Five months on a derelict; or, Adventures on a floating wreck in the Pacific

Front matter

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Preface

In “ Five Months on a Derelict,” the author tells a story of the sea connected with the wreck in the China Sea of the Ketrel, a full-rigged ship bound from Liverpool to Yokohama, Japan.

As the Ketrel was sinking its crew took to the boats. In one of these boats, commanded by the first mate, Lieut. Arthur Harding, were Hiram Higgenbotham, boatswain of the Ketrel, Harold Arthur Harding, and John Parker Jackson, young English lads, and two of the crew. During subsequent storms that continued for five days, the boat was wrecked during a dark night by a derelict brig. With the exception of the two of the crew, who were swept overboard during the storms, they all safely reached the deck of the brig accompanied by a collie dog they had picked up from a floating boat.

The derelict brig, although water-logged, owing to its load of lumber and cork, as well as to the presence of water-tight compartments, floated sufficiently high to leave its cabin and its hold between decks free from water. They therefore found in a part of its cargo stored in the hold between decks, sufficient canne.d goods and other groceries to supply them with food for several months. Moreover, the water tanks were intact, and nearly filled with fresh water.

PREFACE

In the story that follows the author has endeavored not only to interest the reader by the strange and exciting adventures the men and boys experienced during a period of five months in the Pacific, but at the same time to give them no little information concerning both the causes of ocean currents and the physical features of the Pacific Ocean.

An extended experience with boys leads the author to hope that besides furnishing attractive reading matter, the book will not be destitute of educational value.

Philadelphia, January, 1908. J*

Contents

CHAPTER PAGE

I. The Ketrel of London u

II. Concerning Derelicts 22

CHAPTER I The Ketrel of London

“ Something in sight on our weather bow, sir ! ” cried the lookout on the Ketrel of London, to the second mate, the officer then in charge. “ Looks like the wreck of a schooner.”

The officer at once began scanning the horizon with his glasses, saying to himself, as the different parts of the wreck came into view :

“ All her masts gone ; broken off near the deck. Rails completely swept overboard; appears to have been burned to near the water’s edge.” Then calling to one of the crew, he said : “ Report to the captain the wreck of a schooner in sight on our weather bow.”

The officer then beckoned to the first mate who was standing near him conversing with two boys, and when that gentleman approached, accompanied by both boys, he said, handing him his glasses :

“ What do you make her, Harding? Looks as if she’d been in the water for a long time, don’t she ? ”

The first mate took the glasses and exclaimed after a careful look :

“ Yes, she’s water-logged. Doubtless a derelict floating with the currents, and ready to tear a hole ii in the bottom of any luckless vessel that may chance to be struck by her on a dark night.”

“What’s a derelict, Uncle Arthur?” inquired the youngest of the two boys. “ I remember once while at Eton, when I had been cutting my work, the head master hauled me over the coals and said I was very derelict in my studies. Why do you call that wrecked schooner a derelict? Has she been failing to do something she should have done? ”

“ Shut up, Harold ; at least for a while. Here comes the captain,” remarked the other boy good-naturedly, but in a low voice.

“All right, Jack,” was the reply; “I’ll keep mum while the captain is here. But you’ll tell me afterward, won’t you, uncle ? ” he said turning to the first mate.

“ Yes, Harold, I’ll tell you,” was the reply. “ Ask me at the first opportunity, and I’ll tell you many strange stories about derelicts.”

As Captain Parker approached, the officer in charge said :

“ Wreck of a schooner on our weather bow, sir. Harding thinks she looks like a derelict.”

The captain examined the distant object through a pair of powerful glasses he had brought with him from the cabin.

“ I think it’s a derelict. As my orders are to destroy all dangerous derelicts, we will change our course and sail toward it.” He then cried to the man at the wheel : “ Hard-a-port.”

“ Hard-a-port it is, sir,” replied the man.

The course thus altered, the ship rapidly approached the floating vessel.

