Free Ship of Gold in the Deep Blue Sea by Gary Kinder Page A

passengers.”
    Though the passengers received the captain’s comments with great cheer, Herndon knew his hope was false. He knew the sea would rise again and the wind would blow with even greater fury. He knew that a ship floating 750 tons of iron with water filling her hold, and more water constantly rushing in, could remain afloat but a short while longer. He also knew that every bucket of water tossed back into the sea gave the ship and her passengers a few more seconds afloat, and that in those hours gained, real hope might appear on the horizon. He was in a frequently traveled part of the ocean, and if he could keep the steamer afloat at least until the storm abated, he had a chance of saving everyone by transferring them to a passing ship.
    About eight o’clock that morning, Captain Herndon went again to Judge Monson’s stateroom. In privacy, he told Monson they had no hope of surviving unless the storm ended soon or a vessel came in sight.
    â€œI presume I was the only person on board to whom he communicated that fact,” said Monson. “The captain was perfectly calm, but intimated that it was only to keep up the courage of the passengers and crew until the last moment.”
    Herndon ordered the flag lowered and then hoisted again upside down, a signal of distress to passing ships that might be able to assist. He ordered the bos’n to rig pulleys from the mizzen stay and to run lines down each of the three aft hatchways. To the pulleys they attached pork barrels and beef barrels and lowered them to men waiting with buckets and pans to fill them with seawater from the hold. Then a gang of fifty men topside heaved on the lines to hoist the barrels to the upper deck, where they dumped the water and lowered the barrels again. Each minute now, four hundred gallons of water left the ship in barrels.
    By midmorning they had nine rigs operating, in the aft hatches, over the fore hatch, between decks, and coming up from the engine room. And three gangs continued to pass buckets hand to hand. The women offered again to join the men in the bailing lines, and again the men refused. But Thomas Badger noted, “They cheered us up in our labors by their calmness in these trying times. And the men worked with suchincreased vigor that for the next two hours the water in the hold noticeably dropped.
    Captain Herndon continued to visit the bailing lines and the barrel gangs, cheering everyone to push beyond their limits and to keep hoping. But about ten o’clock Herndon was in his quarters when Badger reported to him that although the storm appeared to be abating, the water in the ship was once again gaining on the men rapidly. The engines, the boilers, the furnaces were immersed in fourteen feet of seawater, and the water had risen to within four feet of the second cabin floor.
    â€œThe vessel must go down,” said Badger.
    â€œI believe she must,” agreed Herndon. “I have made up my mind to that.”
    As the two men talked, Chief Engineer Ashby rushed into the captain’s quarters.
    Badger said to him, “The ship will sink.”
    The remark seemed to startle Ashby. “She shan’t sink!” shouted the engineer. “I’ll be damned if she shall! We must all go to work and bail her out!”
    Badger replied that he wished talking in that manner would make the waters recede, but he and all the rest on board had been hard at work all night bailing, and still the water was rising. No one knew when, but the ship would go down.
    In front of these two men, Herndon allowed his true feelings to show. He too was dealing with his mortality and thoughts of never again seeing his wife, Francis, or his daughter, Ellen. He was tired and dejected and seemed resigned to his fate. He told Badger and Ashby that it was hard to leave his family this way, but, of course, that could not be helped; he was the captain, and as long as others could be