Collection 1980 - Yondering (v5.0) (12 page)

“There was a lot of running around, and we started forward, looking for the mate. Before we’d made no more than a half-dozen steps, the signal came for boat stations, and I went up on the boat deck. Last I saw of Stu he was trying to break open a jammed door, and I could hear people behind it.

“We must have hit pretty hard because she was starting to settle fast, going down by the head with a heavy list to starb’rd. I was mighty scared because I remembered that starb’rd half door, and—”

“What about the half door, Worden? What was wrong with it?”

“Nothing at all, commissioner,” the company man interrupted. “The company inspector—”

“Just a minute, Mr. Winstead.” The commissioner spoke sharply. “Who is conducting this inquiry?”

“Well, I—”

“Proceed with your story, Worden.”

“The half door was badly sprung, sir. Somebody said the ship had been bumped a while back, and I guess they paid no mind to repairs. Anyway, it wasn’t no bother unless they was loaded too heavy, and—”

“What do you mean, Worden? Was the ship overloaded?”

Winstead scowled at Worden, his lips drawing to a thin, angry line.

“Well, sir, I guess I ain’t got no call to speak, but—”

“You just tell what happened at the time of the wreck, Worden. That will be sufficient!” Winstead said, interrupting.

“Mr. Winstead! I will thank you not to interrupt this man’s story again. I am conducting this inquiry, and regardless of the worth of what Worden may have to say, he is the sole remaining member of the crew. As a seafaring man of many years’ experience, he understands ships, and he was there when it happened. I intend to hear
all
—let me repeat,
all
—he has to say. We certainly are not going to arrive at any conclusions by concealing anything. If your vessel was in proper condition, you have nothing to worry about, but I must say your attitude gives rise to suspicion.” He paused, glancing up at the reporters who were writing hurriedly. “Now, Worden, if you please. Continue your story.”

“Well, sir, I was standing by number three hatch waiting for the last loads to swing aboard so’s I could batten down the hatch, an’ I heard Mr. Jorgenson—he was the mate—say to Mr. Winstead here that he didn’t like it at all. He said loading so heavy with that bad door was asking for trouble, and he went on to mention that bad bulkhead amidships.

“I don’t know much about it, sir, except what he said and the talk in the fo’c’s’le about the bulkhead between hatches three and four. One of the men who’d been chipping rust down there said you didn’t dare chip very hard or you’d drive your hammer right through, it was that thin. When I was ashore clearing the gangway, I saw she was loaded down below the Plimsoll marks.”

“Weren’t you worried, Worden? I should think that knowing the conditions you would have been.”

“No, sir. Generally speaking, men working aboard ship don’t worry too much. I’ve been going to sea quite a while now, and it’s always the other ships that sink, never the one a fellow’s on. At least that’s the way it is until something happens. We don’t think about it much, and if she sinks, then she sinks, and that’s all there is to it.”

“I see.”

“Yes, sir. There was trouble with that half door before we were three days out. Me an’ a couple of others were called to help Chips caulk that half door. You know—it’s a door in the ship’s side through which cargo is loaded. Not all ships have ’em. That door had been rammed some time or another, and it didn’t fit right. In good weather or when she carried a normal load it was all right.

“But three days out we had a spot of bad weather; some of that cargo shifted a mite, and she began to make water, so we had to recaulk that door.

“To get back to that night, sir. When I got to my boat station, I saw one of the officers down on the deck with his head all stove in. I don’t know whether he got hit with something or whether it was done by the bunch of passengers who were fighting over the boat. Ever’body was yellin’ an’ clawin’, so I waded in an’ socked a few of them and got them straightened out.

“I told them they’d damn well better do what they were told because I was the only one who knew how to get that lifeboat into the water. After that they quieted down some. A couple of them ran off aft, hunting another boat, but I got busy with the lifeboat cover.

