Shipwreck!

by Frieda Wishinksy

  Soon after that everything had changed.

  What had they hit? The ghost ship? It had been so close. Could the two ships have collided? But even if they had, how could that have destroyed the Empress? She was so solid. So strong. Everyone said so. But what else could have happened? What else could they have hit?

  It was getting quieter and quieter around him. How much longer could he stay afloat? He was so cold, so achy, so tired. His eyes began to close again. It was as if they had a will of their own.

  Don’t sleep. You can’t sleep. If you sleep, you might never wake up.

  He forced his eyes open again. He looked out through the darkness.

  Were his eyes playing tricks on him? Was that a boat in the distance? With his last ounce of energy he shouted, “I’m alive! Please come! Please help me!”

  He lifted one arm off the dresser and waved. He waved again and again. Back and forth. Over and over. With the other arm he struggled to keep hold of the dresser.

  No one waved back. No one heard him. Sadness and despair gripped him.

  And then he saw movement. It was a small boat. A man was waving from a lifeboat!

  Albert locked his eyes on the spot. A faint sound was coming from it.

  “We’re coming. Hold on.” He could hear them now. He could see them now. There were several people in the lifeboat. Two of them were rowing. He only had to hold on until the lifeboat came.

  “Hold on,” called the voice. The lifeboat was drawing closer.

  “We see you.” The voices were clear now. The lifeboat stood out of the darkness like a light.

  “Hurry! Please!” Albert called out. His teeth chattered. His arms felt as heavy as bricks. He didn’t know how much longer he could cling to the dresser. If he let go, there was nothing else to keep him afloat.

  Hold on. Hold on.

  His fingers began to slide off the dresser.

  CHAPTER TEN

  Strong arms grabbed Albert. Two sailors hoisted him up into the lifeboat and wrapped him in blankets.

  An older man sat across from him in the boat. His eyes were closed, but he was breathing. His black jacket was ripped. His white shirt was dirty and tattered. He had no shoes. The man opened his eyes for an instant. Pain streaked his face. “Dora,” he mumbled. “Dora.” Tears rolled down his cheeks. He closed his eyes again and groaned.

  Albert looked down at his own feet. He had one shoe on. The other shoe and sock must have fallen off in the water. He touched his hair. It was matted and grimy.

  Shivering, he nestled into the blankets. They were scratchy, but it didn’t matter — they were dry and warm. He stroked the solid wood of the boat and leaned against it. His chest hurt when he breathed. His arms and legs were still numb with cold, but he was alive! He was out of the icy St. Lawrence. He was safe.

  He thanked the two sailors over and over again. He told them his name. The sailor with a wide face, dimpled chin and sandy hair said that his name was Philip. He seemed to be in charge. The other sailor, Jan, was younger, with dark, stringy hair.

  Philip patted Albert’s arm. “Rest. No need to speak now.”

  Albert closed his eyes. All he felt was the rise and fall of the boat as it moved through the water. He drifted in and out of sleep.

  * * *

  Albert woke with a jolt when the boat stopped. The sailors pulled in a young woman in a ripped nightgown. She had a dazed look in her eyes, and she kept murmuring, “My husband. Where is he?” She covered her face with her hands and sobbed.

  Minutes later they rescued a young man in a lifebelt. He was lean and tall with curly brown hair. His face was smeared with dirt and oil. His left eye and his lips were swollen. He sat back against the boat, breathing hard.

  Albert rubbed his eyes. They still stung from the debris and salt in the water. It was hard to see clearly. Could it be?

  “Lewis?” said Albert, stretching his hand out to the man. “It’s me. Albert!”

  The young man looked up at Albert. “I … I’m sorry. My name is Daniel, not Lewis. Is Lewis your brother?”

  “Lewis is my cousin. You look a lot like him.”

  Daniel ran his fingers through his hair. “I hope your cousin is all right. I jumped just before the ship sank.” Daniel coughed. “Sorry. It’s hard to talk.”

