Wreck and Rescue

DECEMBER, 1929

BY CAPTAIN GARLAND ROTCH

DEAR MOTHER: —
Well, Mother, the Black Sheep came very near to going for good this time, but, as is usually the case, the bad penny turns up but the good honest dollar is lost.
I suppose you know by this time that the Clark foundered in a hurricane off the coast of Cuba. To the best of my knowledge there were but six of us saved. Until we arrive at New Orleans we shall not know for sure. I don’t see how there was any chance for the rest, but after you have heard my tale you will see that you never can tell.
We jumped as the ship sank, caught a raft, and were adrift on it for seven days, without anything to eat or drink, before we were picked up by the Tana two days ago in pretty bum shape. I feel pretty well now, though still very weak. My feet are badly burned from exposure to the action of the sun and salt water. I cannot walk very well or wear shoes, but they are doing nicely. I will try and give you a more detailed account of what happened.
On the morning of Wednesday the sixteenth, I came on deck at four and found that the wind was blowing fresh from the northeast, though not hard enough to warrant calling the Captain. By seven it had reached the strength of a strong wind and I called the Old Man. He had a great dread of a hurricane and always was imagining that there was one brewing, and as soon as he came on deck he was sure that we were going to encounter one of those dreaded storms. Don’t construe this to mean that the Skipper was at all afraid, as he sure had more nerve than most men, and did not know the meaning of fear for himself, though he was always afraid of losing his ship through one of these storms. I told him when he came on deck that I did not think we were going to encounter a hurricane, as there were none of the signs which usually precede these storms. Nevertheless he fished out all the charts and books that had any bearing on hurricanes and started to study the weather carefully.
The Skipper always took me into his confidence a great deal, and this day he asked me to stay on deck after I had had my breakfast and help him decide what it was we were running into. At eight o’clock it was blowing a moderate gale and the sky had a hardy, windy look. The barometer had fallen a bit, but not more than would be expected for the weather we were in then. There are certain signs which usually give warning of the approach of a hurricane, but this morning there were none of these. The weather indications were the same as those of an ordinary heavy gale of wind. By ten-thirty the wind had not shifted and the glass had started to fall very rapidly, and after arguing the pro and con we decided that it was a hurricane that we were running into, and that we were in the track of the centre, the worst place to be. Our only hope lay in letting her go off and run before the wind, and endeavoring to cross the storm’s path. This we did. By noon it was blowing very hard and a heavy sea was starting to run. We had five hundred barrels of fuel oil stowed on deck and the seas had started this several times, but each time we had relashed it, only losing a few barrels. We had a good dinner under difficulties and everyone felt confident.
At one, I went to the chart room and the Skipper asked me if I could get some oil on the water, as the seas were starting to roll dangerously across the decks. I called Johnson, the second mate, and taking axes we crawled down on the deck load and stove in the heads of two barrels on each side of the deck load. This allowed the oil to run over the side to the water, where we noticed it spread out and gave good results. The results to Johnson and myself were far from good, since, as soon as the head of the barrel was stove in and the oil exposed, the wind caught it up and blew it all over us, until we were just covered with oil from head to foot. We did not get it off until we were taken on board the Tana.
After that, we kept barrels stove in and oil running into the water until the seas were breaking over the ship so that we could not get down to the decks to break in any more barrels. We then started pumping it overboard from our own fuel tanks. We had splendid results from this oil, and I am firmly convinced that this was the only thing that kept the Clark afloat as long as she was.
By three, the hurricane was at its height. Mother, I wish that I could describe it to you, but I can’t. I don’t believe that any man could describe it so as half to do justice to the scene. The wind was terrific; that God could turn loose such a burst of fury was unbelievable. You could not face it and breathe. The wind would force the breath back into your body. To move without holding on to something was impossible. In going along the decks it was necessary to hold on to something all the time. The wind would pull and haul at you like a thousand demons trying to pull you away from your hold and drag you overboard. You could not see a hundred feet for the spray, which would whip from the crests of the waves and hurl through the air with the speed of rifle bullets. The force of the flying spray was such that it appeared to be lying in layers or a sort of strata in the air. The seas were like mountains, and it seemed as they towered above the little Clark that they were huge overhanging cliffs of water that would cave down and overwhelm the little ship. They were of such size that the ship would be on one side of a sea at a time — that is, you could look ahead and see the trough ahead of the ship and then look back and see the crest of the same sea far astern. The little boat rode them wonderfully; the oil on the water kept them from breaking dangerously, and the Clark would seem to slide out from under the towering masses of water just in time. It was wonderful to watch her. Many times I held my breath thinking that surely one of the seas must break entirely over her. She was taking very heavy water during this time. The deck load was a jumbled mass of flying barrels and it was impossible to get down to try to do anything in the way of securing it. The water would make a clean sweep over the decks, hiding the entire forward end of the ship from view, then the bow would clear itself and the stern would submerge.