The above incident occurred in the South Atlantic, in latitude 22 0 S., longitude 24 0 W., on a certain day in the middle of June toward the close of the nineteenth century, on the Ketrel of London, a full-rigged ship. The Ketrel had sailed from Liverpool, and was bound for Yokohama, Japan. She had taken the southern course around Africa instead of through the Indian Ocean by the straits of Gibraltar, the Mediterranean Sea, and the Suez Canal, as she was scheduled to stop at Cape Town. Even if not intending to stop at the southern part of Africa, she might probably have taken the southern route since, in sailing from Europe to India or Australia, a vessel can either pass from the North Atlantic through the Mediterranean and the Suez Canal, or may take the southern route around the Cape of Good Hope. Though the latter is the longer route, it possesses the advantages of meeting, in the Southern Hemisphere, both winds and ocean currents that will carry it toward the east. For the same reason, on the return to Europe from the East Indies or Australia, sailing vessels sometimes prefer to go by the western route, around Cape Horn, thus circumnavigating the globe.

The Ketrel was an East India merchantman, and carried a varied cargo of goods intended for distribution mainly in Japan. Her commander, Capt. William M. Parker, was a man of long experience on the water, on which he had passed most of his life. Since 13 he had followed the sea continuously from his eighteenth year, and was now past fifty-five, he had had some thirty-seven years of actual work at sea.

The first mate, Lieut. Arthur Harding, was a much younger man, having only reached his thirty-fifth year. Moreover, he had not taken to the sea until his twentyfifth year, the earlier years having been spent at college, and at the Oxford University. During his I student life, Harding had made a specialty of geo- j graphical physics and meteorology. A study of the physics of the ocean had caused him to spend several years at sea, and this, together with a careful study of ; navigation, had finally induced him to follow the sea as a profession.

Although there was a difference of some twenty j years in the ages of the captain and his first mate, yet the two men were close friends. The older man would sometimes good-naturedly chaff the other when, as was frequently the case, they differed on some nautical question, the older man saying that he had been at sea before the other was born and, therefore, ought to know more than he. The younger man, however, would retort good-naturedly:

■ “ Undoubtedly, captain, you ought to know more,

but in point of fact are you sure you do know more ? ” 1

This, however, was only when both men were off - duty. While on duty the captain insisted on receiving, and the first mate unhesitatingly accorded his superior officer, the obedience and respect his position called for.

The two boys, Harold Arthur Harding and John Parker Jackson, were English lads. Harold was much the younger of the two, being only about thirteen and a half years old, while John, or as his chum called him, Jack, was fully sixteen. Harold was the nephew of Lieutenant Harding, and was on his way to Yokohama, Japan, to join his father and mother, who were then living in the suburbs of that city, where his father, Mr. George Harding, was connected with the English embassy. Jack, who was an orphan, having recently lost both father and mother, was on his way to join Mr. and Mrs. Harding in Yokohama. Jack and Harold had become warmly attached to each other while attending the great preparatory school at Eton, and on the death of his father and mother, Jack had been offered a home in the Harding family.

Since Captain Parker, who temporarily was Jack’s guardian, spent the greater part of his life on the sea, and was unable to give the necessary care and attention to the boy, he gladly accepted the kind offer of Mr. and Mrs. Harding. The boys had, therefore, left Liverpool with Captain Parker in the Ketrel, as already stated. As for Jack, he was only too glad to continue his association with Harold, arrangements having been made for the boys to pursue their studies in Japan. Another reason why Captain Parker had not hesitated to accept the invitation of Mr. and Mrs. Harding, was that the Hardings were distantly connected with the Jacksons by marriage.

Brought up as they had been in a great English 15 preparatory school, both lads had thoroughly developed in them the manly courage and persistency each had inherited from his parents. They had been taught to box, swim, run, wrestle, fence, and shoot. In cricket they would hold their own with almost any boys of their age. Harding, who was an expert with the rifle, pistol, and broadsword had, during his brief visits to his brother’s house, given Harold instructions in the use of these weapons until, considering his age, he became quite an expert.