  Daniel closed his eyes as the sailors rowed on. They peered out into the river and called again and again, “Anyone there? Call out if you’re there. We’ve come to help.”

  But all they heard were oars slapping the water. They rowed on and on.

  Then Philip called out, “Listen. I think I hear someone.”

  The sailors tried to locate the sounds. “Where are you?” they shouted.

  “Here. Please. Help me,” called a voice. The voice was hoarse and far away. “Please. Come quickly.”

  One of the sailors pointed. “I think that’s where he is.”

  The sailors rowed hard. They kept calling, “Are we near you? Tell us if you can hear us.”

  “Hurry.” The voice sounded fainter.

  “Do you see him?” asked Philip.

  “No,” said Jan.

  Philip and Jan called out over and over, but there was no reply.

  “I fear he’s gone,” said Philip. He swallowed hard and looked down. “The water is awfully cold. It would be hard to last very long, even with a lifebelt.”

  His words sent a chill through Albert. If this lifeboat hadn’t arrived when it had, he might be dead, too. He was rescued just in time.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  As the sailors rowed on, an eerie silence hung over the river. Albert closed his eyes. It was too painful to see more broken furniture and lifeless bodies float past.

  Another lifeboat rowed up near them.

  “Any luck? Did you find anyone?” called Philip.

  “Just one woman this time. We found her clinging to a dead body. She’s in terrible shape. We found more survivors the first time out. We’re heading back to the ship. How about you?”

  “We have four survivors with us. We found more people the first time out, too.”

  “What a nightmare. Stay safe, Philip. See you back at the Storstad.”

  “We’ll take one more look around. I want to look one more time just in case … Then we’ll join you.”

  “The Storstad?” said Albert. “What kind of ship is that?”

  Philip took a deep breath. “It’s a Norwegian collier. We carry coal.”

  “Were you close by when the Empress sank? Do you know what happened?”

  Philip bit his lip.

  “Please tell me what happened,” said Albert.

  Philip coughed. “We … we …” He cleared his throat. “The Storstad accidentally rammed into your ship. The fog was so dense … As soon as the accident happened, Captain Andersen ordered our lifeboats out to help. All our lifeboats have gone out several times. We’ve rescued some people but not as many as we’d hoped.”

  Suddenly the lifeboat stopped. A woman was floating nearby.

  “She’s wearing a lifebelt. I think I saw her move,” shouted Jan. They rowed closer to the woman. Her eyes didn’t blink. Her face was like a frozen mask. She was dead.

  “Row back to the ship,” said Philip. “It’s time we returned.”

  Albert shivered and wrapped the scratchy wool blanket tighter around him. He tried to block out the look on the woman’s face. Did she know she was dying? Did she die suddenly or lose consciousness and drift into an endless sleep?

  What happened to his father, his family? What happened to Grace and her parents? Would anyone be alive?

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Albert stared at the Storstad. It didn’t look like a ghost ship now. It was a hard-working, gritty vessel that had dealt the Empress a death blow.

  He watched as the three other survivors from the Empress were helped off the lifeboat. Daniel moaned with each step as he made his way slowly up the shaky rope ladder.

  “My husband. I must find him,” sobbed the young wom
an. She trembled as she climbed the swaying ladder.

  The old man’s glassy eyes stared ahead as he climbed. He kept staring as the ship’s crewmembers helped him on deck.

  It was Albert’s turn to step off the lifeboat. He was dizzy when he stood up. He almost fell backwards, but Philip grabbed him and helped him regain his balance. Albert’s legs shook on the rope ladder. He held the rough rope tightly so he wouldn’t slip.

  The deck of the Storstad overflowed with people. Some survivors huddled in a corner drinking hot tea or coffee. Many were wrapped in blankets. Others wore ill-fitting clothes the Storstad crew had provided. Some were wrapped in curtains, while others covered themselves with canvas sacks. The survivors had been given whatever clothing was available.

  The old man from the lifeboat tapped a sailor on the arm. “Have you seen Dora Smith?” he asked.

