Bert Wilson, Wireless Operator

by J. W. Duffield

But if eyes were strained on the Fearless, how much more earnestly did everyone of those on the ill-fated steamer look for some sign or sound from a rescuing ship? The typhoon had passed very quickly, but what havoc it had wrought in so short a time! The floating palace that had seemed so secure was now reduced to a dismantled, twisted hulk, water-logged and slowly carrying her unfortunate passengers to destruction.

A whole hour had passed since the message had been sent forth to seek and find help, but no help had come. Who shall attempt to record the history of that hour? At first hope, faint it is true but still hope, then increasing anxiety as the doomed vessel settled deeper and deeper in the water, then growing despair as all feared, what the captain and crew knew, that in a very little while would come the end. Even if a vessel should appear now, the captain feared that only a few could be saved, as it must be a work of time to transfer those hundreds of passengers from one ship to another. As all the life-boats had been smashed and carried away, precious minutes must be lost awaiting a boat from the rescuing ship. But in order that all might be in readiness, the women and children were placed close to the rail to be taken first, and the other passengers told off in squads for each succeeding embarkation so that there need be no confusion at the last moment.

To the poor unfortunates those long minutes of waiting, fraught with possibilities of life or death, had seemed like hours. A great quiet had fallen over them, the paralyzing stupor of despair. Nearly all had ceased to hope or look for rescue, but sat with bowed heads, awaiting the fate which could not now be long delayed.

Suddenly, through this silent despairing company ran an electric thrill. Life pulsed in their veins, and hope that they had thought dead, sprang anew in their hearts. A sailor casting one despairing glance about him, had seen the smokestacks of a steamer gleaming red through the faint mist that still hung over the water. Springing to his feet, he began shouting, “Sail ho! a sail! a sail!” For a moment all was wildest confusion, and it was with greatest difficulty that the captain, who had prepared for just this outbreak, could control these frantic people and restore discipline among them. By this time, the lookout on the Fearless had made out the wreck and a heartening toot-toot from her steam whistle gladdened the waiting hundreds. But would she reach them in time? Already the captain had noticed the trembling of the ship that so surely foretells the coming plunge into the depths of the ocean. It is a miracle that Fate had so long stayed her hand. To be lost now, with life and safety almost within their grasp, would be doubly terrible.

Breathlessly they wait until the steamer moving at the very limit of her speed, comes nearer and nearer, till at last she slows and drifts only a few hundred feet away.

To the surprise of the Fearless, no attempt was made on board the sinking ship to lower her boats; and equal was the consternation on board the sinking steamer, when they saw that no boats were lowered from the other ship.

“Her boats are gone, too,” shouted Bert as the situation became plain to all. No sooner had the words left his lips than the Fearless’ carpenters were at work, and in an incredibly short space of time, a rough life buoy was knocked together. They worked with a will for they knew that every second might mean a life. The buoy consisted of a rude platform with uprights at its four corners, to the top of each of which a pulley was securely fastened. Around the uprights ropes were wound making a rude but safe conveyance.

While this was doing, a ball with string attached was shot from a small cannon on board the Fearless. Whistling through the air, it landed just within the wrecked ship’s rail. Eager hands prevent it from slipping and there is no lack of helpers to draw in the line to the deck. With deft but trembling hands the crew work to secure the cable which follows the line.

At last the life line is adjusted and secured between the two ships, the life buoy comes speeding over the water to the doomed vessel, and as it rushed back toward the waiting Fearless, with its load of women and children, a great cheer goes up. A moment, and the forlorn creatures are lifted by tender hands to the Fearless, and the buoy swings back for a second load. The work of rescue has begun.