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- Was 28 MARINE REVIEW AND MARINE RECORD. ENTOMBED IN A CAPSIZED SHIP. Possibly no apologies are necessary for publishing in a paper devoted to the industrial and commercial side of shipping the following remarkable story of a ship master entombed in a cap- sized ship. It will certainly be of great interest to all ship mas- ters, for perilous as have been the positions of many of them at various times in their career, there is doubtless not one who has had to undergo an experience of such complicated horror. The story is reprinted from the World Wide Magazine and is related by Mr. Frank S. N. Dunsby of the Seamen's Institute, Neufahrwasser, Germany. Mr. Dunsby relates the strange ad- venture as follows: : Capt. Hans Engellandt is a young married man of 31, with two children. He is skipper and owner of the Erndte, a new steel "galliot,' or sloop, of some eighty odd tons. The Erndte left Memel on April 16 last with a cargo of timber for Bremen. Capt. Engellandt was in command, and his crew consisted of a mate--his brother-in-law--and two men. It was blowing hard when the voyage began, but nevertheless the captain held on, hoping to make a quick passage, the wind being favorable. About midday, however, the weather changed for the worse. The wind steadily increased and icy showers of rain and snow fell fre- quently. Deeply laden as she was, and carrying a heavy deck load, some 3 or 4 ft. high, the galliot labored badly in the rising sea, and accordingly sail had to be shortened. By 7 o'clock in the evening a full gale was blowing, with a heavy sea; but the vessel, being now under a treble-reefed mainsail, did not ship any water. By midnight, however, the gale had become a verita+ ble hurricane, and the little galliot drove ahead swiftly before the roaring wind and following sea. This state of affairs con- tinued until 5 a. m. on the morning of the 19th, when the ship had covered, according to the log, 120 miles. . During the whole of this time Capt. Engellandt had been at the wheel, steering his vessel through the storm and encouraging his little crew. Needless to say, he was wet through and thoroughly exhausted with his long vigil, and as there did not seem to be any imme- diate cause for anxiety he gladly relinquished the wheel to the mate while he went down to his cabin to put on some dry clothes and get a much-needed rest. He had only just completed the change--the operation being rendered somewhat difficult by the rolling and pitching of the galliot--when the vessel gave a tre- mendous lurch and threw him off his feet, hurling him with considerable violence into .a corner. On _ picking himself up Capt. Engellandt looked around in _ absolute bewilderment. What on earth had happened? And _ what 'aimiss 'with the. trim little. cabin?. Then. like a flash he realized that he was standing on the roof of the cabin and that the floor was above his head. With the recognition of this strange state of affairs came the knowledge of its cause. The ship had capsized--turned turtle--and was now floating keel up- -wards. And he was caged--caught underneath the ship like a 'rat in a trap. If further confirmation of this terrible fact were needed it was furnished by the bilge-water from the vessel's hold --now above the prisoner's head--which ran down the sides of the cabin towards what had been the roof. This was now being rapidly covered by water which rose from below. As to what had become of his crew, Engellandt could. only surmise that they must have been swept overboard and drowned when the furious squall turned his vessel over. Most men would have given way to utter despair upon finding themselves in such an awful posi- tion. Not so Capt. Engellandt. The first thing he did was to climb up as far as possible towards the vessel's keel, out of the way of the water, which now covered the cabin floor to'a depth of several feet. It got no deeper, however, and he came to the conclusion that the cargo of wood, taken in conjunction with the quantity of air imprisoned in the hull, would serve to keep the ship afloat--for some time, at least. He also. ascertained that the water rose higher up the ship's side outside than in the cabin. All this time the capsized 'ship was rolling in the heavy seas, and the water below the captain was washing about the cabin, carrying away everything movable. If he once fell into that Engellandt knew that he would soon be drowned or dashed to pieces against the ship's side, so he set about making a perch for himself as near the ship's keel as possible. A moment's thought showed him that, as his' ship was 11 ft. deep and the cabin about 7 ft. high, he had 4 ft. between him and the keel. By dint of a little work he was able to pull away some of the planking forming the floor of the cabin, and climb through into the narrow space between it and the ship's plates. Here--at all events for the present--he would be fairly safe from the water below. His next thought was concerning food. Was there any in the cabin, or were hunger and ultimate starvation to be added to the horrors of his plight? With feverish anxiety he searched about. The result was the discovery of about 3 lbs. of raisins, 3 lbs. of rice, a similar quantity of sugar--and a sausage. This little stock the prisoner at once conveyed to a place of safety, dividing it into portions and placing himself upon rations, for how long he might remain cooped up in that iron hull before rescue came or death claimed him he did not know. The food question being settled, it remained to devise some means by which he could make his plight known to passing ships. Here he was badly handicapped. A man alone on the deck of a derelict ship even if she be dismasted, can usually find some elevated point, if only his outstretched arms, from which he can suspend a sig- nal, while his Voice assists him to communicate with possible rescuers. But poor Engellandt's position was infinitely worse. He was inside the wreck--buried alive in the darksome vault was well