  “No. Sorry. Ask around,” said the sailor.

  The old man repeated the question to the next sailor. When his response was no, too, he tapped on the arm of a woman wrapped in a blanket.

  “I am so sorry, but no,” she said.

  The old man asked person after person about his wife. With each no, his eyes grew sadder, heavier, more distant.

  Albert walked around the deck looking at faces, peering into corners, desperate to find his family. Albert didn’t see anyone from the Salvation Army.

  “Here, put this on. Get out of those wet clothes,” said Philip. He held out a pair of pants and a shirt.

  “Whose are these?” asked Albert.

  “They’re mine. They may be a bit big for you, but they’re clean and warm. Go on. Put them on.”

  Albert nodded and followed Philip into a corridor off the deck. No one was around as Albert slipped into the clothes. Philip was right. The clothes were too big. The pants hung down and dragged on the floor. The sleeves dangled over Albert’s hands. But it felt good to be wearing something dry and warm.

  “Thanks,” said Albert. He smiled for the first time since the Empress was hit. “How do I look?”

  “A bit like a clown. But don’t worry,” said Philip, smiling back, “you can roll the sleeves and the legs up. We can’t have you tripping and breaking a leg. Are you still dizzy?”

  “I’m better, but I have to get used to walking around on a ship again, especially in oversized clothes.”

  Albert imagined what Grace would say if she could see him now. She’d tell him that the rest of his clothes matched his big Stetson hat.

  It felt like a week since he and Grace had stood in line together waiting to board the Empress. It felt like a week since he’d first seen the ghost ship approach. It felt like a week since they’d gazed out at the calm river in the early hours of the morning, commenting on the sudden appearance of fog.

  But it wasn’t a ghost ship. It was the Storstad. It wasn’t a week. It was only a few hours ago. In those few hours Albert’s whole life had changed. He wasn’t going to England. The band would never perform there. His uniform was gone. His hat was at the bottom of the sea with his cornet. So many people he knew were probably gone, too.

  Albert rolled up the legs and the sleeves of Philip’s clothes. “Thanks for the clean clothes. I wish I could take a bath and wash up.”

  “You will. Soon. We’re heading for shore.”

  “Do you know if there’s a list of survivors?”

  “I think a list is being put together now. It will take some time. Some people were picked up by other vessels. We should know more when we reach land. Who were you travelling with, Albert?”

  “My father, my uncle, my aunt and my cousin Lewis. We were travelling with the Salvation Army. How do I let my mother and brother back home know that I’m all right?”

  “They’ll start notifying family as quickly as they can. Try not to think too much about any of that now. Think about getting stronger. You’ve been through a lot.”

  “But I have to know what’s happened to my family. I have to know what happened to Grace O’Riley and her parents, too. We were together on the deck. Then we jumped.”

  “I’ll start asking around, but don’t despair if you don’t know anything immediately. The Storstad only picked up some of the survivors. I’m sure there are many more, picked up by other vessels. The Lady Evelyn and the Eureka sailed out as soon as they were aware of the collision.”

  Philip was trying to be hopeful, but Albert couldn’t help wondering how many people could have survived such a powerful impact. How many people could have made it off the ship before it slid into the river? It had happened so quickly. There was little time to react.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  “There are some people down below in the boiler rooms,” said Philip. “Perhaps there’s someone down there you know. Come on. I’ll go down with you.”

  Albert and Philip headed down the stairs.

  It was hot and crowded in the boiler room. The air was thick, and it was hard to breathe. Albert coughed so hard he almost gagged. The light from the furnaces and greasy lamps stung his eyes.

  The room was jammed with people milling about, rubbing their hands to warm up and drying their wet clothes. Some passengers, too weak and injured to stand alone, leaned against others. Many looked dazed. Others grimaced in pain. Some cried as if they couldn’t stop. Some called out names. One woman kept repeating, “Why?” over and over. One man cursed.

  There were no children in the room. The realization made Albert shudder and tears well up in his eyes. There had been almost 150 children aboard the Empress. He’d heard that at dinner. Had they all died except him?

