by Senan Molony
For my parents
Then water was washing us away,
A torrent running right over us;
Running right over us then
Were turbulent waters.
Psalm 124
THE AUTHOR
Senan Molony is the Political Editor of the Irish Daily Mail. He has over twenty years’ experience in covering all forms of civil and criminal trials, parliament, judicial tribunals and inquiries. He was born in 1963.
His uncle was a Merchant Marine Captain in the Second World War whose vessels were sunk by enemy action on two occasions. Another uncle became Flag Officer of the Irish Naval Service. Mr Molony, whose other books include The Irish Aboard Titanic and Lusitania: An Irish Tragedy, lives in Dublin with his wife Brigid and three children.
ILLUSTRATIONS AND ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
All illustrations in this volume are credited to the original copyright holder. Reproduction fees paid to Southampton City Council; the Illustrated London News library; The National Maritime Museum, Greenwich; the Peabody Museum of Salem; Dundee City Archives; and the Mariners’ Museum, Newport News, Virginia. Permission to make use of a photograph from the Fr Browne Collection gratefully acknowledged to the Wolfhound Press and Society of Jesus, Dublin Provincialate. Crew images from the Public Record Office granted use with attribution. Pictures from defunct newspapers are deemed in the public domain.
The author expresses gratitude to the following for the use of pictures within their possession or other assistance with illustrations: Günter Bäbler; Joe Carvalho; Chris Dohany; George Fenwick; Charles Haas; Library of Congress; Stanley Tutton Lord estate; Martin Maher; Jeff Newman; Inger Sheil; Joanne Smith; Southampton Archive Services; 20th Century Fox; Claes Göran Wetterholm; J.&C. McCutcheon. Other images by the author. Any alteration to an image is stated in accompanying captions. In addition, any authorial comment within an extract is enclosed by square brackets.
Mr Paul Slish of Buffalo, NY, USA, proof-read the manuscript and also provided notable refinements and technical improvements. The author hereby acknowledges his significant contribution to the finished work. The author also wishes to thank Alec Dubber of Tempus Publishing for his editorial efforts.
CONTENTS
Title Page
Dedication
Epigraph
The Author, Illustrations and Acknowledgements
Introduction
1 Californian Stops
2 The Ship Not Seen by Titanic
3 The Ship Seen by Titanic
4 A Red Light’s Importance
5 The Mystery Ship Goes Away
6 Californian’s Own Mystery Ship
7 Groves and the Ship Unsaid
8 Forcing a Red Light
9 Location, Location and Location
10 A Flicker of Doubt
11 Appearances
12 A Steamer Steaming
13 The Wrong Steamer
14 Positional Proofs
15 Wreckage
16 Ernest Gill
17 Boston
18 The US Inquiry
19 The British Inquiry
20 Captains Contrasted
21 Missing Logs
22 The Final Report
23 Lord’s Rebuttal
24 Lord’s Last Testament
25 The 1992 Reappraisal
26 Conclusion
Appendix 1 Original statement of Herbert Stone
Appendix 2 Original statement of James Gibson
Appendix 3 Mystery Ship Claims
Further Reading
Plate Section
Copyright
INTRODUCTION
They are buoyed on a boundless ocean. From horizon to horizon, the slick surface of the sea is black and unbroken. The darkness is over the deep, and the nearest point of land is 800 miles away.
The glory of their gilded cage now seems a mockery. Instead of being safe and warm in the singing romance of a ship at sea, the 2,200 people aboard the RMS Titanic find to their surprise that she is sinking beneath their feet.
Immersion in freezing seawater is a cruel way to die. The pitiless seizure of limbs and sudden slowing of senses will speedily siphon all life away in the ultimate loneliness of the mid-Atlantic.
The disaster claimed more than 1,500 lives, equivalent to thirty busloads packed with individuals. It was a waste of talent, wisdom and potential on a massive scale. A liner trumpeted as ‘practically unsinkable’ went down in more than 2 miles of water off the coast of Newfoundland, and did so on her maiden voyage. Only 712 escaped.
It was not glorious, nor noble, nor in any way civilized, but a repulsive roulette that separated husbands from wives, fathers from children, and whole families from the veil of life. It was very far indeed from its modern reinterpretation as a deliciously exclusive way to die.
The Titanic went down because she was steaming too fast to avoid an iceberg. She had lifeboat spaces for 1,200 passengers and crew at the very most, which meant at least 1,000 were doomed to lose their lives, unless help could be summoned from somewhere.
In the two hours and forty minutes from impact to sinking, the Titanic sent out unceasing and increasingly desperate appeals for aid by wireless. The captain and officers in that time managed to launch sixteen boats and two collapsible craft. Two other collapsibles were swept off at the terrible end and provided temporary haven for ‘lucky’ swimmers who reached them in the dark.
Yet it could all have been so different.
There was another ship there.
A ship that could have undoubtedly alleviated the unfolding nightmare. This vessel, known as the ‘mystery ship’, approached from over the horizon and stopped when between 5 and 6 miles from the Titanic.