“All of a sudden it was still, so quiet it scared you. The wind still blowing and big waves all around but ghostly still. You could hear a body speak just like I’m speakin’ now. It was like everything quieted down to let us die in peace. I could tell by the feel of her that we hadn’t long. She was settlin’ down, and she had an ugly, heavy feel to her.

“Mister, that was a tryin’ time. All those people who’d been yellin’ an’ fightin’ stood there lookin’ at me, and one little fellow in a gray suit—he had a tie on, an’ everything. He was Jewish, I think. He asked me what he could do, and I told him to get to the other end of the boat, to loose the falls and lower away when I did.

“I got the boat cover off, and we got the boat into the water, and the ship was down so far and canted over—a bad list to her—that it was no problem gettin’ those few folks into the lifeboat.

“I took a quick look around. The boat ’longside was already in the water, and there were two A.B.s with it, Fulton an’ Jaworski, it was. They had maybe thirty people in that boat, and I saw one of the stewards there, too. There was nobody else in sight, but I could hear some yelling forward.

“Just then she gave a sort of shudder, and I jumped into the boat and told the Jew to cast off. He had trouble because she was rising and falling on the water, but a woman helped him. I didn’t know who she was then, but later I found out it was that actress, Hazel Ryan.

“We shoved off, and I got oars into the water, and we started looking for others. When we got out a ways, I could see Sparks—one of them, anyway, in the radio shack.

“Then the ship gave a kind of lunge and went down by the head. She just dipped down and then slid right away, going into the water on her beam ends with all the port-side boats just danglin’ there, useless, as they couldn’t be got into the water. At the last minute, as she went under, I saw a man with an ax running from boat to boat cutting the falls. He was hoping they’d come up floating, and two or three of them did.

“All of a sudden I see a man in the water. He was a pleasant-looking man with gray hair, and he was swimming. He looked so calm I almost laughed. ‘Cold, isn’t it?’ he says, and then he just turns and swims away, cool as you please. You’d have thought the beach wasn’t fifty feet away.

“It’s things like that fairly take your wind, sir, and there I was, trying to pull the lifeboat away from the ship and hopin’ for the best.

“I turned my head once and looked back. Mostly I was trying to guide the boat through wreckage that was already afloat. When I looked back—this was just before she went under—I glimpsed somebody standin’ on the bridge, one arm through the pilot-house window to hang on, and he was lighting his pipe with his free hand.

“It just didn’t seem like it could be happening. There I was just minutes before, a-comin’ off watch, all set for a little shuteye, and now here I was in a lifeboat, and the ship was goin’ down.

“There must have been nearly a hundred people in the water and not a whisper out of any of them. Like they was all in shock or somethin’ of the kind. Once a guy did yell to somebody else. Then something exploded under water—maybe the boilers busted. I wouldn’t know. Anyway, when it was over, a lot of those folks who’d been in the water were gone. I fetched the bow of my boat around and rowed toward something white floating in the water. It was a woman, and I got her into the boat.”

“Was that Hazel Ryan?” a reporter asked.

“No, it was Lila, a stewardess. Then I held the boat steady whilst another man climbed in. He pointed out three people clingin’ to a barrel. I started for them.

“The sea was rough, and folks would disappear behind a wave, and sometimes when you looked, they weren’t there anymore. Those people were havin’ a time of it, tryin’ to hang to that barrel, so I got to them first, and folks helped them aboard. The Ryan woman was one of them.

“I’ll give her this. First moment she could speak, she asked if there was anything she could do, and I said just to set quiet and try to get warm. If I needed help, I’d ask for it.

“It was funny how black everything was, yet you could see pretty well for all of that. You’d see a white face against the black water, and by the time you got there, it was gone.

“One time I just saw an arm. Woman’s, I think it was. She was right alongside the boat, and I let go an oar an’ grabbed for her, but her arm slipped right through my fingers, and she was gone.

