EVERY SHIP ITS OWN LIFEBOAT
Say what we will, it cannot be denied that the lifeboat is a makeshift.
The long white line of boats, conspicuous on each side of the upper
deck of a large passenger ship, is, in a certain sense, a confession of
failure--an admission on the part of the shipbuilder that, in spite of
all that he has done in making travel by sea fast and comfortable, he
has not yet succeeded in making it safe.
Progress in shipbuilding and especially in the construction of fast and
luxuriously appointed ships has been simply phenomenal, particularly
during the past two decades. There is no art in the whole field of
engineering that has made such rapid and astonishing strides; and it
is not stretching the point too far to assert that man's mastery of the
ocean is the greatest engineering triumph of all time.
The fury of the elements, as shown in a heavy storm at sea, has always
been regarded as one of the most majestic and terrifying exhibitions
of the forces of nature. When the sailing packet was struck by the full
fury of a gale, the skipper lay to, thankful if he could survive
the racket, without carrying away boats, bulwarks, and deck gear.
Frequently, with canvas blown out of the bolt ropes, he was obliged to
run under bare poles, at the imminent risk of being swamped under the
weight of some following sea. For many a decade, even in the era of the
steamship, it was necessary, when heading into a heavy sea, to slow down
the engines, maintaining only sufficient speed to give steerage
way. To-day, so great are the weight and engine power that the giant
steamship, if the captain is willing to risk some minor mishaps to her
upper works, may be driven resistlessly along the appointed lines of
travel regardless of wind and sea. So far as the loss of the ship from
heavy weather is concerned, man has obtained complete mastery of the
ocean.
[Illustration: This ship, with 34 compartments below a water-tight steel
deck, would serve as its own lifeboat in the event of collision.
THE 44,000-TON, 25½-KNOT LUSITANIA]
The writer well remembers a trip to the westward on one of the
subsidised mail steamers, built to naval requirements, which was made at
a time when the ship was striving to accomplish the average speed of 24½
knots for the round trip from England to America, which was necessary
before she could claim the government subsidy. In the run to the
eastward, the ship had averaged for the whole passage 25 knots;
therefore to win the coveted prize, it was necessary, on the return
passage to New York, to maintain an average of 24 knots. As it happened,
two hours out from Queenstown it began to blow hard from the southwest,
and for the next four days the wind, veering from southwest to
northwest, never fell below the strength of half a gale. On the fourth
day out the wind rose to full cyclonic force, and against the most
tempestuous weather that the North Atlantic can show, the ship was
driven for twenty-four hours into what the captain's log-book designated
as "enormous head seas." She averaged a speed of 23 knots for the whole
four days of heavy weather, and came through the ordeal without
starting a single rivet, or showing any signs of undue strain in her
roughly-handled hull.
The large and powerful passenger steamer of to-day is proof against
fatal damage due to wind and sea. True it is that these ships
occasionally reach New York after a stormy passage, with porthole
glasses broken, windows smashed, and rails and other light fittings
carried away; but these are minor damages which in no way affect the
integrity of the ship as a whole.
If, then, the shipbuilder has made such wonderful strides in the
strength of his construction and in the development of engine power,
is it not a strange anomaly that he should have so far failed in his
attempt to provide against sinking through collision, as to be under
the necessity of advertising the fact, by crowding the topmost deck with
appliances for saving the lives of the passengers when the ship goes
down?
But it will be objected that, even if the ship were made so far
unsinkable that she might act as her own lifeboat, there would yet
remain the risk of her destruction by fire, and that, if a fierce
conflagration occurred, the passengers would have to abandon ship and
take to the boats. The objection is well made, and if it be possible to
introduce structural features which will render ships both fireproof and
unsinkable, the thing should be done.
It is sincerely to be hoped that one outcome of the present world-wide
interest in the subject of safety at sea, will be a searching
investigation of the whole question of fire protection. In some of
the first-class passenger ships, notably those of the leading German
companies, the subject has been given the attention which it merits; but
there is no doubt that a large majority of the vessels engaged in the
passenger-carrying trade contain no fire protection of a structural
nature; that is to say, the spaces reserved for passenger accommodations
are not laid out with any view to limiting the ravages of fire. On most
of these ships a fire which once obtained strong headway might sweep
through the decks devoted to passenger accommodations, without meeting
with any fireproof wall to stay its progress.
Now the most effective protection against a conflagration on board ship
is to apply the same method of localisation which is used to such good
effect in limiting the inflow of water resulting from collision. The
steel bulkhead and the steel deck, acting as fire screens, may be made
as effective in limiting the area of a fire as they are in limiting the
area of flooding.
