Disasters at Sea

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Disasters at Sea Page 7

by Liz Mechem


  The first to spot the fatal iceberg was lookout Frederick Fleet. At 11:40 PM, he sounded the ship’s bell and telephoned to the bridge. Attempts to slow, stop, or turn her proved futile, and the Titanic sliced hard and irrevocably against the iceberg. The towering mountain of ice slashed the fore starboard side of the Titanic, buckling the steel plates of her hull.

  The ship was taking on water fast in her bow, and the watertight compartments proved inadequate. The unsinkable Titanic began to sink. First-class passengers’ cabins were closest to the lifeboat decks, so they assembled first. Some third-class passengers, berthed deep in the bowels of the boat, never even made it to the deck. The distance from the lifeboats may help explain the high proportion of first-and second-class passengers who were saved, though some have suspected that the steerage passengers were barred from the decks, or that the prosperous bribed their way to safety.

  A newsboy touts one of the biggest stories of the twentieth century.

  Upon hearing of the disaster, the passengers’ and crew’s families, friends, and even strangers mobbed the White Star Line offices in New York, desperate for news of the Titanic.

  LIVES SAVED, LIVES CLAIMED

  There were 2,228 passengers and crew aboard the Titanic on her maiden voyage, but the 20 lifeboats could hold only half this number. Surprisingly, this was in excess of the shipping regulations of the day—a statistic that bolstered the Titanic’s touted safety features. Nevertheless, the fact was glaring and immediate: there was not enough space aboard lifeboats for all to be saved.

  First Officer William Murdoch gave the order from the lifeboat deck: women and children were to evacuate first. Husbands and fathers bade tearful farewells to their families, as the lifeboats were lowered at an average of 60 percent capacity. One officer fired shots to warn men away from storming the lifeboats. Some 74 percent of the women on board survived and 52 percent of the children, but only 20 percent of the men made it away alive. Many men feared being branded a coward were they to board the lifeboats. Such misgivings didn’t plague J. Bruce Ismay, the White Star Line’s president, who survived the wreck and was widely vilified for it. Captain Smith went down with his ship.

  THE UNTHINKABLE SINKABLE SHIP

  By 2:05 AM, the Titanic’s bow was completely submerged. The stern lifted frightfully high above the water, and one of the four funnels collapsed, killing many in the water. The ship broke in two, and the bow sank immediately. The stern section floated for a few moments, then plunged into the sea.

  THE TITANIC ORPHANS

  KNOWN AS THE TITANIC ORPHANS because they were the only children rescued without a parent or guardian, Michel and Edmond Navratil had been traveling with their father, Michel. Michel Sr. managed to place his sons on the last lifeboat to leave the sinking ship. But their troubles were not over. Michel Sr. had separated from their mother in France and registered the family under assumed names, which made it difficult for authorities to identify the French-speaking toddlers. Weeks afterward, their mother recognized newspaper photos of the boys, and she traveled to New York to be reunited with them. Michel, the elder, was the last male survivor of the Titanic. He died in 2001.

  Michel and Edmond Navratil (at right holding a toy ship) pose for news photos.

  The RMS Carpathia, answering distress signals and rockets from the Titanic, worked her way through the dangerous ice fields and arrived on the scene two hours later. Captain Arthur Henry Rostron immediately ordered his sailors to begin picking up passengers from lifeboats. No one else survived; all those floating in the frigid water quickly fell victim to hypothermia. The Californian, another ship in the area, was widely blamed for not answering Titanic’s call immediately. She arrived some hours later to relieve the Carpathia, which proceeded to New York with the far-too-few survivors.

  A railing of the sunken Titanic rusts beneath the waves, at a depth of 2.5 miles (4 km).

  A group of survivors attempt to recover from their harrowing ordeal aboard the RMS Carpathia, which spent more than four hours trying to rescue as many Titanic passengers as she could before heading for New York.

  REDISCOVERY

  THE WRECK OF THE TITANIC lay where she had fallen until 1985, when a joint French-American expedition located her remains. Using manned submersibles and remote-operated photographic equipment, the wreck has now been explored and filmed. Many artifacts have been recovered, but the American and Canadian governments—and several outside organizations—dispute the ownership of the wreck’s contents. The rediscovery of the Titanic led to renewed interest in the so-called shipwreck of the century; the widely popular 1997 movie was only one of many books, plays, and films about the near-legendary tragedy of the Titanic.