The Ketrel was rapidly approaching the derelict schooner, so that the distance between the two vessels was now so short that even without the use of glasses they could see every now and then the waves washing its decks near the bow. The splintered stumps of the masts projected only a few feet above the tops of the decks. The schooner had listed, probably by reason of the shifting of her cargo, so that the stern projected a few feet above the surface of the water. The bow on the contrary was covered by about a foot and a half of water. Caught in the ocean current the vessel was being rapidly carried through the water, its velocity being slightly increased by the wind blowing against the projecting stern. Now that they were near the vessel they could see that it had either been set on fire by the storm that destroyed it, or that an attempt had been made by some passing vessel to sink it by starting a fire.

“ A dangerous derelict,” remarked Captain Parker. “ We must blow her up before she rips the bottom of some unfortunate vessel she may strike either in a 16 heavy fog or in the darkness of night.” Then turning to the lieutenant, he said : “ Harding, take a crew in the long boat; board the derelict; place a few torpedoes in her hold, and blow her out of the water.”

As soon as he had received this command, Harding said to one of the crew :

“ Send the boatswain to me.”

“ Aye, aye, sir,” was the reply.

When the boatswain, named Hiram Higgenbotham, approached, he said :

“ Pick out a crew of six men ; man the long boat ; take the gunner with you. Tell him to place two torpedoes on the boat, and then report to me. We will board the derelict and blow her out of the water.”

As soon as the two boys heard these orders, Harold exclaimed :

“ O Uncle Arthur, may Jack and I go with you? It would be such great sport to board the schooner.”

“ If the captain is willing,” replied Harding, “ I have no objections to your going.”

“ I see no reason why the boys should not go. If they keep still and obey orders they will not be in the way.”

“ Thank you, captain,” exclaimed both boys. “ We will do exactly as we are told.” »

It was fortunate for the boys that both Captain Parker and Lieutenant Harding thoroughly believed in treating the boys, not as little children, but in such a manner as best to develop their manliness. Neither believed in coddling boys, or forbidding them from B 17 doing reasonable things lest an accident might occur. Under this treatment the proper kind of a boy soon learns that most valuable lesson of how to take care of himself. For this reason both boys while on the Ketrel were permitted to do things that to perhaps the majority of people would have appeared to be highly dangerous.

The long boat manned by a crew of six men, not counting the gunner, Lieutenant Harding, and the two boys, was soon spinning through the water under the strong and well-timed pull of the oars.

As they approached the stern of the schooner the name of the wrecked vessel could be partially seen in raised letters that once had been firmly attached to the woodwork. Some of these letters, however, had been torn off by the force of the waves, although enough of them remained to show that the name of the vessel was The Sallie B. of B n.

“ Apparently an American vessel. What do you think, Higgenbotham? ” remarked Harding.

“ ’Pears like a Yankee-built wessel, sir,” was the reply.

A period could be distinctly seen after the first letter “ B,” and since the space between the second letter “ B ” and the final “ n ” was five letters, the name of the vessel was evidently The Sallie B. something of some city or town beginning with a “ B,” and ending with an “ n.”

“ That ’ere name might be Boston, sir,” said Higgenbotham to the lieutenant.

Harold, who had been looking at the lettering on the stern through a pair of field-glasses, handed them to his uncle and said :

“ Look, Uncle Arthur, you can see the first letter of the last word was a ‘ B ’ ; for where it was attached to the stern the wood is of a different color from the rest of the wood.”

“ That’s true, Harold,” was the reply, “ and, as there’s about room for four additional letters between the 4 B ’ and the ‘ n ’ the schooner has most probably come originally from Boston.”

Making their boat fast to the side of the schooner, and leaving two of the crew in it, the rest boarded her. The portion of the charred deck near the stern was high and dry above the water, but the bow was covered with shallow water, and every now and then the waves broke over nearly half of the deck.

