The Corsair in the war zone

by Ralph Delahaye Paine

Industriously employed in this service with the convoys, the Corsair encountered no slant of misfortune until June. Then came the loss of the fine cargo steamer Californian with holds and decks full of several million dollars worth of supplies for the American Army in France. This disaster was not the result of submarine attack. The ship was unlucky enough to bump a German mine about fifty miles off the entrance of the Gironde River while nearing port with the convoy and escort.

The Corsair stood by and made every possible effort to save the precious Californian endeavoring to haul her along at the end of a tow-line, but the damage was vital and salvage hopeless. It was one of those numerous episodes of the warfare at sea, as waged by the enemy, which seemed so enormously wasteful, so impossible for civilization to endure, this senseless obliteration of property on a scale without precedent in the whole history of mankind.

THE SINKING CALIFORNIAN. GOING, GOING, ALMOST GONE!

CALIFORNIAN SURVIVORS ABOARD THE CORSAIR

The Corsair found the convoy of eight ships in the afternoon of June 20th and took position with the other escort vessels, Aphrodite, May, Nokomis, and two French patrol boats. They steamed toward the coast at eleven knots without misadventure until early in the morning of the 22d. Then the Californian made a turn to the right, quitting the formation, and slowed speed until she came to a halt. Her crew could be seen jumping into the boats and letting them drop from the davits. There was no more ado about it than this, no sound of an explosion nor any disturbance of the sea. It was an uncanny, inexplicable thing to witness. From the bridge of the Corsair it was easy to perceive that the sailors of the Californian were proceeding, earnestly and eagerly, to abandon ship. It was done without disorder, but they were wasting no time.

The Corsair promptly swung to go near, at the order of Lieutenant McGuire, who was the officer of the deck. The yacht moved to the rescue with a speed which surprised even the Californian. Already the long, deep-laden steamer was settling by the head. One of the little French escort vessels had also hastened to the scene, but as she rolled in the trough of the ground swell, the sea slapped across her deck and the first boat to pull away from the Californian found so much difficulty in trying to lay aboard that the men semaphored the Corsair: “Will you please come and pick us up?” Presently the master of the big steamer and many of his crew were scrambling up the side of the Corsair, where Commander Porter strongly urged that an attempt be made to save the Californian. He was ready to tow if the water could be kept down in the flooded compartments. It was a sporting chance, but better than letting the ship drown before their eyes.

Cheered by this readiness to lend a hand, the executive officer of the Californian, with sixteen volunteers from their crew, returned on board and a ten-inch manila hawser was passed from the Corsair. Because the bow of the stricken ship had filled so fast and was almost buried in the sea, the hawser was made fast astern and the Corsair tried to tow her wrong end to, as offering the least resistance. The sluggish mass moved very slowly, perhaps two knots, but it was impossible to steer it. The plucky Corsair dug her toes in, as one might say, and pulled like a thoroughbred horse harnessed to a wagonload of stone.

When this first attempt proved futile, it was decided to try towing by the bow, but while they were dragging the hawser forward the engine-room bulkheads collapsed with a roar and the sea rushed in to fill the dying ship. She went down by the head, the stern rearing higher and higher in air, until the great hull towered in a vertical position, and there it hung for an amazingly long time. It was surmised that the bow had struck the bottom of the sea. Then the stern slowly dropped and vanished while the crew of the Corsair watched and wondered and felt very sad at heart.