The ship was rolling terribly, and everything that was not secure in the rooms was on the floor and banging from side to side with each roll of the ship. The galley and mess rooms were a wreck. About three Johnson and I were going aft over the top of the house, and when passing the galley skylight we thought a cup of coffee would warm us up a little. As, with all the water on the decks, it was impossible to go through the doors on the main deck, we decided to go down through the skylight. A ventilator had fallen on the skylight and we had quite a time removing it. While we were working removing the ventilator we thought we heard someone calling. After we had the skylight opened what do you think we saw? The colored steward and the three colored cooks all on top of the galley stove and praying just as hard as they could. The galley was half full of water and everything in it was adrift except the stove. Such a mess — pots and pans, tables, bits of wood and other debris. And amid all this, the darkies on the stove with their life preservers on. I could n’t help it, and neither could Johnson — we just roared. It was so funny.
The condition of the galley doomed our hopes for hot coffee, so we hauled the blacks out of the galley and put them in the wheelhouse, still with the life preservers on, as they refused to part with them.
At four, we were in the centre of the hurricane, the most dreaded part, and rightly so. There was no wind and a blue sky overhead. The sea was terrible. A confused, mountainous mass of jumbled water. There was no direction to the waves; they seemed to come from everywhere. Sometimes they would come together with an awful roar and a mountainous mass would drop bang. The poor little Clark was under water all the time. She had no chance. There was no way for her to ride seas coming from all four or five different directions at once. She did very well and struggled manfully to keep above water.
Just as we started to enter the other side of the storm, to fight our way out of what we had just come through, the steering engine blew a flange and we had to steer by hand. It was a hard job, as the hand gear was on top of the after house and exposed to the weather. There was no compass aft at the hand gear, and we steered the ship by the sheets of spray that the wind whipped from the crests of the waves. We just kept these sheets at a certain angle with the ship. She did fine, and in about a half-hour we had the engine fixed and were steering by steam again.
The trip out through the storm was terrible. It seemed as if every storm in creation was blowing against us, and instead of the regular sea which we had before, we had this awful confused sea. It made even the stoutest hearts sink a little as we thought that we had to go all through what we had already been through, though worse, and by this time the Clark was in a pretty badly crippled condition from the effects of the hard struggle she had had to get this far in the storm.
Things did not look very bright when we gathered in the wheelhouse for a supper of canned salmon and crackers. No one spoke about the outlook; the only conversation was a few jokes about what had happened during the day. At six o’clock the water was coming into the engine room in streams and had started to gain, as one of the pumps had got plugged and the other one and the siphon were unable to keep the water down. At about eight the engineers got another pump going and managed to hold their own till about nine, when a sea stove in the door to the sailors’ mess room and a ventilator which passed through this room to the engine room. About this time she smashed the shutters on the Chief Engineer’s room, which allowed his room to fill up and run over into the engine room. At this rate it would not take long for the engine room to flood.
I took two men forward with me to try and get a spare door aft for the sailors’ mess room. To bring it back, we had to bring it along the booms, as the decks were continually being swept with heavy seas. We had got about halfway aft when a heavy gust of wind blew it from our hands, knocking one of the men down on the decks, where he was washed overboard before he could get to his feet. The other man and I took the Captain’s bedding and went into the mess room to try and plug the hole in the ventilator with the bedding, but it was impossible. The mess room was full of benches and barrels. Every time a sea would come over, it would fill this little room full of water. There we would be — barrels, men, bedding, benches, and the place full of water. We were washed out twice. The third time I was washed right around the stern of the ship, and climbed up from the decks on the other side of the ship. The sailor I never saw again. I don’t know what happened to him. It was impossible to fix the windows in the Chief Engineer’s room. I tried, but could not stand on the decks, as the seas were coming over one right after another. We had no material to use to board up or plug them.