  And where were all the Salvation Army people? There was no one he knew here. Someone from the Salvation Army had to be alive. He couldn’t be the only survivor. But what if he was? He couldn’t let himself think about that. It hurt too much.

  “Please, can we go back up?” he asked Philip.

  Philip patted his arm. “Of course.”

  They walked back up to the deck.

  Albert gripped the railing and exhaled.

  “You need something to warm you up. How about some hot soup?”

  “All right. Thank you.”

  “Wait here. I’ll bring it to you.”

  As Albert waited, he sat down on the hard deck. A man sat beside him, with his back to Albert. There was something familiar about him. The man turned and leaned against the railing. Albert couldn’t believe it! It was Captain Kendall, the captain of the Empress! Albert remembered how the captain had toured the deck in his crisp uniform, meeting passengers, shaking hands, wishing them all a good journey when they boarded the ship. Now his uniform was dirty, ragged and torn.

  He sat with his face in his palms. When he looked up, his eyes were glazed, like he’d seen a ghost.

  Dr. Grant, the Empress’s doctor, approached the captain. Albert recognized him from the ship, too. The doctor had listened to them play on deck. He’d shaken hands with everyone in the band.

  “Here. Have some brandy,” the doctor told the captain, handing him a dusty bottle. “It will warm you up.”

  The captain looked up and shook his head. “I never drink liquor, doctor, and I can’t now. Thank you anyway.”

  “You shouldn’t have stayed out so long looking for survivors. You’re hurt and exhausted, Henry.”

  “I had to go. They are my passengers. The Empress was my ship. She was my responsibility. Why didn’t the Storstad stop? I signalled her. All this would have been avoided if she’d stopped.”

  “I am so sorry this has happened,” said the doctor. “The fog was thick. It was hard to see anything through it.”

  Captain Kendall shook his head. He looked out over the water. “Look. The Lady Evelyn is approaching. She’ll be transporting survivors to Rimouski. From there, they’ll make their way home. You go on ahead, doctor. You’re needed. We couldn’t have managed without you.”

  The doctor patted the captain on the back and hurried off to assist in moving passengers to the Lady Evelyn. Soon after, the captain stood u
p, pulled back his shoulders and walked over to help the doctor.

  Albert looked up as the Lady Evelyn drew closer. Soon he’d be heading home.

  Home. It seemed so far away and yet he’d been home only a few days ago.

  Philip brought hot soup, brown bread and a cup of water. Albert sipped the soup. It was thin, almost a broth, with a few onions and potatoes floating around, but it tasted good. Albert hadn’t realized how hungry he was until then.

  As he ate, he watched the Lady Evelyn stop beside the Storstad. He watched Dr. Grant direct the transfer of the living and dead. Albert looked away as the dead were brought out. Someone he knew might be among them. He put down his soup bowl and waited for the sad procession to end.

  Next the severely injured were carried aboard. Those who could walk would follow. Albert stood up. He handed Philip the empty bowl and cup.

  Philip put his arm around Albert’s shoulder. “You are a brave boy, Albert. I hope you find your family and your friend. Don’t give up hope. You made it. They could have made it, too.”

  “Thank you again for rescuing me. Thank you for everything.”

  Albert waved to Philip as he joined the other survivors aboard the Lady Evelyn.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  Albert looked around the crowded Lady Evelyn. That ship was usually loaded with mail. It transported letters and postcards from the cruise liners to the train in Rimouski, where they were carried on to cities and towns around the world.

  The steward on the Empress had promised to post Albert’s card to his mother and Eddie so it could be picked up by the Lady Evelyn.

  And here he was on that very same mail ship. But now it had picked up the dead, the injured, the survivors of the Empress instead of letters and postcards.

  Albert’s stomach tightened. How awful to receive a letter from someone who died just hours after it was written. When Albert wrote his card he was excited about the trip across the Atlantic. He couldn’t wait to reach England and watch the Salvation Army band perform. And now … now he was on his way home.