Please wait. Contacting image service... loading

Article text

PERILS OF THE SEA.
SHIP EMILY REED WRECKED.
SURVIVORS' THRILLING
EXPERIENCES.
Writing from Los Angeles (U.S.A.)
on February 20 the correspondent of
the "Daily Telegraph" says that nine
members of the crew of the American
ship Emily Reed, 103 days out from
Newcastle, Now South Wales, with a
cargo of coal for Portland, Oregon,
were lost when the vessel went ashore
half a mile south of the Nehalem River,
on the Oregon coast, at 1.30 o'clock in
the morning of February 14, The
dead are:-Ship's Carpenter West-
lund, Seamen Sortzeit, Johnson, Dick-
son, Darling, Cohenstad, and Gilbert,
the cabin boy (Hirschfeld), and the
cook (name unknown).
Captain Kessel, his wife, First Mate
Fred Zube (or Dubie), Second Mate
Charles Thompson, Seamen Ewald
Ab Idstedt, Arthur Juhunke, Sullivan,
Bartell, and Franchez were saved. The
captain, his wife, and five of the sur-
vivors managed to make their way
ashore when the ship struck, but the
first mate, two seamen, and the cook
were not rescued till they had voyaged
200 miles in an open boat. The cook
died from the hardships he endured,
and through drinking salt water, while
the others were all delirious. The
ship has broken up, and together with
its cargo of 2110 tons of coal is a total
loss. Owing to the long passage of
the ship, 25 per cent. reinsurance had
been offered on her. For several days
preceding the wreck heavy weather had
prevailed off the coast of Oregon. The
main cause of the disaster, however,
was the fact that the captain's chro-
nometers were wrong.
Captain Kessell was endeavoring to
make Tillamook Rock. He was correct
in his latitude, but too far to the east-
ward. When he discovered his posi-
tion the vessel was among the breakers.
It was too late to wear ship, and she
struck on one of the most dangerous
places on the Oregon coast. When she
hit the beach bow on there was a heavy
sea running and a strong flood tide.
Her back broke, and the forward end
took a list to port. A lifeboat was
launched, in which were the first mate,
Fred Zube (or Dubie, he being given
both names), Seamen Ewald Abildstedt,
Arthur Jahunke, and the cook. It
seemed to the captain and the rest of
those on the wreck that, as soon as this
boat hit the water it was swamped, and
they so reported when they, reached
shore. Three days later this lifeboat
turned up 200 miles to the north.
After having seen, as he thought,
four of his men drowned before his
eyes, the captain advised the remainder
to stay by the wreck till daylight broke.
He himself remained on the poop, but
forced his wife to keep below. The
second mate and three men on his
watch were on the main deck. When
the forward portion of the ship listed
they succeeded in making their way aft,
and clung to the ship till daylight,
which brought dead low water, and
then they, with the captain and his
wife, managed to get ashore.
The captain reported the death of 12
of the crew, but on February 17 came
the report from Neah Bay, Washington
State, that three more men had sur-
vived. Just about midnight the watch
of the little six-ton sloop Teckla, lying
at anchor at Neah Bay, was startled by
a feeble hail. Those on deck saw a
steel lifeboat drawing up slowly. The
boat carried four men, three, living and
one dead, from the Emily Reed, whose
timbers were being pounded on the
shore of Oregon, 200 miles away. The
cook had been dead over a day, while
the first mate and the two seamen with
him were in a pitiable condition. Their
tongues were so swollen from thirst
that they could scarcely articulate.
Later in the day the first mate was
sufficiently recovered, to be able to tell
their story.
"Almost the instant the Emily Reed
struck the beach," he said, "she began
to break up. As she struck the spats
went out of her. We had scarcely a
minute's warning of breakers before
the shock came. I was forward, call-
ing all hands on deck when she struck.
In a twinkling one of the lifeboats was
smashed by a big wave, and the decks
were so deep in the boiling water that
there was no time to get aft, where
Captain Kessel and his wife and some
of the rest of the crew were.
" We had to act quickly; Abilstedt,
Jahunke, and the cook came tumbling
out of the forecastle with scarcely any
clothing on their backs. We jumped
'into the remaining lifeboat and cut at
the lashings. A big sea broke over
the wreck and carried us clear. A
second wave carried away, part of the
galley deck roof, and it was hard work
clearing the boat of the wreckage.
One of my arms was broken when the
wreckage of the galley dropped on to
us. Moreover, there was only one good
oar in the boat. We did our best to
get back to the wreck, but failed, and,
believing all hands save ourselves were
lost, we got up sail and stood out to
sea. As I knew the coast to be a de-
solate one, I thought it best to keep
the boat well out, hoping to fall into
the path of steamships. With this
idea I set the course northward.
"Water came in fast, as the metal
boat had been punctured in several
places by the wreckage which fell on
her. There was nothing to bale with
so we tried to cut off part of the air-
tight compartments with our knives.
It was tedious work sawing at the
tough metal, and we had worn all our
blades off before we could wrench half
it off.
"This box we used as a baler. It
took about half an hour to get the boat
empty, and in about half an hour we
would have to do it again. The se-
cond night out we saw lights ashore,
but it was too dark for us to venture
in. There was neither food nor water,
and we suffered terribly from thirst.
Toward evening the cook declared he
could not stand it any longer, and took
a drink of sea water. He soon became
delirious and lay down in the pool of
water in the bottom of the boat About
2 o'clock Sunday morning we saw a big
steamer. She stopped near us, and we
all believed we should be saved at
once. One of the men shook the cook
awake, and, pointing to the steamer,
asked him if he didn't want to be
saved. He got on his feet and seemed
rational as he watched the steamer.
Just then the vessed got under weigh
again and left us. Then the cook
gave up the fight. He lay down to die.
Half an hour later we found his body
cold; his heart had stopped beating.
"All Sunday we kept seeing all
sorts of vessels, but none would ans
wer our hails. I suppose we were too
far off to be made out plainly. When
we sighted Tatoosh lighthouse at night
we gathered what little strength we
had left and steered the boat to Neah
Bay."
The little boat was at sea 78 hours,
and must have drifted at the rate of
two miles and a fraction per hour to
get 200 miles north. There was a
biting wind most of the time, and the
men suffered terribly from exposure as
well as from want of food and drink.
The Emily Reed was built in 1880, be-
longed to Hind, Rolph., and Co. of
San Francisco, and left Newcastle, New
South Wales, for Portland on Novem-
ber, 3, 1907.
$