ADRIFT IN THE ATLANTIC.

New Zealand Times, Volume LXIX, Issue 3675, 27 February 1899, Page 5

ADRIFT IN THE ATLANTIC.

SURVIVORS OP THE LONDONIAN INTERVIEWED.

How does it feel to be adrift in the Atlantic for days, with the spectre of death at the helm? The question occurred to a London journalist when he met some of the survivors of the lost liner Londonian. Wliat concerned me (says the interviewer) were the thoughts and feelings of those men while in their peril. It was the human interest which I pursued. “Now 1 , how did you feel,” I asked, J‘ when you found the Londonian at the mercy of the storm, you unable to do anything but hang on to her?” My question was not answered for a minute. We all smoked. I wondered if I had made myself clear. ' "Oh yes, you have/' said the sailor nearest me, “ but how can I answer you? I really don't know what I did feel. I didn't feel anything particular, except that it was a bad job. If you were in a train and that train had a mishap, how would you feel?” There was a kindle of the eye as this puzzle was put to me. It was my turn to be •silent.

“The fact was,”continued the questioner, "that- Although ,the Londonian was drifting like a. log, we behaved much as we did while she was all well. We talked, chewed a bit of baccy, even laughed when there was anything to laugh at. That, perhaps, was not often/' , I went, onward to the appearance of the Vedamore' in answer, to the signals of distress shown by the Londonian. That must have been a glad 1 moment? “Of course/' 1 was the answer, “we wore relieved at the possibility of help, but Pm sure we didn’t cheer or anything. -We merely worked on, as before; at the tasks which’ we -found , to; hand. We -had met another ship. This was' fortunate - ; and that was' about’all. I suppose sailors are a queer lot-r-juat ready, for the best or the worst. Passengers are different; : They have feelings. And mostly cattlemen are somewhat .like passengers. They aren’t of .the sea/’ 5

Next; to. the long attempts to establish communication between the Vedamore and the Loijdouian. v For. a whole day they were unsuccessful, and the Londonian. was awash like a raft. It was a touch and go with her, and it might be the latter at any moment. ‘ ' ;

Yes/’ ,1 got the admission, it was rather hard on us that rescue-should be so near and yet so far. The storm just delighted in spoiling all the labours to bring the two ships into connection. But where’s the use of grumbling at a storm? It does no good, and you don’t grumble as at other things. . The Londonian lay over so .much that, you could not move an inch without; having hold-of something. Still it. was best to be on the' move, even if it were only trying to get a bit of grub. I hardly had any for.five days, because cooking was out of the question. Everything was wet. We had a little rum left, and it was served out. It did not go far among so many.” . . ; Here I sought some picture of the eventual scene, when forty-five men were got aboard the Vedamore by lines: and a boat. ■ ' . i

' “It was very: hard work for everybody ’’ —such was the matter-of-fact observatiori. “ There have,, no doubt,, been worse seas in the Atlantic, but the . one which hid the ships from each other was bad enough ■To ■be sure;- communication broke down before the job of ■ rescue . was completed, and that was a misfortune. But nobody stopped t othink, much less t odespair. A sailor does not think—if he is wise—and he is not. paid his month’s wages to despair. Isn’t it so? You often hear that a fireman has as v many lives as a cat. Why, bless me, that’s nothing to the. number a sailor should have.”

The weary struggle for survival brought disaster to, the last full boat) which tried to reach the Vedamore from the Londoniah., Of the men in that boat only six escaped, her, capsizing, and they by being hurled: back on to the deck of the Londoniah. Thus they rejoined Captain Lee and one of his officers, who had'never been off the - sinking Londonian. There was no room for them in'the boat, which heroic fact probably saved them. . i " Well,” spoke my. sailor friends,' “ wo. cannot tell you a great deal of those events. The rescued on-the Vedamore beheld the boat tragedy, but what could be done?: Simply nothing. It was the sea. Some* had been , taken, while, others were left,and it might have been the contrary wise. Death by drowning at sea is more vague than death on land, where you have the, body left as sad witness. The boat had been swallowed up, Blotted out, except for the six heaved again oh to the Londoniah. She had now eight aboard.” That night the elements parted the Londonian and the Vedamore, arid the plight of the eight can be imagined. “Do you know,” said one. of. them? pathetically, “it was almost a relief to find - the ocean empty —no Vedamore. We knew that she arid we could not reach each other without boats, for by this, time the storm had destroyed all that were of use in such weather; Therefore • the presence of the Vedamore only kept vain hopes alive in ns;” The remark shows the desperate Straits to which tho little group left on the Londonian had been reduced. Certainty whs welcome, however black. i Yet the ocean, being all romance arid tragedy, is also all uncertainty. Thirtyhours "later the- Maria Eickraers sighted the Londonian, and contrived to rescue Captain Lee and, his companions. They were so few that’ they could only crawl together for warmth, and feel the Londonian sink lower and lower into the water. They could measure.' destruction with ; a three-feet rule. That she went to the bottom soon after the second deliverance from her, nobody seemed to have’the least doubt. ,

; “Ah,” said an A.B. on that head, "we put good work into the battening down of the Londonian, or she could not have swum so long as she did.’ It is something to be proud of; that she should hare been kept afloat for so long. There was never a coward on the Londonian, not a, mein who did not do his duty to the last. Everything was right and proper, and I think’ we should get credit as a crew? from the public—especially as wo all lost our kits.” Of this hand I made the inquiry, "What troubled your mind most in all your troubles?” 1 ' ' "’ I

"That inquiry again,” he bantered, adding, however, the remark, "I think the coming of darkness was the thing we felt most while wo f were on the Londonian, So long as daylight lasted we could.get along, and we even had glimpses of the sun. Night was a bit of a terror.” i To landsmen it will seem thatthe whole experience of these hardy " Londonians ” was ai terror; But there was comfort in the remark of the A. 8.: " I hope skippers of the line, in any hour of difficulty, will always be able to say, * Remember how the Londonian crew behaved/ ” , ■ ’ i

It's all a true British story of the sea.

The late Hr J. J. Coleman’s celebrated herd of red-polled cattle and flock of Southdown sheep, which: have won over 600 prizes since 1888, is to be dispersed. A farm labourer who had been summoned to appear before a s Lincoln bench of magistrates on.'-a: shargerof'Tdrankenness was fomid in the morning hanged in a stable. "One is na sac soon heal’d as hurt.” You will never he hnrt if you drink nothing but A. and B Mackay’s Liqueur Whisky. 8