The joy on the White Star liner when she first appeared can be imagined. Second Officer Lightoller, in charge of loading lifeboats on the port side, saw that other vessel on the port bow. He admitted in his memoirs that he reassured the Titanic’s passengers that the other ship was on her way to their succour.
It is probable that the clear sighting of a ship’s light impeded the filling of lifeboats. Men could afford to indulge their bravado at the sight of a saviour so close. Women had a reason to refuse to risk life and limb by attempting to enter a ‘cockleshell’ in the dark, 70ft up.
All unconsciously remembered the great wireless rescue of barely three years earlier. In 1909, Jack Binns, the Marconi operator of another White Star liner, the Republic, had been able to conjure a variety of ships to the rescue through the magic of the ether. It appeared the recent invention of wireless had all but banished the spectre of major sinkings.
It was a misplaced trust. Wireless operators need sleep, and many in the vicinity, like Cyril Evans on the Californian, had gone to bed by midnight, long before the Titanic began tapping out her death rattle. None of the ships that did pick up the SOS were in a position to render assistance prior to the maiden voyager vanishing beneath the waves.
Except the mystery ship. This vessel seemed to promise deliverance. Why was she coming the ‘wrong way’ on an essentially westbound shipping track if she had not picked up the distress message?
If she had picked it up, why did she not use her own wireless in turn to communicate with the Titanic, which was by then firing a fusillade of rockets to attract her attention, and signalling constantly with Morse lamps?
Perhaps she did not have wireless. Perhaps she was herself stuck in ice invisible to the Titanic, and unable to make progress. If so, why did she not instead answer the Titanic’s Morse communications? Why did she, in fact, take no action whatsoever?
But she did take action. The action she took was to eventually steam away, crushing the hope of all those on the Titanic who had pinn
ed their trust to her so forlornly.
Without knowing the identity of the craft in question (Titanic Fourth Officer Boxhall judged her to be a three or four-masted steamer) it is impossible to answer these questions. Why did she steam away? If it was to look for a way through impeding ice, why did she not take that action sooner? Could she really have missed all the rockets? If not, what did she think they signified?
And we are brought in turn to the most chilling question of all: Is it possible that fellow seafarers, bound in the brotherhood of all who occupy their business in great waters, would knowingly discern distress and yet do nothing?
Monumental callousness!
It was for all these reasons that the first inquiry into the Titanic disaster, convened by the US Senate Subcommittee on Commerce, was anxious to pin down the identity of the mystery ship. It eventually settled on the Californian, a medium-sized tramp steamer of just over 6,200 tons, a workhorse of the Leyland Line, built in Dundee in 1901.
Like the Titanic, she was bound west that night, but for Boston, not New York. Her captain was Stanley Lord, a thirty-five-year-old shipmaster of extensive experience, who had qualified for command at a very early age. He signed a completed crew agreement on 1 April 1912 that named his chief officer as thirty-four-year-old George Stewart, with Herbert Stone and Charles Groves, both twenty-four, the other officers among a complement of fifty-five.
At 6 a.m. on 5 April 1912, the Californian left Victoria Docks, London, carrying a general cargo. It would be Captain Lord’s last full voyage as her commander. The British Inquiry, settling on the same verdict as that handed down in America, would soon see to that.
But was the mystery ship the Californian?
Doubts, argument and agitation persisted for the rest of the twentieth century. This book will, for the first time, examine the totality of evidence – particularly in light of the discovery of the Titanic’s actual wreck site in 1985, a location crucially unknown to the official investigations of seventy-three years earlier.
Great care has been taken to write this book for the ordinary reader, and it is hoped the voyage will therefore prove rewarding and revealing. Most of all, however, it is hoped that it will appeal to your common sense, in suspension of the instant judgement dispensed on both sides of the Atlantic in the wake of an appalling catastrophe.
1
CALIFORNIAN STOPS
The story begins with the Californian. Bound for Boston on the evening of Sunday 14 April 1912, she had been following the course of the liner Parisian and knew from wireless warnings that field ice lay ahead in her path. Californian’s captain, Stanley Lord, had seen three icebergs to his southward that early evening and passed this intelligence by wireless to other shipping – including Titanic.
At 10.20 p.m. that night, Captain Lord spotted an icefield ahead and ordered his helm hard over, reversing engines. He came to a stop one minute later, with the Californian’s head (bow) pointing north-east. Her bow had obviously been pointing due west, until she took avoiding action to escape the ice and ended up ‘heading about northeast true’ (Lord, US p.732). A current was operating that night which would gradually bring her bow around clockwise to point due east and eventually to point due south over some hours.
For now, all that needs to be known is that the Californian was stopped. She was to remain stationary, drifting absolutely imperceptibly (the current was half a knot per hour) for the whole of that fateful night…
EVIDENCE THAT THE CALIFORNIAN WAS STOPPED
Unimpeachable evidence that the Californian was at a standstill comes from her courtesy message to the Titanic, transmitted at 11 p.m. that night, which began ‘Say Old Man, we are stopped and surrounded by ice’ and which was coldly rebuffed by the Titanic’s senior operator Jack Phillips. Californian had no reason to lie about being at a standstill, and this message was transmitted before Titanic struck her iceberg.