At ten-thirty the water was up to the dynamos and the lights all went out. Just previous to this, I had been down in the engine room, and I wish that I could describe the sight to you as I saw it. There was about six feet of water in the engine room. It was washing from one side to the other, with the roll of the ship. The engineers, stripped to the waist, were working around one of the pumps. I remember just as I came down the first assistant engineer was diving down under water to get at some part of the pump. The heavy rods and cranks of the engine were running in the water, churning and splashing the water all over; bits of board and refuse would float in to the engine and be smashed to pieces and thrown all over. The noise was deafening. When the propeller would lift out of the water, the engine would go at an awful speed and by the noise would appear to be going to pieces. It was a sight I shall never forget.
When the water had reached the dynamos the pumps were also covered, and there was nothing more that the engineers could do in the engine room. They came out on deck, but left the engines running. They were a brave lot and stuck by their posts as long as they could. At a quarter to eleven a fusible plug blew out on the port boiler and the steam was shut off the engine. She was settling fast by the stern and everyone knew it was all over. A heavy sea swept over the whole after house, taking both boats.
The little Skipper was game to the core. He and I went into the chart room. I lighted my pipe and he a cigarette, and then he turned to me and said, ‘This is hell, Rotch, is n’t it? Just as we start to get out of the gale, the ship goes down.’ I was n’t going to let him have anything on me, so I took a couple of puffs of my pipe and said, ‘Yeah,’ just as unconcerned as I could. It was funny I did n’t feel the least bit worried or afraid. I told the Skipper that I thought the best thing to do would be to go forward, and if the bulkheads would hold she might float with her bow out of water. This was the only chance we should have, as the boats were gone. He could not think of anything better, so he ordered all hands forward. Going forward we had to climb along the booms, as the decks were impossible, with the remains of the deck load and the heavy seas washing over. It was hard work going along the booms. The man ahead of me was washed overboard. What was left of us got forward all right. The sailors put on their life preservers. The officers had none, as theirs were in their rooms aft, which were under water, the sailors and firemen being berthed forward.
The Old Man was pretty badly broken up and stood off to one side looking aft all the time. I mustered what was left of us and gave them a talking to. I told them if the ship started to go to watch and jump before she went too far and they were caught in the rigging. Those who had no life preservers on would have to trust to catching some bit of floating wreckage. Those that had life belts on, if they saw anything floating on the water, were not to catch it, as it might be the means of someone else being able to find something to support him.
The Skipper called to me then and said that he thought he heard someone calling from aft. I could plainly hear it then. The Old Man and I went as far aft as we could, and found that the second engineer and the cook had not got forward. I don’t know how we missed them, as we went all over the after house before we left to make sure that everyone had gone forward. We could not get to them, as she had settled too far for us to get back as we had come. A minute after we went aft a big sea swept the after end and we heard them no more. It must have washed them overboard.
We stayed aft, as far as we dared, watching the after hatch to see how it was holding. The Old Man kept asking, ‘Is she holding, Rotch?’ It appeared to be holding all right, and all there was to worry about was the number three bulkhead.
All of a sudden, we felt her start to go down under our feet. We turned and ran forward. We had gone as far as the foremast when a big sea swept over us. I clung to the winches around the foremast while the Skipper ran on a little further and jumped up on number one hatch and held on to the booms. After the sea had passed, we started forward again with the Old Man a little ahead of me. He ran around to the port side of the ship to go up the port ladder to the forecastle head, as the starboard ladder had been washed away earlier in the day. By the time I reached the break of the forecastle head the water was so close to me that I did not have time to run around to the port side, so jumped up and caught the rail and pulled myself up on to the forecastle head. All of the crew were on the port side except Johnson, the second mate. He and I were the only ones on the starboard side.
By this time the ship was fast getting to a position nearly vertical. I looked over to the other side and could see them starting to jump over the side. I shouted to Johnson that I guessed it was time for us to go as wall, so we kicked off our boots and jumped.
