The slight tremblings of the earth increased, and almost at the same time as the clearing of the sky, there was a serious shake. On board the Bear the trouble was not so noticeable, but ashore the occupants of the storehouse fled in terror, crying that the building would fall on them. Their fears were not without justification, for the big frame building creaked and swayed in an alarming manner.
This decided the matter. Every one was somehow stowed on board the Bear and at slow speed, only enough to give steerage way, with two leads going, and the oldest and most experienced pilot in the bow to con her through the narrow channel, the cutter made her way out safely. She anchored in the outer harbor, fortunately having secured a bearing from Woody Island, whereby she could run out to sea by compass course should conditions warrant. This also gave an opportunity to relieve the suffering on Woody Island, and 104 persons were brought on board, making 486 people to be fed from the supplies handled by the Bear. It was incredible how so many could be accommodated, but the organization was perfect.
The night was spent in great suspense; but Eric, who had been relieved from duty, slept through it. It was noon before he finally wakened, to find a bright sunlit sky and a ship clear of ashes. In the afternoon, as the effects of the eruption cleared away, three expeditions were sent to Woody Island, to St. Paul, and to the neighboring islands. Eric was sent with the Redondo on the rescue party that was headed for Afognak.
There it was learned that the eruption had come from Mount Katmai, on the mainland of the Alaska Peninsula, opposite Kodiak Island, and that there were people in distress in the region of the volcano. Without an instant's delay the Redondo was headed out of the harbor, and despite a dense fog, she was run through the Kupreanoff Straits and across Shelikoff Straits to Kaflia Bay.
At half-past two in the morning, the Redondo dropped anchor near the volcano, and as soon as it grew light, Eric was sent to head a landing party. Every hut was covered with ashes, and a native, pointing to one of the drifts, said it was as high as "five houses," or about fifty feet high. All the streams were buried; there was not a drop of liquid of any kind, and the villagers had lived in the tortures of that ash-choked air for three days, waterless. Two were delirious from thirst, all were at the point of exhaustion when the Coast Guard men appeared to save them.
With her engines throbbing at their utmost speed, the Redondo passed from point to point of the stricken coast, saving over fourscore lives that a half a day's delay would have rendered too late to save. When the dusk of that day deepened into evening, the Redondo turned homeward from those shrouded shores, bearing to safety the homeless victims of the peninsula and islands close at hand.
Courtesy of U.S. Coast Guard.
Native Refugees from Katmai Eruption.