  Eating utensils recovered from the ship

  WRECK DIVING

  The wreck of the Dunraven, a British steam and sail ship that sank in 1876 in the Red Sea carrying spices, cotton, and timber from India. After hitting a reef, she sank in 100 feet (30 m) of water. She lay undisturbed for a century before a team of archaeologists found her and stripped her of her contents. She now makes a home for marine life such as corals, nudibranchs, and the very rare ghost pipe fish.

  From the time of the first shipwrecks, the lure of sunken treasures and undersea exploration has exerted a powerful pull. Wreck-diving enthusiasts, or those who dive to explore shipwrecks, range from casual sport divers to dedicated professionals with elaborate gear at their disposal. The advances in diving equipment in the last half century have opened the underwater landscape to numerous discoveries of lost ships.

  The earliest known diving equipment was the diving bell—said to originate in Greece in the fourth century BCE—which allowed brief submersion in shallow waters. Later diving bells took various forms, mostly as enclosed chambers. By the early eighteenth century, wreck divers could stay underwater for as long as 30 minutes, certainly long enough to bring up a small bounty of treasure.

  DIVING SUITS

  Until the development of diving equipment, though, we could only dream of descending to the ocean floor. The enclosed diving suits introduced in the early nineteenth century made this possible. The downside was that the diver had to wear very heavy equipment, including a metal helmet, and remain tethered to a hose that delivered pumped-in air.

  A surface-supplied diving helmet, used when air is delivered from the surface. This technique is still preferred over scuba diving in certain situations—for example, when the water is polluted or possibly toxic.

  SCUBA AND SUBMERSIBLES

  The twentieth century brought the freedom of diving with scuba equipment, initially dubbed “Aqua-Lung” by its inventor, Jacques Cousteau. Scuba, an acronym for “self-contained underwater breathing apparatus,” was unveiled in 1943. It made possible deeper and longer dives—as deep as 430 feet (131 m). In 1964, scientists launched the first submersible—a small submarine used for undersea archaeology. Today, wreck divers use all this equipment and more to locate wrecks and recover their treasure. Depending on the jurisdiction, strict laws usually govern the ownership of a sunken ship’s treasure; some allocate a generous portion to the discoverer, some allocate none at all. Still, the thrill of wreck diving is lure enough for many.

  Although this submersible has many uses for marine scientists and oceanographers, Alvin may be most famous for her role in exploring the wreckage of the RMS Titanic in 1986. Launched from a support ship, she carried Dr. Robert Ballard and two companions to the wreckage of the sunken liner.

  A scuba tank and breathing apparatus give a diver the most freedom and flexibility.

  SEARCHING THE SEA

  BEFORE DIVERS CAN INVESTIGATE A WRECK, they first have to find it. Locating wrecks involves still more technology, primarily sonar equipment and magnetometers. Sonar, or sound navigation ranging, can map a region of the undersea landscape using sound waves. Magnetometers locate metal objects, such as the metal hull of a boat, or cannons, fittings, and metal artifacts on an older wooden ship. The wreck of the Titanic, at 12,460 feet (3,
965 m), was discovered in 1985 by a joint French-American crew. The expedition used advanced sonar equipment and an unmanned submersible equipped with video cameras, which relayed the findings back to the jubilant crew on its research boats.

  A magnetometer searches for a lost Civil War–era vessel. Too late to effect a rescue, NOAA and the Office of Naval Research (ONR) hope to recover some history.

  RMS Empress of Ireland

  COLLISION IN THE FOG

  The Empress of Ireland boarded 1,475 passengers and crew in Quebec City the afternoon of May 28, 1914. She was bound for Liverpool under the command of Captain Henry George Kendall, newly appointed to the post. The Empress stopped to take on mail before she prepared to head for the open water of the Atlantic. In the deepening fog, just after 2:00 AM on the 29th, Kendall sighted the Norwegian coal ship Storstad and prepared to pass port to port. Both ships entered the dense fog bank and slowed considerably to pass each other.