On deck we had had a raft that we used for painting the side of the ship. As soon as I struck the water, I started to swim for the surface. As soon as I reached the surface the first thing that I saw was something dark on the water, and reaching out I put my hand on this raft. Johnson came up close beside me and we both climbed on to the raft. I did not have to swim.
After I had climbed on to the raft, I turned to have a last look at the Clark. She was standing on end, perfectly upright in the water. Her bow was about thirty feet out of the water. She seemed to hang that way for a minute or two, then, with a sort of sigh, made by the noise of the air rushing out of her, she very slowly sank out of sight. Mother, it was a weird sight to see that little boat sink, and it hurt. She was a good little boat and I had had some good times on her. We had a fine crowd of men, as they showed when it sank. There was no excitement. Those that went went as a sailor should go.
After the little boat had gone, I turned around to see who else was on the raft with us, as when I climbed on I noticed that there were two others already on. They proved to be the third assistant engineer and an oiler. The oiler had on a life preserver, and it made me so darn mad that I just kicked him off the raft. I thought of all those who had no life belts, and here was one of the men I had told not to use anything that was floating around, but to leave it for someone without a life belt. I shook my fist at him and told him not to come anywhere near the raft. He floated around for a while, and once when my back was turned Johnson let him on, and when I discovered it, there was no chance for anyone else to be around, so I let him stay.
We had not been on the raft long when we heard someone shouting and could see someone in the water. Johnson and I swam out and picked up the colored steward. He was just about all in. Soon we heard another call and we swam out again, and picked up a sailor. He, too, was just about all in and was very hard to help back to the raft. He had on oilskins and sea boots and they were full of water. We kept a sharp lookout for anyone else, but we could see or hear no one. Once we saw something black on the water and we swam out and found it was only a barrel. The wind and sea were drifting us fast from the scene of the wreck.
After Johnson had let the oiler back on, that left six of us on the raft. Johnson (the second officer), the third assistant engineer, the steward, the oiler, a sailor, and myself. Now, Mother, to appreciate our position you must picture our raft, which was nine feet long by four feet wide. Not as wide as your bed and only three feet longer, with six men on it. Nothing to eat, nothing to drink; in fact there was nothing on the raft but ourselves and what we stood in, which was not very much. None of us had on shoes except the sailor, who had boots. The most of us were clad in only shirts and trousers. There was just room for four to lie down at a time, and they had to fit right in. The others had to sit way on the end. There was no turning in your sleep unless everyone turned at the same time. The raft was only four inches out of the water, so the water was washing over it all the time. We were never dry at any time that we were on the raft. If anyone did any restless tossing in his sleep at night, overboard he would go. The steward did go overboard one night.
About an hour after the ship sank, Johnson and I put our backs together and, propped up this way, went off to sleep. The first thing I knew the raft was straight up on edge and then over, and we were all in the water. We had not gotten used to our raft and a sea turned it over. We soon got the knack of keeping her from tipping over. Every time a big sea would come we would all lean toward it and balance the raft. I can hear that cry now, ‘Look out, here she comes!’ and everyone would start up and lean over toward the sea just as it broke. We had to hang on tight as well, to keep from being washed off the raft. There was no more sleep for anyone that night. A short cat nap and the cry of ‘Hang on!’ would wake you up.
Thursday morning broke, and we were all glad to see the sun and feel its warmth. It was still blowing pretty hard and quite a high sea was running. About all we did that day was to hang on and to keep the raft from turning over. We saw a good many sharks swimming by the raft. They did not stop at all, and it was easy to guess where they were going and the awful end that the poor fellows who were floating around in life belts had met. It was not a very pleasant thought and I banished it from my mind. Everyone must have had the same thought and no one mentioned it at all, though everyone was very quiet.
Nothing happened of note that day, and during the night in our exhausted state we all caught cat naps even though the water was washing over us all the time and the side of the body which was down was wet all the time.