The passenger decks should be intersected at frequent intervals by steel
bulkheads, extending from side to side of the ship and carried up to
include the topmost tier of staterooms. Where the alleyways intersect
the bulkheads, fireproof doors would afford all the necessary means of
communication. The provision of many such bulkheads, coupled with the
installation of an ample fire-main service and the faithful practice
of fire-drills, would render the loss of a ship by fire practically
impossible.
The pathetic reluctance of her passengers to leave the _Titanic_ for the
lifeboats was justified, surely, by the seeming security of the one and
frailty of the other. Perfectly natural was their belief that the mighty
ship would survive, at least until the rescuing steamers should reach
her vicinity and render the transfer of passengers a safe operation.
Did not the _Republic_ remain afloat for many hours after a collision
scarcely less terrible than this, and was not the _Titanic_ twice her
size and, therefore, good as a lifeboat for many an hour to come?
[Illustration: PROVISIONING THE BOATS DURING A BOAT DRILL]
[Illustration: Courtesy of _Scientific American_
LOADING AND LOWERING BOATS, STOWED ATHWARTSHIPS]
In considering the excellent service rendered by the lifeboats of
the _Republic_ and the _Titanic_, it should be borne in mind that the
weather conditions happened to be very favourable. The launching of
lifeboats in rough weather is a difficult and perilous operation.
Frequently the sinking ship will have a heavy list; if she lists to
starboard, the boats on that side can be launched well clear of the
ship, but the boats on the port or higher side cannot be so launched.
As they are lowered, they will come in contact with the side of the ship
and be damaged or capsized. Furthermore, should the ship be rolling,
the boats are liable to be swung violently against the vessel and their
sides may be crushed in or heavily strained, rendering them unseaworthy.
Had a heavy sea, nay, even a moderate sea, been running at the time of
the _Titanic_ disaster, how long would her heavily loaded boats have
survived in water that was infested with ice floes? Their helplessness
will be more evident when we remember that they weighed between one and
two tons, and that when they were loaded down with sixty-five people,
the total weight must have been about six tons. Now a craft of six
tons' displacement requires considerable handling, and the two or three
sailors allotted to each boat, jammed in, as they were, among crowded
passengers, would have been powerless in heavy weather to keep the boat
from broaching broadside to the sea and capsizing.
The demand, then, for unsinkable ships is justified by the fact that the
lifeboat is at best but a poor makeshift--that to put several thousand
people adrift in mid-ocean is to expose them to the risk of ultimate
death by starvation or drowning.
[Illustration: Courtesy of _Scientific American_
BOAT DECK OF TITANIC, SHOWING, IN BLACK, PLAN FOR STOWING EXTRA BOATS,
TO BRING TOTAL ACCOMMODATIONS UP TO 3,100 PERSONS]
However, in view of the fact that ninety-five passenger ships out
of every hundred are built with the single skin, low bulkheads, and
non-watertight decks, which characterised the _Titanic_, it is certain
that the cry: "A lifeboat seat for every passenger" is fully justified.
The problem of housing the large number that would be required presents
no insuperable difficulties, and there are several alternative plans on
which the boats might be disposed. On page 45 will be found a proposed
arrangement, reproduced by the courtesy of the "Scientific American,"
which shows in white the twenty boats actually carried by the _Titanic_,
and in black the additional boats which would be necessary to increase
the total accommodation to about 3,100 people. This plan would
necessitate the sacrifice of some of the deck-house structures. Between
each pair of smoke-stacks two lines of four boats each are stowed
athwartships. The boat chocks are provided with gunmetal wheels, which
run in transverse tracks sunk in the deck. Along each side of the
boat-deck there is a continuous line of boats.
[Illustration: Courtesy of _Scientific American_
THE ELABORATE INSTALLATION OF TELEGRAPHS, TELEPHONES, VOICE-TUBES, ETC.,
ON THE BRIDGE OF AN OCEAN LINER]
Another plan would be to take advantage of the full capacity of the
Welin davit with which the _Titanic_ was equipped, which is capable of
handling two or even three boats stowed abreast. Three lines of boats
carried on each side of the long boat-deck of a modern liner would
provide ample accommodation for every person on board.
But we repeat--and the point cannot be too strongly urged--that
however complete the lifeboat accommodation may be, it is at the best a
makeshift.
The demand that every ship that is launched in the future shall be
so far unsinkable as to serve as its own lifeboat in case of serious
disaster is perfectly reasonable; for there are certain first-class
transatlantic liners in service to-day--notably in certain leading
English and German lines--which fulfil this condition. Considerations
both of humanity and self-interest should lead to the adoption of
similar principles of construction by every passenger steamship company.
It is possible that the time will come, and it may indeed be very close
at hand, when the most attractive page in the illustrated steamship
pamphlet will be one containing plans of the ships, in which the
safeguards against sinking--such as side bunkers, high bulkheads, and
watertight decks--are clearly delineated.