  Later accounts would differ as to why, but instead of proceeding in a straight line, the Storstad took a sharp turn to starboard and rammed the Empress of Ireland amidships, between her two smokestacks. The collier then backed off, leaving a 14-by-25-foot (4.3 x 7.6 m) hole in the Empress. Within minutes, the Empress of Ireland had rolled over onto her side. The ship hung suspended in the still water for just 10 minutes, enough time for scores of passengers to escape through portholes or clamber along the vertical decks to relative safety. Finally her stern rose, and the Empress of Ireland slipped into the inky depths of the St. Lawrence River, taking 1,012 victims with her.

  Most ocean liners of the day featured a bow that slanted backward, as this photo of Empress of Ireland shows. This design feature resulted in damage below the Empress of Ireland ’s waterline, dooming the ship and many of her passengers. Her fate quickly inspired a design shift to a forward-slanting bow.

  The ship’s surgeon and a pair of nurses work to save one of the victims of the Empress of Ireland tragedy. Only 42 of the ship’s 279 female passengers lived.

  TRAGEDY STRIKES

  Launched in January 1906, the Empress of Ireland was built as a steam liner in full turn-of-the-century style. Her 570-foot (174 m) length accommodated 780 first-and second-class passengers and an additional 750 in third class. The Empress made the run from Liverpool to Quebec City and back regularly and quickly, earning her Royal Mail Steamer title by carrying mail between England and the colonies.

  When the Norwegian collier struck the Empress of Ireland square amidships, the Storstad’s bow, reinforced for Nordic ice, cut through the liner’s skin like a can opener. As water poured in through the gaping hole, the ship rolled, exposing her starboard portholes to the river. Though regulations required all portholes to be sealed, they were nearly all wide open in an effort to ventilate the stuffy cabins below. Many victims drowned nearly instantly as water flooded their cabins. The increasingly severe list allowed the launch of only four lifeboats. Captain Kendall had been thrown from the bridge when the ship rolled, but he was rescued by one of his lifeboats and immediately began organizing rescue efforts, pulling victims from the water and shuttling them to shore.

  The eventual victim count was 1,012, making the disaster the worst in Canada’s history. The cause of the collision remained in dispute, with boards of inquiry in Canada and Norway each finding in favor of their respective countrymen.

  FELINE INTUITION?

  FOR TWO YEARS PRIOR TO HER SINKING, the Empress of Ireland had hosted a ship’s mouser, a stout ginger tabby by the name of Emmy. A loyal crew member, she never missed a trip. Until, that is, that fateful day, when Emmy simply would not stay onboard. Repeated attempts to corral her failed, and the Empress sailed cat-free. It is said that Emmy watched the Empress of Ireland steam off on her fateful final journey from atop the building that would later house the bodies of many of the disaster’s victims.

  Rows of coffins house the last remains of the Empress of Ireland victims at Rimouski, Canada, where she had last paused to load mail. Among the passengers was a large group from the Salvation Army, including members of the Canadian Salvation Army Band who were headed to London for a conference. All of them died. The death toll was also dismally high for children: only 4 of the 138 children onboard survived.

  SS Mont-Blanc

  A DISASTER FOR THE AGES

  The explosion, felt as far away as 186 miles (300 km), caused some soldiers to compare the immediate area to war-torn Flanders.

  The French tramp steamer Mont-Blanc loaded up her cargo in New York harbor in December 1917. Her load of high explosives was destined for the war in Europe. The manifest of TNT, picric acid (wet and dry), gun cotton, and benzol reads like a recipe for a bomb. German U-boats heavily patrolled the North Atlantic during World War I, making it dangerous territory for any ship—much less one loaded to the gills with explosives. Thus the SS Mont-Blanc headed north to Halifax, Nova Scotia, to join up with a convoy for the perilous journey across the Atlantic.

  The antisubmarine nets had already been closed for the night when the Mont-Blanc arrived in Halifax, so the ship had to lay to for the night. The next morning, the Mont-Blanc steamed into the harbor, joining the flotilla of boats organizing for departure in convoys. Inside the harbor, the Belgian relief ship Imo had also been delayed by the submarine nets. The crew of the Imo was anxious to head out of the harbor as soon as the nets were lowered. The Mont-Blanc was the second of four ships heading up into the harbor. In her haste to depart, the Imo passed the Stella Maris on the wrong side. When the Imo came around into the path of the Mont-Blanc, the two ships began a series of frantic whistle blasts, attempting to avoid a collision. As the ships drew near, they each executed evasive actions: the Mont-Blanc turned hard to port, while the Imo reversed her engines hard astern. The last-minute attempts to avoid collision proved futile, and the two ships collided. Within 10 minutes the Mont-Blanc was afire, and 15 minutes after that, she exploded in a 3-kiloton (2,700 metric tons) blast that was the largest human-made explosion until the atomic bomb.