Friday morning at daybreak we all started to keep a good lookout for ships, as the question of getting picked up was starting to come home. We saw nothing that morning. Sitting around doing nothing, I commenced to brood over our outlook, and, catching myself, I thought that would soon raise Cain with our spirits, so decided to put everyone on watch, and try to give everyone something to do. There was a little breeze and it would blow us on the Mexican coast, if we could last that long. I figured that it was about two hundred and fifty miles away. We took the cover off the life belt that the oiler had on and decided to use it for a sail. We tore some strips from the raft and made a small mast and yard to spread the sail on. The blocks of cork that were in the life belt we used for paddles to steer by. This kept two of the men busy all the time steering and was something on their minds. The trousers of the suit of oilskins that the sailor had on we used to make caps to protect our heads from the strong sun. To make these we just cut off sections from the legs.
This kept us busy all day and it was wonderful how fast the time passed, and everyone was in good spirits. It was a woefully small sail and did not move the raft very fast, but it was more for the moral effect that it had that I had it done. We were now divided into three watches of two men each, so that two men were always doing something and the others were resting. The two men were paddling and steering. We kept time by the sun in the day and the position of the stars at night.
After we had torn the piece off the side of the raft for our mast and sail, we found that it reduced the area so much that we decided to turn the raft over and use the other side. We spent quite a while making preparations, as we were very particular in saving every bit of wood and rope for some future use. This was very safely accomplished except that one of the men was afraid to let go of the raft as it turned over and went right around under water with it.
Friday night the men on watch called me and told me that they could see a light flashing in the sky and that they thought it was a lighthouse. I jumped up, and off to the northward there was a flash of light as from a lighthouse. We all took to our cork paddles and started to paddle toward it. Suddenly it went out and we did not see it for quite a while, and then we could see that it was the searchlight of a vessel. It only showed for a short while and then went out. It was a great disappointment, but still it was cheering to know that there was someone around anyway. I did not see how it could have been a lighthouse, as I figured that we were about a hundred and twelve miles from Cape San Antonio just before the Clark sank. But still in a heavy gale of wind one is apt to be out in his reckoning.
Saturday at daybreak we saw a large steamer heading to pass close to us. We all got excited and happy with large visions of food and drink. We started to paddle toward where she would pass us. We figured that it was about six in the morning and that they would have fresh coffee made, and we made joking remarks about it. She passed about half a mile from us and kept going right on. They had not seen us. She passed so close to us that we could see the man at the wheel. We whistled and would all get together and holler at once. I don’t see how they missed us, as we had a man waving a shirt all the time. She was an old tramp, and the officer was down having his coffee, I suppose. Her name was painted out, or we could have read it. It was a keen disappointment, as the pangs of hunger and thirst were beginning to make themselves felt. Our bodies were lame from sleeping on the bare boards, and sore from the saltwater sores which were commencing to come out all over our bodies, and especially on our feet.
You see, I had read somewhere that the pores of the skin would absorb water into the system and that people without water should keep their body wet and that the skin would absorb a lot. We kept our bodies wet with salt water all the time we were on the raft, and I think that this is the only thing that saved our lives. Whenever a man saw another’s clothes starting to get dry he would sprinkle water over him until he was wet. The action of the salt water and sun, though, sure raised Cain with our skin, as we were all covered with small dirty yellow sores which had started to fester. Our lips had begun to crack, and the salt had gotten into the cracks and our mouths were nothing but yellow rings.
Saturday we had a small rain squall. It did not last very long, but we all opened our mouths and tried to catch what we could. We spread out the oilskin coat and caught just enough for a mouthful apiece. It was dirty and oily, but it did taste good. That was all the nourishment that we had all the time we were on the raft.
Sunday morning we saw the smoke of a steamer, but it did not come anywhere near to us. Later we saw something black on the water quite a way from the raft, so we paddled over to it, and found that it was one of the barrels that had been our deck load. It was the only bit of wreckage that we saw. There was no way that we could burst it open so that we could get the staves, so we looked it over and then proceeded on our way.
While we knew that the coast of Cuba was closer to us than the Mexican coast, I knew that we could never make headway against the Gulf Stream and that if we were to make any place it would be the coast of Mexico. That was a very slim chance, but I did not say anything and everybody was working with the idea of making Mexico, and so we let it go at that.
The waters around the raft were alive with fish, and we used to use all our spare time trying to catch them with our hands.
