SS Arctic disaster
Great Western completed the crossing, from Bristol to New York City, in fourteen days and twelve hours;[3] under sail, westbound passages against the prevailing winds and current often took five weeks or more.
Senator James A. Bayard of Delaware was among those urging Congress to subsidize a U.S. steamship line: "America will soon become tired of being informed of British maritime supremacy ...
I suggest that Congress grant a carefully selected American shipping expert a completely free hand to proceed with the absolute conquest of this man Cunard".
The four, all constructed of wood, were broadly similar in size and performance; Arctic was marginally the largest, at 284 feet (87 m) in length and 2,856 tons by American custom house measurement.
Dickens found his Britannia cabin dark and cramped, "a thoroughly hopeless, and profoundly preposterous box", while the bleak saloon was "a long narrow apartment, not unlike a gigantic hearse".
[17] In Arctic, according to a seasoned transatlantic passenger, her cabins "in comfort and elegance surpassed that of any merchant vessel Great Britain then possessed",[18] while the main saloon had "an air of almost Oriental magnificence".
[10] Arctic passed Cape Clear, at the southernmost point of Ireland, early on the morning of September 21, and entered the open Atlantic approaching her maximum speed of 13 knots (15 mph).
[33] In the chartroom, Luce heard these orders and returned to the deck, just as Arctic was struck by the advancing steamer on the starboard side, between the bow and the paddle wheel.
[38] To those on Arctic's deck, Vesta appeared to be fatally damaged; Luce thought her bows "seemed to be literally cut or crushed off for full ten feet".
[39] He had noticed that Arctic had begun to list to starboard and settle by the bow, as well as a change in the movement of her paddle wheels through the water, signs of potentially serious damage.
Baalham was ordered to make a closer inspection of the point of impact; he found that debris from Vesta's iron stem and anchor were impaled in the woodwork of Arctic's hull, creating substantial holes about eighteen inches above the water-line.
[41] With Arctic's four pumps working at full capacity, Luce attempted to stanch the leak by passing a large canvas sail over the ship's bow.
This decision meant abandoning Vesta, but Luce rationalized that the French vessel was likely to sink at any moment and that remaining with her might well condemn his own passengers and crew to the same fate.
The fore and main yardarms, with various beams, spars and other wooden artifacts, were collected and lowered into the sea where Dorian, in the remaining boat, attempted to supervise the raft's construction.
[31] Despite Dorian's entreaties, his boat was rapidly overwhelmed; to save it he cut loose, leaving a final terrified scramble for whatever security the half-finished raft could provide.
[60] With Arctic rapidly sinking and all of the lifeboats gone, Luce instructed a young trainee engineer, Stewart Holland of Washington, D.C., to station himself at the bow and to fire the ship's signal cannon at one-minute intervals, in the hope of attracting the attention of a passing vessel.
[67] A few still frantically sought for means of survival; those who could not find a place on the raft lashed together anything that might float—chairs, stools, caskets, sofas and doors—while Holland continued to fire the cannon.
When he rose to the surface, "a most awful and heart-rending scene presented itself to my view—over two hundred men, women and children struggling together amidst pieces of wreck of every kind, calling on each other for help, and imploring God to assist them.
Early on the morning of September 29 they were close to the shoreline of Newfoundland's Avalon Peninsula, and shortly afterwards the two boats landed at Broad Cove, about 50 miles (80 km) south of St John's.
[79] Her arrival, on September 30, had provided the basis of the first, inaccurate report of the disaster in the local Patriot and Terra Nova Herald newspaper, in which it was assumed that Arctic had survived.
[77] The text of Geib's brief letter to the American consul appeared in that day's edition of the St John's Newfoundlander, while its rival newspaper The Public Ledger printed a more detailed account of the disaster provided by Baalham.
The New York, Newfoundland and London Telegraph Company, owners of the steamer Victoria, offered their vessel to the American consul for a fee of $500 a day, an action which led to considerable criticism from the local press.
[82] The whole time I had been in the water I had not eaten a particle of anything or drank a drop ... my sight had become so dim that I could not perceive objects a few feet off, even the ghastly faces of the dead that looked up at me from under the raft ... Dorian's lifeboat was the smallest of the ship's boats and, with 26 crew and 5 passengers on board, had only a few inches of freeboard.
The other crewmen, possibly anticipating a hostile reception in their home port, chose to remain with Huron and proceed to the Province of Canada, where she arrived on October 13.
Around noon on September 29, the sailing ship Cambria, out of Glasgow and heading for the Province of Canada, spotted Jassonet François, the Vesta fisherman who had been rescued by the Arctic after the collision.
[94][95] On the basis of the sketchy telegraphs from Halifax, the Baltimore Sun printed the false story that Vesta had saved 31 from Arctic's complement and brought them into St John's.
Among several recommendations were: the compulsory use of steam whistles or trumpets as fog signals; the construction of permanent watertight bulkheads in all passenger-carrying ships; organized lifeboat drills for passengers; better discipline and more training among seamen.
[91][109][n 8] Few of these suggested reforms were adopted immediately; calls for steamships sailing under the U.S. flag to carry sufficient lifeboats for everyone on board were resisted until after the loss of RMS Titanic 58 years later.
[111] Some of the crewmen who landed in the Province of Canada avoided questions by not returning to the U.S.; according to Shaw they "disappeared on the waterfronts along the St Lawrence River and found the obscurity they wanted".
[113] The Collins Line continued its fortnightly transatlantic mail steamship service with its three remaining ships, but suffered a further blow when, in January 1856, SS Pacific sank with her entire complement of 186 passengers and crew.