  THE HALIFAX EXPLOSION

  Incredibly, the crew of the Mont-Blanc abandoned ship when the fire broke out. All but one escaped with their lives. Other ships in the harbor and people in the surrounding towns would not be so lucky. As the fire on the Mont-Blanc worsened, she drifted onto a pier, which also then caught fire. Firefighters, sailors, and passersby crowded around Halifax Harbour to watch the exciting event, with no notion of the surprise that lay in store. Hundreds of spectators and rescuers were killed instantly when the fire reached the high explosives, setting them off in one gigantic cataclysm. In all, more than 2,000 people are thought to have perished, and thousands more were injured.

  The blast set off a shock wave that collapsed walls, crushed buildings, and sent a roiling cloud of smoke and debris 20,000 feet (6,000 m) in the air. A gun barrel from the Mont-Blanc came to rest 3 miles (5 km) from the harbor, and the ship’s anchor came down 2.5 miles (4 km) away. Then came the shrapnel, molten metal that rained down on the harbor, maiming, killing, and starting fires. Finally, a tsunami, a gigantic wave triggered by the massive displacement of water, rolled over the town, destroying structures, and drowning even more victims than were killed by the blast. The final indignity came in the form of a blizzard, which hit several hours after the explosion and caused additional death and misery to the anguished citizens of Halifax.

  FLOTSAM & JETSAM

  Antisubmarine nets stretched the width of Halifax Harbour during World War I. The chain-link net prevented both subs and torpedoes from entering the harbor.

  Overlooking a wasteland of devastation, the Imo can just be seen across the harbor through the smoke from the explosion of the Mont-Blanc. The blast razed one ship and completely destroyed a pier.

  Some Halifax buildings, such as St. Joseph’s Convent, took damage too heavy to repair. It took years before all buildings were restored or replaced.

  Antisubmarine nets stretch across a harbor in Halifax, Nova Scotia.

  The Andrea Doria


  LAST OF THE GREAT LUXURY LINERS

  The mid-twentieth century marked the end of the transatlantic luxury liner. Air travel became more affordable and widely accessible and reduced a five-days’ journey to five hours. But the era of luxury liners went out with a bang. In the postwar era, many shipping companies produced jewels of the sea, notably the Italian Line with its sleek sister ships of the 1950s, the Cristoforo Colombo and the Andrea Doria. Both ships were named for famous citizens of Genoa, the latter a sixteenth-century naval hero.

  The Andrea Doria was the Italian Line’s flagship, fashioned as a seagoing work of art that showcased the height of Italian design and craftsmanship. She accommodated three classes of passengers, supplying each class with its own outdoor swimming pool. Her fittings were lavish and modern; all cabins, even those in tourist-class, were air-conditioned. At 700 feet (213 m) long, and with a speed of 23 knots, the Andrea Doria was elegant and fast. Her one center funnel, painted with the Italian Line’s signature red, white, and green colors, gave her a streamlined look.

  The crowded shipping lanes were both bane and balm for the Doria, because of the availability of ships in the area that could rush to the stricken vessel’s rescue.

  On her 1956 final journey across the Atlantic, veteran seaman Captain Piero Calamai commanded the Andrea Doria. She departed Genoa for New York on July 17, 1956, and made good time across the pond. Approaching Nantucket Island, the Andrea Doria ran into heavy fog. The night of July 25, 1956, she collided with the Swedish-American liner Stockholm. Though most of her passengers were saved, the spectacular Andrea Doria was lost to the sea. For many, her passing marked the end of an era.

  RADAR AND FOG

  Just a few hours before it struck the Andrea Doria broadside, the Swedish-American liner MS Stockholm had departed New York, en route to Sweden. The ship, built for northern seas, had a bow reinforced for ice. The Stockholm’s captain, Harry Nordenson, retired for the night, leaving the bridge under the control of third mate Johann-Ernst Carstens, with an injunction to summon him immediately if the ship should encounter fog. The shipping lanes along the East Coast of the United States were notoriously crowded, and the area off the coast of Nantucket, Massachusetts, is notoriously foggy.

 

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