The following evidence was given by the Californian’s captain, Stanley Lord, to the British Inquiry, in response to question number 6701:
Later on did you have to stop on account of ice? — I had to stop and reverse engines.
6702. Would you tell us what time that was? — 10.21 p.m.
6713. Until? — 6 o’clock next morning. 5.15 a.m. we moved the engines for a few minutes and then we stopped on account of the news we received, and waited ‘til 6 o’clock.
There is no suggestion that the Californian engaged her engines at any time that night. The British Board of Trade took depositions from all of her crew on their return at Liverpool and none suggested any navigation by the Californian from 10.21 p.m. to 6 a.m., when she began to move, in response to the dreadful news of the Titanic sinking, which she had just received by wireless.
Her original intention was to wait for morning before attempting to negotiate the ice barrier confronting her. A number of Californian crew witnesses called to the official inquiries testified to the point that their vessel was stopped that night. They included the apprentice officer, James Gibson:
7422. When you came on duty at midnight, did you find that your ship had stopped? — Yes.
7423. We have been told she stopped some time before half-past ten? — Yes.
Second Officer Herbert Stone also came on duty at midnight:
7809. Did you find the ship stopped and surrounded by ice? — Yes.
Third Officer Charles Victor Groves, who was on duty until midnight, when relieved by Stone, also answered questions:
8116. And we know your steamer stopped because she got among the ice? — Yes.
8117. At 10.26 was it? — Yes, at 10.26…
Chief Officer George Frederick Stewart was also called:
8572. Did you go on duty at 4 a.m.? — Yes.
8575. Did you find that your ship was stopped? — Yes.
And Wireless Operator Cyril Evans gave the following answers:
8976. We know she did [stop], about 10.25, your ship’s time? — Yes.
8977. Did you go on deck when you found the ship had stopped? — Yes.
8978. I think you found the Captain and the Chief Engineer discussing the matter? — Yes.
Captain Lord and W/O Evans also gave evidence in the US Inquiry, similarly claiming that the Californian was stationary that night.
Californian witnesses are unanimous in this regard. Absolutely no-one makes any suggestion to the contrary. This is important, as we shall see in due course.
Meanwhile it should be borne in mind that the 11 p.m. wireless warning to the Titanic – ‘we are stopped and surrounded by ice’ – independently confirms the Californian’s immobility, and does so in advance of Titanic’s collision. The evidence indicates that the Leyland liner SS Californian was stopped all night. To suggest otherwise is to suspect a mass conspiracy to deceive by every single man aboard Californian, when in fact her witnesses would tell very different stories in relation to their individual sightings that night.
A telegraph from the Senate in Washington to the US Marshal at Boston, instructing him to serve subpoenas on the captain and wireless operator of the California (sic). The instruction was carried out at 7 p.m. on 25 April 1912, an hour after receipt of this message.
There was no ‘agreed story’, except on one very salient fact: the Californian was immobile. This is a single important certainty on a night of myriad uncertainties.
2
THE SHIP NOT SEEN BY TITANIC
The ship seen by the Titanic in her throes of distress became known as the ‘mystery ship’. She is the vessel charged by Titanic survivors with not going to their assistance at a time when the Titanic must have been brilliantly visible to the stranger and was both flashing Morse lamps and firing rockets to summon assistance.
The first thing to be said about the mystery ship, however, is that she was not discernible before the Titanic had her emergency, nor when she had completed her failed attempt to evade the iceberg, and had come to rest. Thus the mystery ship was initially not seen by Titanic, and this is a poin
t worthy of particular and careful note.
It was the duty of the Titanic’s lookouts to report anything they saw. This might seem obvious but it needs to be reinforced. Frederick Fleet (one of the lookouts when she struck the iceberg and for up to forty-five minutes afterwards) stated that ‘We are only up there to report anything we see’ (US Inquiry, p.318). Senator Smith (Chairman of the US Inquiry) pursued this statement, pressing Fleet on the issue:
Smith: But you are expected to see – and report – anything in the path of the ship, are you not?
Fleet: Anything we see – a ship, or anything.
Smith: Anything you see?
Fleet: Yes; anything we see.
Fred Fleet and Reginald Lee, the other lookout, did not see another ship or light on the horizon before, during, or after the collision until their shift was relieved at 12.23 a.m. They were serving an extended watch because the Titanic’s clocks were due to be put back that night.
If the Californian was the Titanic’s mystery ship, it ought to have been seen by Fleet and Lee, as the Californian was stationary, and had been for over an hour at this point. Fleet was adamant, however:
Senator Smith: Were there lights of any other vessels in sight when you came down from the crow’s nest?
Fleet: There was NO lights AT ALL when we was up in the crow’s nest. This is after we was down and on the boats; then I seen the light.
Fleet was pressed on this point at the British Inquiry too. Here is his emphatic denial:
17429. Did you see this light on the port bow before you left the crow’s nest? — No, it must have been about 1 o’clock.
17430. Did you observe it before you left the Titanic?
17430a. [The Commissioner] He says he saw it at 1 o’clock. [To the Witness]: When did you leave the Titanic, at what time?