The nights were the worst part of all. When we lay down to sleep the water would be washing over us all the time. Those that had the weather side had the water splashing in their faces all the time. Imagine trying to sleep with water splashing in your face. Though the night air was warm and so was the water, the drying effect made it very cold to the body. One could only sleep a short time and then would wake up cold and cramped. You could not turn over until everyone else turned over, as there was not room to lie back to back if one was at all curved. The two men nearest to the end of the raft used spare blocks of cork for pillows, and the other two used the first pair’s hips for pillows.
Monday we started in to fish in earnest. By luck we caught two. One of them jumped right on to the raft and we caught it before it could flop back into the water. These we skinned and hung up on our raft in the sun. In the afternoon we had quite an exciting time. Some large fish started to chase the dolphin which were swimming around the raft. I don’t know the name of the fish; we call them bottlenoses from the shape of their snouts. They are about fifteen to twenty feet long. They had no respect whatever for our raft, and gave it several hard bumps while they were chasing the dolphin, and for a while I was afraid that they would break up the raft. They played around for about a halfhour and then went off. While they were not harmful, we were not sorry to see them go, as they had us guessing for a while.
During the afternoon it was very warm and we suffered a great deal from the heat and thirst. Hunger by this time had ceased to bother us at all. Only the first two days did being hungry bother us. Of course we would not have turned down a turkey dinner. They say, though, that hunger ceases as soon as thirst sets in. I guess it does. We kept our clothing good and wet and that helped some. The men wanted to eat the fish, but I would not let them, as eating would increase the desire for water. We were watching for rain closely, and if we had had a good rain squall and could have caught some rain we would have eaten them. Several rain squalls passed us, but none came near the raft.
Monday night the steward and the oiler were on watch for the middle of the night. I guess the steward felt pretty sleepy, for he dozed off to sleep and toppled over backward into the water. The sound of his splashing woke me up. Seeing the oiler reach out to help him back, I called to him to look out for the fish that were hanging on a stick close to where he was. The poor steward thought that I meant for him to look out for a fish and thought fish could only mean shark. The way he came out of the water was not slow. He came out just as a seal does.
Tuesday morning I was sitting in the bow of the raft looking aft and thinking. Everyone else was asleep except the steward and the oiler; they were paddling at the stern. My eyes happened to look astern and I saw a great big shark following us. He was swimming up to the raft. He looked to me to be about fifty feet long, but afterwards when I compared his length to the raft he must have been between fifteen and twenty feet long. I did not say anything to the men, as I hoped he would go away and not be seen by them, as a shark at that time was not the best thing to keep up the spirits of the men. When he reached the end of the raft he curved in and passed close to the side where the oiler was paddling. When he saw the shark he was just putting his paddle into the water and could have touched it. He gave a cry of terror and, jumping up, rushed for the other side of the raft. It was fortunate that I was awake and watching, because I jumped for the opposite side just in time to balance the raft. He would have overturned it and had us all in the water at the mercy of the shark. The shark swam around the raft for about half an hour, and we kept very quiet, you may be sure. Once when it passed me it was so close I could have touched it. He was partly on his side and his mouth was open in a sort of fiendish grin as much as to say, ‘I will get you yet.’ His eyes seemed to be staring into mine. I stared right back at him and said to myself, ‘Well, old man, you may think that you are going to have me, but you are not.’ The sight of him did not make me feel any too good. I could feel funny little chills going up my spine. Everyone sighed a big sigh of relief when he was gone for good.
About noon we saw the smoke of another steamer. We watched it for quite a while, but it died away.
The afternoon was very hot, and thirst started to tell severely. Our mouths and tongues were badly swollen and we could only talk with an effort. I had to watch the steward and the oiler. They were dipping their fingers in the water and sucking them. That was the worst thing they could do, as it made them worse and was liable to drive them insane. I had spoken to all the men about this when we first were on the raft. As soon as I caught them doing it, I told them plainly that I was not going to jeopardize the lives of everyone on the raft by having one of them go insane. I told them that the first man I caught doing it I would throw overboard as protection for the rest. That kept them in their place for a while. Then the oiler thought that I was asleep and I saw him dip his hand into the water and drink out of it. It made me mad, and I jumped up and started for him. He went down on his knees and whimpered like a dog and begged that I give him another chance. I told him I would give him one chance, but that was all; then he would go overboard. That kept him straight; I did not see him do it any more. About three the steward gave out on us and we had quite a time getting him around.