There were many evidences that the vessel had been adrift for a long time; for the planks were covered with seaweed and the sides with barnacles,

“ There is a sargasso sea to the east of us,” remarked Harding. “ She has probably been caught in it and has perhaps remained there for several years, until at last, under a strong wind, she has drifted into an ocean current and again started on her dangerous voyage.”

“Why has not the schooner sunk long ago, sir?” inquired Jack of the lieutenant.

“ I cannot say for certain, Jack,” was the reply, “ but most probably because she is loaded with lumber. 19

If this is so, she may remain drifting about on the ocean for several additional years. However,” he added, turning to the gunner, “ she is a dangerous derelict. We must try to blow her out of the water. I guess we can do this, can we not? ” he inquired of the gunner.

The gunner, pleased with the idea of blowing some-- thing up, replied :

“ There won’t be much trouble about that, sir. But let me first see what remains out of water below deck.”

Although nearly all the interior was filled with water, yet they finally succeeded in placing two torpedoes in parts of the hold far enough below the top of the vessel to blow her out of the water when exploded.

It required rather more than an hour to put the two torpedoes in place. As soon as this was done a fuse, long enough to burn for several minutes, was suitably attached to them, and led over the stern of the vessel. They then boarded the long boat, and setting fire to the fuse rowed rapidly away.

When at a distance of about five hundred feet from the derelict a dull explosion was heard, a sheet of flame was seen issuing from the doomed vessel, and a column of water was thrown high into the air. The force of the explosion blew the vessel into fragments, so that the ocean was soon covered for some distance around with pieces of wreckage. These, however, being for the greater part water-logged, soon sunk again. That the principal cargo of the schooner was lumber could 20 be seen from the logs and sawn boards that remained for some time floating on the surface of the ocean.

“ That’s the end of a dangerous derelict,” remarked the lieutenant as they rowed toward the ship.

That night Captain Parker entered the following in his log-book :

“June 15, 18 — , latitude 22 0 S., longitude 30° W., a derelict schooner sighted on the weather bow about noon. Sent a crew with Lieutenant Harding, who blew her up with two torpedoes. Schooner was

marked on her bow, ‘ The Sallie B. of B n.’

Difference in the color of the wood showed that the first missing letter of the last word was 4 B,’ the vessel was, therefore, probably of Boston.”

CHAPTER II Concerning Derelicts

The derelict schooner had been sighted about noon, and several hours passed before the long boat returned to the ship. All on the boat, especially the boys, were therefore ready for the noonday meal. After the meal, this not being the lieutenant’s watch, that gentleman, accompanied by the two boys, sought the shade of an awning on the deck. Naturally the conversation turned on the events of the past few hours.

“ Uncle Arthur,” exclaimed Harold, “ I won’t ask you now what a derelict is, since we have seen one, and I know pretty much all about it as far as the name is concerned.”

“ So you know all about it, do you? ” said Jack in a chaffing tone. “ Suppose you begin by telling us just what a derelict is.”

“ I can do that,” replied Harold. “ A derelict is a wreck without anybody on it, that floats about on the waters wherever the winds and waves may happen to take it. How is that for a definition, Uncle Arthur ? ” appealing to the lieutenant as the court of last resort.

“ A fairly good definition, Harold,” was the reply. “ The word derelict is generally applied to any ship or other vessel that has been voluntarily abandoned at sea, with no intention of returning to it or claiming it 22 again. The name derelict is also sometimes applied to any property that is voluntarily given up or abandoned by its owner. It is, however, most frequently applied to a vessel at sea. ,,

“ Then,” replied Harold, “ I don’t see how the head master at Eton was right in saying that I was derelict.”

“ Oh, I don’t know,” replied Jack laughing, “ you were certainly in such a condition as regards your school work that you could properly be said to be lost or adrift, and never expected to find or return to yourself again.”

