseless and minute vigilance with which the whole
administration of New Spain, from the viceroy down, kept its eye
upon all the doings of every foreigner, and struggled to preserve
state and church from contaminating influences.