When evening brought cooler weather we were all in more or less trouble with thirst. It was plainly to be seen that the end of another day would see some changes on the raft. I think Johnson and I were in the best shape.
The night relieved us a lot. A breeze sprang up and cooled the air a lot, though it kicked up a little chop which made it awfully sloppy on the raft. I remember how mad I got at Johnson. He was sleeping huddled close up to my back, the sailor and engineer sleeping with their heads on our hips. I had the weather side and every little chop would go right into my face. I stood it as long as I could, and when I woke the others up so we could turn over there was an awful holler.
Wednesday morning we saw a sailing ship heading to pass not far from us. Everyone woke up and we started to paddle for her. My, how we worked with only those small pieces of cork for paddles. In our exhausted condition it seemed as if they weighed a ton. It was discouraging work, as the raft barely moved. She passed about two miles from us and continued on her way. They had not seen us. Mother, I shall never forget that hopeless feeling that came over me, and I guess it came over the others. We just lay down in a heap too exhausted to move. The steward had not been paddling; we had had him waving a shirt for a flag. He still continued to wave this shirt.
I lay where I could watch her. Mother, probably you can imagine some of the thoughts that were passing through my mind. Suddenly I saw her start to haul up one side of her mainsail, and, having been in sailing ships, I knew that that meant she was going to turn around. That meant another chance for us, even if they had not seen us. They would pass near to us again. We kept the steward waving the shirt and we started again to paddle. It was soon apparent that they had seen us, for they were heading right for us. When she came close they called to us and asked who we were. I stood up and tried to tell them, but I could not talk; my mouth and throat were too swollen. I only made a sort of gurgling sound. They hove to and threw us a line and put a ladder over the side. Two of the men we had to have them hoist up; the rest of us climbed up the ladder.
I was the last to leave the raft. I cast off the line and then climbed halfway up the ladder and turned around and had a last farewell look at the old raft. I had a tender thought for it as I watched it drifting astern. Just as I reached the top and was putting my leg over the rail, I gave out, and if there had not been two men there to grab me I should have fallen back into the water. It was funny; my legs just were no good; I was conscious, but I could not walk. They helped us all to the cabin, where they gave us a small glass of water to wash our mouths with; then they gave us a small cup of coffee and a small square of bread and butter.
They let us rest a while. We could talk then, as the first bit of water loosened up our tongues right away. After a while they took us out on deck and scrubbed us in a big tub. Scrubbed us with regular scrubbing brushes like you use on the floor. Mother, you should have seen Johnson, and I guess I was as bad. They took us out in twos and Johnson and I were taken out together, and as I looked at him standing up in that tub he was a sight. First he was covered with crude oil and looked like a black man. His head was all blistered from the hot sun, and the salt water had made the blisters into sores which were full of yellow matter. His lips were the same; they were just yellow. Then he was so thin I could count every rib in his body. Where his stomach should have been there was only a hollow. He was a terrible-looking thing.
After they had washed us and bandaged our feet, which were the worst part of us, they put us to bed. None of us slept very long; we were too lame and sore and excited. When we got up, they gave us another small cup of coffee and a small piece of bread. That is all they would give us all that day, and yesterday until supper time. They would give us this bread and either coffee or water every hour or so, but no more. Last night we had our first meal.
Our feet are in very bad shape. The engineer’s are the worst; he cannot get out of bed. The rest of us hobble around without shoes or socks. Our bodies are all covered with little bubbles. They don’t itch, but if you break them they are all full of water.
The Captain is splendid, very simple and religious, and does everything possible for him to do for us.
Well, Mother, luck does not seem to run my way. I have nothing in the world but a shirt and a pair of trousers; even the chronometer is gone. I don’t know what I shall do when I arrive in New Orleans.
Don’t know yet where you can write me.
Well, good-bye. This little picture shows how we looked to one of the sailors on the Tana when they were picking us up. I took in six inches in my belt the six days and twelve hours that we were on the raft.
Lovingly,
GARLAND

Copyright 1929, by The Atlantic Monthly Company. All rights reserved.