“Some of those we’d picked up were in panic and some in shock. That little Jewish fellow with the necktie and all, he didn’t know a thing about the sea, but he was cool enough. We moved people around, got the boat trimmed, and I got her bow turned to meet the sea and started to try to ride her out.”

“What about the radio?”

“We didn’t think about that for long. At least I didn’t. There hadn’t been much time, and the chances were slim that any message got off. It all happened too fast.

“Sparks was in there, and he was sending. I am sure of that, but he hadn’t any orders, and most shipmasters don’t want any May Day or SOS goin’ out unless they say. If he sent it, he sent it on his own because the old man never made the bridge.”

“The man you saw lighting his pipe?”

“Jorgenson, I think. He was watch officer, but they were changing watch, so I don’t know. He wasn’t heavy enough for the old man.

“Anyway, I’d no time to think of them. The sea was making up, and I was havin’ the devil’s own time with that boat. She’d have handled a lot easier if we’d had a few more people aboard.

“Lila, she was hurting. Seemed like she was all stove up inside, and the shock was wearing off. She was feeling pain, turning and twisting like, and the Ryan woman was trying to help. She and that little Jew, they worked over her, covering her with coats, trying to tuck them under so she’d ride easier. The rest just sat and stared.”

“No other boats got off?”

“I don’t know—except that boat with Fulton and Jaworski. They were good men, and they’d do what could be done. The ship had taken a bad list, so I don’t think many of the boats on the topside could be launched at all.”

“How was the weather?”

“Gettin’ worse, sir. There was nobody to spell me on the oars because nobody knew anything about handling a boat in a heavy sea. I shipped the oars and got hold of the tiller, which made it a mite easier.

“Lila had passed out; spray was whipping over the boat. I was hanging to that tiller, scared ever’ time a big one came over that it would be the last of us. There was no way to play. You just had to live from one sea to the next.”

“How long did the storm last?”

“About two days. I don’t rightly remember because I was so tired everything was hazy. When the sea calmed down enough, I let Schwartz have the tiller. I’d been gripping it so hard and so long I could hardly let go.”

“You were at the tiller forty-eight hours without relief?”

“Yes, sir. Maybe a bit more. But after that she began to settle down, and the sun came out.”

“The boat was provisioned according to regulations?”

“Yes, sir, We’d some trouble about water later but not much.”

“How about the crew and the officers? Were they efficient in your opinion?”

“Sure. Yes, they were okay. I’ve been going to sea quite a spell, and I never have seen any seaman or officer shirk his job. It ain’t bravery nor lack of it, just that he knows his job and has been trained for it.

“Sometimes you hear about the crew rushing the boats or being inefficient. I don’t believe it ever happens. They’re trained for the job, and it is familiar to them. They know what they are to do, and they do it.

“Passengers are different. All of a sudden everything is different. There’s turmoil an’ confusion; there’s folks runnin’ back and forth, and the passengers don’t know what’s going on.

“Sometimes one of them will grab a crewman and yell something at him, and the crewman will pull loose and go about his business. The passenger gets mad and thinks they’ve been deserted by the crew when chances are that seaman had something to do. Maybe his boat station was elsewhere. Maybe he’d been sent with a message for the engineer on watch below.

“Maybe those crewmen you hear about rushing the boats are just getting there to get the boat cover off and clear the falls. This wasn’t my first wreck, and I’ve yet to see a crewman who didn’t stand by.”

“How long before she sank?”

“Fifteen minutes, give or take a few. It surely wasn’t more, though. It might have been no more than five. We’d made quite a bit of water before the cargo shifted and she heeled over. With that half door under water—well, I figure that door gave way and she just filled up and sank.”

“Mr. Commissioner?” Winstead asked. “I’d like permission to ask this man a few questions. There are a few matters I’d like to clear up.”

“Go ahead.”

“Now, my man, if you’d be so kind. How many were in the boat when you got away from the scene of the wreck?”