“ Jack is putting it into you rather hard, Harold,” said the lieutenant smiling. “ I think, however, he has made a very excellent statement. He pictures you, Harold, as a ship sailing over the ocean. You are the master or commander, and are supposed to be sailing your vessel in search of knowledge or information. You had, so to speak, voluntarily abandoned or ceased to direct your vessel and had thus for the time become a derelict. In this way the head master very properly spoke of you as being a derelict, or of being derelict to your duty.”

“ Thank you, uncle,” replied Harold, “ I understand the word now very well.”

“ Lieutenant,” said Jack, “ won’t you tell us something about derelicts? Are there very many on the ocean ? ”

“ Yes, Jack, there are many thousands on the different oceans. Of course, every now and then they sink in the deep water and thus disappear. And then again 23 they are frequently blown up, just as we have done with the schooner to-day. But since, during every severe storm many other derelicts are started off on their wanderings, their number is constantly being added to.”

“ In what parts of the ocean is one most likely to meet them, Uncle Arthur ? ” inquired Harold.

“ Derelicts are common in the Pacific, Atlantic, and the Indian Oceans. They are also seen frequently in the Arctic and the Antarctic Oceans. They are commonest however in the North Atlantic, especially off the eastern coasts of the United States. In a publication by the United States Hydrographic Office on the ‘ Wrecks and Derelicts of the North Atlantic Ocean,’ it appears that from 1887 to 1893 a total number of one thousand one hundred and forty-six unidentified derelicts have been observed. When we add to these four hundred and eighty-two identified derelicts there is a total of one thousand six hundred and twentyeight observed in seven years.”

“ Gracious,” exclaimed Harold in an astonished tone, “ what an awful number of wrecks must have occurred on the ocean ! ”

“ Yes,” replied his uncle; “ for the derelicts only include the vessels that don’t sink. Most wrecked vessels sink almost immediately, and only a few remain floating.”

“ Lieutenant,” inquired Jack, “ which generally cause the greatest damage to vessels, icebergs or derelicts ? ”

“ What would you say to that, Harold ? ” inquired the lieutenant, who was a natural born teacher, and who being with the boys a large part of his spare time was endeavoring to give them as much information about the sea and its many strange phenomena as he could. “ Do you think icebergs would be more dangerous to vessels than derelicts.”

“ Why, of course, uncle,” replied Harold, “ icebergs would be much more dangerous. Think how much bigger an iceberg is — bigger generally than even the largest ships. Mr. Higgenbotham, the boatswain, told me the other day that he had seen icebergs several hundred feet high and several thousands of feet in length. Think what a blow such a big piece of ice could give to a vessel if it should happen to strike against it.”

“ What do you think, Jack? ” returned the lieutenant, turning to the boy.

“ Well,” said Jack, “ I guess Harold is right; is he not, sir? ”

“ No,” was the reply, “ you are both wrong. An iceberg, as a rule, is far less dangerous to vessels than derelicts. Icebergs, however, have been known to sink many vessels.”

“ Won’t you please tell us why derelicts are so dangerous? ” inquired Jack.

“Yes, uncle,” said Harold laughing, “you surely ought to tell us now after letting us guess wrong.”

“ Well, there are various reasons why derelicts are more to be dreaded at sea than icebergs. In the first 25 place an iceberg projects so far above the surface of the ocean that it can be easily seen by the lookout unless the air is very foggy or the night very dark. Even when it cannot be distinctly seen, an iceberg can often make itself felt by reason of the cool air that accompanies it. During foggy weather, at day-time, when the berg cannot be seen directly, its presence may often easily be recognized by the glow of light thrown off from its surface.

“ In the next place, when a vessel is struck by an iceberg, since the ice projects so high above the surface of the water, the blow is generally received above the level of its first bulkhead. The damage is, therefore, generally of such a character as not immediately to sink the vessel.

“ Now a derelict is a very different thing. In the first place, it lies low in the water, so low indeed that it is difficult for the lookout, even if keen-sighted and alert, to detect it. Indeed, in many cases, it is practically impossible to detect its presence even during good weather, since it is so low in the water. Often, the only indication of its presence is a sudden blow given to the vessel. This blow, coming as it does against the ship’s bottom, is apt to rip her open so that often in a few moments the unfortunate vessel sinks to the bottom with all on board.”

