Chapter 8
Briareos – the Greek god of sea storms
The water was calm and the winds were soft. Passengers were able to go on deck and take in some sun and fresh air. In fact, for the first week they were at sea, one day seemed like the next. The seas were calm and the passengers for the most part appeared happy and excited about going to America.
One evening a group of people gathered on the forecastle and sang hymns. The bosun and a few other sailors joined in the choruses. There was dancing as well. A pretty girl with long dark hair and red freckles all over her cheeks danced with a couple of the younger sailors. Many of the passengers danced as well. The pretty girl grabbed Esben’s hand and pulled him out to dance with her. Esben’s face blushed to a deep red. When he finished dancing with the young girl, Esben danced with his mother as well as Mrs. Andresen and Mrs. Lindberg.
By the time they all went below to the steerage, they were ready for bed. The soft rocking of the ship as it slowly made its’ way to their new home put Esben to sleep immediately.
“What’s your name laddies? You out getting your sea legs?” The old sailor asked as Esben Hjerstedt and Charles Lindbergh walked along the lee rail watching the water slowly pass below them. The water was calm and the wind was soft. The sailors gave up trimming the sails and were taking down those that were in need of repair.
Esben and Charles were allowed to come on deck to take in some sun and fresh air. The ship got rather musty smelling and they were glad they were able to get out. They were instructed not to talk or make any noise. A small breeze picked up for a moment but then stopped. For the second day in a row the ship was being powered by its steam engines as the sails were unable to capture any wind to propel them. Today they hoped that would change.
Esben looked at Charles and decided since the sailor asked them a question, it was alright to speak. “Esben and his name is Charles, Esben replied sticking his thumb in the direction of Charles’ face. What’s yours?”
“Ha, ha, you’re a spunky one, ain’t ya? Me name is Palmer, well, at least that’s what me mates call me. My real name is Christianson but I haven’t been called by that name for years; only Palmer.”
“Why do they call you Palmer when your real name is Christianson? That’s just plain crazy.”
“ Ha, that it is. You see this piece of wood, Palmer said as he picked up a round piece of wood about four inches in diameter and about two inches thick? Well, it’s called a palmer because it fits in the palm of your hand, see? “The old sailor put the round piece of wood in his left hand and held it up for the boys to see.
“What is it for?” Charles Lindbergh asked.
“I mend the sails when they tear. That canvas is so thick the only way I can get the needle through it is by pushing it with this palmer here. My mates will be bringing the mainsail to me soon and I’ll be fixin’ the tear we got as we left the North Sea. Them winds tore her a good one.
How you like sailin’ so far, mates? You been sick yet? If not, you will be. We got a big storm headin’ our way, I guarantee it. Whenever the wind is this calm it is followed by a blow sure as we are sittin’ here.”
“How do you know?” Esben asked.
“How do I know? I know because we are in the doldrums and I have been sailing all me life and a storm always follows the doldrums. That’s how I know.”
“Oh, when will the storm come?”
“Now that I don’t know, but it will be soon. Maybe later today, tonight or tomorrow morning; but I tell ya’ this, it will be here no later than tomorrow night. Mark my word mates, she’s coming. When you see the waves a breakin’ keep your eyes peeled for the sea gods. That’s where they dwell, you know. They wrap their arms around the backs of giant whales causing the waves to crash over the ships. Any ship caught in open water would be pounded to splinters or swamped like a cockleshell. Whole fleets have disappeared altogether with no trace ever found. They make their home on the floor of the North Sea, the sea gods do.”
The boys eyes got big as saucers and Palmer let out a loud cackle. “Don’t worry lads, we will weather this storm.”
“Look, Mr. Palmer, sea birds,’ Esben cried.
“Them’s not sea birds, lad, they’re birds of passage. Something has disturbed them from their normal course. Guess we best get ready.”
“Ready for what?” Charles asked.
“A big blow me lad, a big blow.
“Storm coming captain,” Palmer yelled.
Those on deck spoke in hushed tones as the light of day turned to the darkness of night and the waves rose so high that they looked like green mountains of white water spread across the horizon.
“Are those the sea gods?” Esben asked.
“You can bet they are mates. Now you best get below and let me and these scallywags tend to business.”
Then the rain began to fall; softly at first. Then the winds picked up and the clouds grew darker and the rain was heavy and constant with heavy head swells. When the ship reached the wind’s eye she refused to go farther as the sudden change blew the sails against their masts. With all her sails aback she slowly forged astern. Back to that fearful maelstrom that waited to receive what appeared to be the doomed ship.
“Away aloft. Shorten topsail! Bring in sail fore and aft,” the captain yelled.
Sailors jumped and scurried up the rat lines and into the rigging, rolling up canvas and manning the ropes to haul in the yards so there was less sail for the winds to catch.
The winds climbed to a terrific gale force and started to take on heavy water, sweeping barrels and debris from the decks, carrying away everything that wasn’t secured including a steward and one passenger. The captain was almost washed over as well, but fortunately he succeeded in grabbing a rope and secured it around his waist saving himself from sure death.
Every minute the storm was strengthening and moaning through the rigging. The wind was screaming as if all the demons of the sea were loosed upon them and the sky was black as night. A frothing mass of white breaking water was whipped across the forecastle. The deck rose and fell as they mounted one wave after another.
Overwhelmed by the elements and paralyzing terror, Esben and Charles clung to the cordage on their bunks, unable to do anything.