aware the sound would not penetrate far. * sistent strokes. [Oct. 1 z formed by the ship's upturned hull--and his voice was effectually stifled in that confined space by the continual wash of the waters around and below him. Finally he managed to find a wooden mallet, and with this he struck heavily on the ship's iron plates, They gave forth a sharp metallic sound, which he hoped would be audible to some passing ship, but in his heart of hearts he : . : Prudent mariners, moreover, usually give capsized derelicts a wide berth --there is no good to be got from them, and much possible harm. And what sailor in his senses would dream that under that wal- lowing hulk, over which the seas broke continually, there was a human living being? Although he found a lamp and some matches, the prisoner did not light it. He knew perfectly wel] that the supply of air in the ship's hull must necessarily be small and that the lamp, once lighted, would speedily use up the oxy- gen, leaving him to suffocate. He was not, however, in absolute darkness. In some way the diffused light of day was reflected into his cabin through the water. It was a soft light--resembling that of the moon--but it enabled him to see perfectly. When the sun shone outside the weird light in his prison grew brighter, gradually ebbing away as darkness fell. Generally speaking, it was light from 6 a. m. till 6 p. m. During the long hours of daylight poor Engellandt worked unceasingly with his mallet, knocking continually on the ship's side. Was there ever such a -monotonous, heart-breaking task--fighting against death in that floating tomb, with no better weapon than a hammer? For all he knew he was tapping out his own death-knell in those per- What thoughts surged through his brain dur- ing those awful days! Thoughts of the wife and little ones at home, anxiously awaiting news of his ship's safe arrival in port --or possibly even now mourning him as dead, consequent on hearing news that a capsized galliot resembling his had been sighted. The probability of death in his floating prison he reso- lutely put from him, hoping continually for rescue--the rescue that was so long in coming. When night came he coiled himself up in some old sacks and a spare sail, which were stowed near the keel, and slept. He knew that at any moment, but especially at night, some ship might strike his all-but-submerged vessel and send him headlong to the bottom of the sea. Nothing that he could do, however, could avert such a contingency, and so this extraordinary man lay down calmly every night and en- deavored to sleep, dozing off at intervals, but rarely losing con- sciousness for more than an hour at a time. And so the days of his imprisonment passed by, each hour seeming to have feet of lead. He had no watch or clock, but he could tell by the light whether it was day or night, and he made notches on a beam to record the passage of the days. He had not, of course, any idea of the direction:in which the ship was drifting, but fan- cied it was S. S. E. The notches grew in number, the light came and went, the little store of food got smaller and smaller, and still there came no sign of rescue, no sound from the outer world. How would it all end? Would it be suffocation by the failure of the air supply, starvation when the food was exhausted or would the wreck sink witih him beneath the water and bring oblivion that way? Many a man would have gone raving mad under the awful strain, but this simple sailor-man still hoped for resctie, keeping up his tapping hour after hour and day after day, till the mallet was quite worn. | Once he thought the end was very near. It was evidently a bright sunshiny day outside, and the sun beating upon the ship's iron plates heated the air inside to such an extent that Engellandt was presently fighting for breath. He shifted his position lower down, near the water, but the air was scarcely better here, and it was with difficulty that he was able to breathe. It seemed as if everything was over. Then, just as he was about to give up the struggle, a gale arose, the sea be- came agitated, and with the rolling of the ship the air fresh- ened. He was able to breathe easily once more, and for the time being the situation was saved. Whenever the sea was rough the air inside the hull seemed to be renewed, and the dis- covery of this fact removed his anxiety about the air supply. By this time thirst was beginning to trouble him somewhat, for no water was included in his slender stock. He was never really hungry, cooped up in that iron box, but he would have given much for a drink. There below him was water--dark and green and cool and inviting--but that way lay madness and death. Reckoning up his stores he found he had at most three or four days' food left) And there were now twelve notches on_ the beam! For eleven days and nights he had existed in that float- ing tomb, drifting along through the seas. No doubt the sub- merged wreck had been sighted many times, but no one had thought it worth while to investigate. Would it be so to the end? Would help never come? If the worst came to the worst and his stores were exhausted, Engellandt made up his mind to die fighting. He would put a lifebelt he had in the cabin round his waist, dive down into the water below, and endeavor to open those tight-jammed cabin doors and so reach the open sea. It was a mad venture and almost certain of failure, but he might as well meet death that way as by starvation or thirst in his iron prison. It was Thursday, the 30th, and drawing to- wards evening. The light was slowly fading from the water, and all was still as the grave. Poor Engellandt, thinking it use- less to knock any more that day, had lain down on his sacks to sleep, when he suddenly started up, his pulse beating wildly. What was that sound? Was he going mad or were those foot- steps on the plates above his head? Jumping up, he seized his hammer and knocked furiously, frantically, on the ship's side. A moment's silence, and then--thank heaven!--there came an a r "Saas