“ Uncle Arthur,” inquired Harold, “ are not derelicts the cause of the disappearance of so many vessels that sail out from port and are never again heard of?”

“ Yes, Harold, they undoubtedly are. For this reason, nearly all the principal governments of the world give instructions to their vessels when meeting derelicts, that cannot be towed into port, to blow them up, as we have done, or to sink them in some other way.”

“ How do they generally destroy derelicts, uncle? ” inquired Harold.

“ Various methods are employed, Harold. Sometimes, with heavy vessels like cruisers, ramming is employed ; that is, the cruiser throws itself against the sides of the derelict for the purpose of sinking it by cutting a hole in the side. This method, however, is not always found to be safe. I remember reading of a derelict that the United States cruiser, Atlanta, endeavored to destroy in this way. Getting up her full speed she hurled herself against the side of the derelict. This derelict, as in the case of the one we sunk to-day, was loaded with timber, and was therefore difficult to sink. The first blow cut off her stern. At the second blow, another small section was sheared off. The third blow caught the derelict amidships, but the rammed vessel stuck on the ram and rode with it for a short distance. The fourth blow nearly cut the derelict in two, and the fifth blow sank her. The work, however, had been very severe, and the cruiser's prow was so strained that on reaching port it was necessary to dock her for repairs.”

“ Lieutenant,” inquired Jack, “ would it not be easier to destroy a derelict by striking her with projectiles from large guns? ”

“ Yes, Jack,” was the reply, “ and, as a rule, our cruisers are only too glad to meet a derelict, since it affords them excellent gun practice. You see it is not an easy thing to find a satisfactory target for large guns at sea, so that a derelict is hailed by them as a piece of good fortune.”

“ I imagine a derelict cannot stand many balls from a large gun,” said Harold.

“ On the contrary, Harold,” replied his uncle, “ a water-logged derelict is by no means easy to sink. The projectiles instead of splitting the wood and thus breaking up the vessel, simply pass through its more or less rotten timbers and, since nearly all the vessel is already filled with water, a few additional holes in her side make but little difference.”

“ Then,” said Harold, “ a torpedo is best for sinking derelicts; am I right, uncle?”

“ Yes,” was the reply; “ a torpedo is by far the most satisfactory method.”

“ Uncle, I remember you said you could tell us many interesting stories about derelicts.”

“ That is true, my boy. Derelicts are so common in the ocean that you will find almost every sailor who has passed many years on the water has had some experience with them.”

“ Won’t you tell us some of these stories? ” inquired Harold anxiously.

“ Yes, please do,” added Jack.

“ Well, I will tell you a few stories, and then you can go to some of the sailors in the forecastle 28 who will doubtless be glad to spin you yarns about derelicts.”

“ All right, uncle, we’ll begin with your stories,” said Harold.

“ Well, to begin with, the distance traveled by derelicts is often very great. The Fanny E. Woolston, an American schooner, was first observed as a derelict on October 15, 1891, in the Atlantic Ocean, off Cape Hatteras. She then drifted for over three years, during which time she probably traveled more than ten thousand miles. This derelict started with the Gulf Stream toward Europe, but being afterward blown into the Sargasso Sea by a gale remained there for a long time, and afterward escaped and again started on its travels. She was seen on nearly fifty different occasions, and when last observed was apparently in as good condition as when abandoned.

“ Another schooner, the Alma Cummings, drifted for five hundred and eighty-seven days over the Atlantic for a distance that has been estimated at about five thousand miles. She left Port Royal for Boston in January, 1895, loaded with lumber, and was wrecked by a blizzard in February. Her masts were snapped off close to the decks, when the spars, held by the rigging, punched holes in the side of the vessel, and the seams opening, the water poured into the hold in jets. Her lumber, however, kept her afloat, although she was continually swept by seas.