The men aloft clung to the yard-arm and pointed to a long black bank looming on the horizon, like a great mass of land where no land should be.
“Topmen, shorten sail. You men bring in the yards,” the captain cried. The wind snatched his words and cast them out to sea making them meaningless to the men around him.
The ship rolled and pitched and the captain ordered the aft hatch opening on deck closed and covered with canvas. The crew struggled up to the forward companion on the leeside where a safety rope had been stretched. Clinging to the rope, they staggered to shelter under the hurricane deck where they clung for dear life, while the ship lurched to the point of dipping her rail.
The ship rode the waves and wind like a horse. She bucked and plunged as she fought the heavy waters. She was struck from starboard by a tremendous wave which sent her yawing sideways, as if struck by a giant hand. Men were sprawled on the deck exhausted. The timbers creaked and strained and dishes and cargo were being thrown from one side of the ship to the other. Above the noise of the wind the clanging of the bells from the saloon and foredeck could be heard. The tin ware rattled and rolled and the coffee kettles hanging on the wall played a cacophony melody to the passengers trapped in the steerage. Some of the passengers trunks banged across the floor. They were strapping their children to their bunks before tying themselves as well. Children were crying and many people began to pray out loud. The storm struck with a force so strong that all those who weren’t strapped to their bunks could do was hold on to the nearest post and pray.
Suddenly a line broke and the sail was violently flapping around and it looked like it might bring the mast down through the ship’s deck. Sailors were shouting and started running a cross the deck. Finally one sailor, dressed in his foul weather gear, removed his rigger’s knife placing it between his teeth he climbed aloft. While clinging to the mast, he quickly cut the rigging lines that held the flapping sail saving the mast with that one quick cut.
Later that evening the rudder head twisted off, leaving the ship helpless. The ship lurched in the waves and the rough seas swept everything forward of the foremast overboard including both forward boats. The cutwater was lost clear down to the keel, the forward part of the ship which breaks the current allowing the ship to go forward. The ship started to leak forward, causing the passengers to panic as there appeared to be no way of saving a single person on board.
The heavy seas rose above the topmast, but the excellent sailing qualities of the ship and the extraordinary efforts of the captain and his crew, quelled the anxiety of the passengers.
“Don’t panic people. We have ridden out worse storms than this,” Captain Haukelid cried over the howling winds.
“We need all the men to help us man the donkey pumps to keep the ship from taking on too much water. Donkey pumps were auxiliary pumps that were kept on board for use in case of such emergencies as they were currently experiencing. You ladies grab some buckets and go below and get the water out of the steerage. You can throw it out the porthole. We will come through this storm alright,” the first mate cried.
One by one seasickness picked its victims. There were sounds of groaning and retching from below. The ship was dipping her lee rail and an occasional wave sent water splashing over the passenger’s feet and ankles.
It was a night to remember as all the passengers were huddled in steerage, grasping on the edge of their berths and held on to avoid being pitched out. Many couldn’t help but retching over the side of their berths, creating a terrible stench that filled the steerage. A steward came down and sprinkled chloride of lime and told the passengers that it would help with the bad air.
In the morning the wind had subsided although the skies were still dark and ominous. By ten o’clock the engineer reported the steam pipe cracked badly and he had to work the engine by hand. The rest of the crew was busy making a temporary rig of chains and tack to repair the tiller and by noon they had a temporary rudder to steer the ship.
Sheets and pillows were stuffed in the holes where the cutwater received damage. They also took a sail and lowered it over the bow with grate bars to sink it and fettered to keep the water out. That and the use of the donkey pumps and regular pumps reduced the leaking considerably.
The captain made an announcement later that day. “Ladies and gentlemen, with all your help, we should make it to port safely within a week. Ten days at most.
Once the seas had calmed and the storms broke and the leaking controlled, the captain took out his medical kit. “Any of you ladies have your sewing kit?” He asked.
Mrs. Lindberg raised her hand. “I do.”
“So do I”, Corinne Hjerstedt said.
“Good. You don’t have queasy stomachs, do you?”
“I don’t think so,” they both replied.
“That is well then. Bring it forward. Mr. Johns had his thumb torn off plus his face and head received some bad wounds.
One of the stewards and the ladies worked all day with the captain tending to the wounded. The captain was no doctor so he had to refer to his medical book often.
The sailors had slashed arms and legs. Some had cuts on their faces and heads. Mrs. Lindberg, who assisted the captain and steward close the gaping wound left by the amputation of Mr. Johns thumb, used her sewing needle from her mending kit to sew up a sailor’s leg that received a terrible gash as well while Corinne assisted in applying bandages to wounds of those not so severely injured. The steward gave a good portion of whiskey to all hands to help them forget the pain they were suffering.
Once the storm had passed, Esben and Charles walked the top deck to watch the crew as they worked. After the terrible storm, many of the ships sails were torn. The sailors climbed up the rigging and pulled down ripped sails. Mr. Palmer, the ship’s sailmaker, sat on deck with his mending kit, which included his palm like thimble and needle and thread. Esben and Charles sat down beside Mr. Palmer and watched him as he pushed the needle through the many layers of canvas using the palm.
“What happened to the birds of passage Mr. Palmer?” Esben asked.
“Darned if I know. ‘Spect I’ll meet ‘em on the voyage back.”
Esben and Charles watched four ships filled with immigrants arrive since early morning, bringing the number of weary and disconsolate immigrants to over one thousand that sat despondently on wooden benches next to them on the dock waiting for the night trains to head west for the final leg of their long journey.