“There isn’t any use of you fellows getting away up aft and forrid there,” the skipper shouted, “because if there’s another blow-up, you’ll have nothing but the sea.”
He knew what was going to happen if the benzine became ignited.
The lifeboats, tackle, and falls would go up like chaff, and all hands would have the choice of drowning or sticking to a red-hot tanker.
Calling his men from their perches, Captain Bugge ordered all lifeboats dropped over the side. Although another explosion was expected momentarily, the sailormen obeyed orders. The chief officer and five men got into the after-starboard lifeboat, and, making it fast, played out their line until they drifted astern 100 yards. With this boat out of the way, the men were prepared to jump and make for it if the fire got to the benzine. Captain Bugge stuck to the bridge until a great wall of water heeled the vessel over and ripped open a tank.
Benzine mixed with the spindrift swashed into the flames and drove a liquid blaze over the house. The bridge and chart room were soon stripped of everything in them not made of metal, and the compass, falling from its supports, rolled into the sea. Presently the terrific heat burst another tank and sprayed the sea with fire.
The water-soaked line to the trailing lifeboat astern soon crumpled into ashes under the terrific fire the northeaster blew upon it, and, with its occupants, the boat bounded on to the southwest. It was never seen again. The other boats, charred and battered, were useless.
When hope had been abandoned, a great wave swept La Habra from stem to stern, and when it passed the flames were gone. The fire was out for good.
Throughout the battle with fire and storm no benzine got into the fire room. The broken tanks were now burned out and the tanker was at least safe from fire.
Although badly battered by the storm, the tanker’s engines were not damaged, and under her own steam she started on her course to the northeast.
Captain Bugge had nothing to guide him but the sun. His bridge compass was gone, and the one astern made useless by the fire. He said he had an idea where the Azores might be, and finally got into Horta safely.