Now at the beginning of the war it had been a very difficult question for the directors of the Cunard Company to decide as to whether the transatlantic traffic, under the new and unprecedented conditions, would be sufficient to justify the continued running of two such large and costly vessels as the Lusitania and the Mauretania. It was decided, however, after much consideration, that the Lusitania could be run once a month, providing that her boiler power was reduced by one-fourth. The consequent saving in coal and labour of this would, the Directors considered, enable them to run the vessel without loss, although with no hopes of making a profit. Six of the Lusitania’s boilers were accordingly closed, and the ship began to run in these conditions in November, 1914, the effect of the closing of the six boilers being to reduce her maximum speed to 21 knots. It is to be noted, however, that this reduction still left the Lusitania very considerably faster than any other transatlantic steamer.
Nor had she lacked in exciting experiences before the fatal 1st of May, 1915, on which she left New York for the last time. On the very day that war was declared in 1914, she had started from New York for Liverpool, under the command of Captain Daniel Dow, one of the best-known and most respected figures in the Cunard Company’s service, who retired after 43 years’ service in 1919. Within a few hours of leaving New York, an enemy warship was sighted on the horizon, and observed to change her course immediately, with the presumed object of intercepting the Lusitania. Without a moment’s hesitation, Captain Dow set his course for a fog bank to the south, where he was soon lost to sight by the enemy. As soon as he was out of view, Captain Dow swung the Lusitania round again and steamed northwards at his highest speed. Having thus out-manoeuvred the hostile commander, he resumed his eastward course again, navigating his great ship by night without lights, and safely reaching Liverpool.
Again in February, 1915, while Captain Dow was still in command of her, the Lusitania, on an eastward voyage, received a wireless message to the effect that enemy submarines were cruising in the Irish Sea. He received instructions to fly a neutral flag—a perfectly legitimate ruse—and having on board some 400 Americans, together with the United States mails, he decided to hoist the American flag. Having done so, he crossed the Irish Sea at full speed, without stopping to take up a pilot; steered straight for the Mersey, and once more brought his vessel home in safety. Soon after this, Captain Dow, upon whom the strain of responsibility had been very great, was retained ashore by the Directors for a brief and much needed rest, and Captain W. T. Turner, one of the Cunard Company’s most trusted commanders took his place, with an assistant captain, Captain Anderson, also on board.
The “Lusitania” passing The Old Head of Kinsale, within a few miles of the spot where she was torpedoed
That an attempt was to be made upon the Lusitania had for some days been current rumour in New York, and on Saturday, May 1st, 1915, her advertised sailing date, the following advertisement appeared in the New York Times, New York Tribune, New York Sun, New York Herald, and the New York World. “Travellers,” it stated, “intending to embark on the Atlantic voyage are reminded that a state of war exists between Germany and her Allies, and Great Britain and her Allies, that the zone of war includes the waters adjacent to the British Isles, that in accordance with formal notice given by the Imperial German Government, vessels flying the flag of Great Britain, or of any of her Allies, are liable to destruction in those waters, that travellers travelling in the war zone in ships of Great Britain or her Allies do so at their own risk. April 22nd, 1915, The Imperial German Embassy, Washington, D.C.” It is safe to say, however, that but small attention was paid to this notice, very few people contemplating that such a diabolical threat as was implied in this notice would be seriously carried out by any civilised Christian Power. On the 1st May, therefore, the vessel sailed in fine weather, and with a calm sea. The voyage till May 7th was marked by no untoward event. As the danger zone was approached, Captain Turner took all the necessary precautions. All the lifeboats under davits were swung out; all bulkhead doors, except such as were required to be kept open in order to work the ship, were closed, the portholes being also closed; the look-outs on the ship were doubled—two men being sent to the crow’s nest, and two to the eyes of the ship; two officers were always on the bridge, and a quartermaster was stationed on either side with instructions to look out for submarines.
Up to 8 o’clock on the morning of May 7th the vessel’s speed had been maintained at 21 knots, but at 8 o’clock this was somewhat reduced, the object being to ensure that the Lusitania should arrive outside the bar at the mouth of the Mersey at such an hour on the morning of the 8th as would enable her to make immediate use of the tide, thus avoiding loitering in a vicinity where Captain Turner had reason to suppose enemy submarines might be watching for him. Soon after this reduction of speed the weather became thick, and the fog into which she had run necessitated a further reduction to 15 knots. Just before 12 o’clock, however, the fog lifted, and the vessel’s speed was increased again to 18 knots—a speed that was maintained until she was struck by the enemy torpedo.
The “white wake” that stretched to the beaches of Gallipoli
At the same time orders were sent to the engine-room to keep the steam-pressure as high as possible, so that in case of emergency the Lusitania might be able to put on all possible speed, should this be ordered from the bridge. Land was now in sight, about two points abaft the beam, and Captain Turner took this to be Brow Head. Owing to the recent fog, however, he was not able to identify it with sufficient certainty to enable him to fix the Lusitania upon the chart. He, therefore, kept her upon her course, which was S.87.E and parallel with the land, until twenty minutes to one, when, in order to make a better landing, he altered the course to N.67.E.