Then there are stories of unin- tended voyages, including one about a leading steamship official, who follow- ing a jolly midnight supper, went down to the pier to inspect some unloading machinery, only to forget all about the purpose of his visit once he arrived. Climbing aboard in his evening clothes and recognized by the purser, he insisted that all he wanted was sleep and lots of it. The ship’s officer was confident that the big man of the line had no idea of going abroad, but was unable to get him into a state of more than half consciousness. The New York Times, relating the incident in some detail, said, “he was a huge man who weighed more than 300 pounds and when he slept he slumbered all over. He had an aston- ishing big head when he finally came to, long after the steamship had passed Sandy Hook, and wanted to know who had shanghaied him.” Many others went abroad against their wishes and intentions. Often they were tricked into it by their own friends and relatives who de- sired to get them away from busi- ness for a rest. Usually these affairs ended happily, also, for once the victims became reconciled to the fact that the affairs of their respective companies would probably go on just the same—at least for awhile—they set about to enjoy themselves. Then there were those who had every intention of going abroad but tried to keep their plans a_ secret from steamship officials. These, of course, were the well-known stow- aways. Perhaps the most wholesale movement of this kind recorded in the four volumes occurred in 1909 when the CEpRIC, enroute to New York from the Mediterranean, dis- covered 28 stowaways. ‘The weather, it seems, got rough and stowaways began to turn up in unexpected places in all parts of the vessel. Christmas day brought a special dinner in the steerage as well as in the cabin; also the yuletide spirit of forgiveness. So the unwelcome passengers were in- vited to participate in the feast, which all those in any condition at all did with gusto and much abandon, it is recorded. In September, 1904 New York City greeted the arrival of the new 20,718-ton transpacific liner MINNE- soTA, the largest ship built in this country up to that time. Constructed at New London, Conn., she was on her way around the Horn for ser- vice between Seattle and Yokahama. She was said to be only exceeded in size by three other steamships in the world, the CEDRIC, BALTIC, and CELTIC. SR Aa TH AMET BE S98 From the Philadelphia North American, Feb. 25, 1903 The development of wireless teleg- raphy may be traced by various clippings relating mostly to new records. The first shipboard wire- less was installed on St. LOvIS in November, 1899, and while progress for considerable time was_ slow, it was sure. In 1902, the PHILADEL- PHIA announced the record reception of 150 miles. Radio, however, never came in for greater acclaim than it did seven years later upon the occasion of the sinking of the RePUBLIC, off Nan- tucket late in January, 1909. Wire- less was given the principal credit for the saving of many hundreds of lives, and the story of Jack Binns, the operator, constituted one of the brightest spots in the annals of all marine history. The New York Times, Jan. 26, 1909, carried in part the following: “Three sides of the wireless room had been carried away when the REPUBLIC was rammed by the FLORIDA, but there sat Binns, exposed to the weather, his MARINE REVIEW—July, 1928 hands so stiff from cold that it was with difficulty that he could hold the key of his. instrument... .‘.- The ship was filling fast. Batteries were needed, and Binns, realizing that all hopes of bringing help lay in his messages, went to a storage room where he had to dive into a water filled compartment and swim and wade around until he found them.” All day and far into the night, so the account continues, Binns re- mained at his key before he re- membered that he was working in clothes soaking wet and that he was badly in need of nourishment. Many are the other deeds of heroism recorded in these volumes. There is Capt. George C. Apfeld, of the sink- ing WAESLAND, who sacrificed his life’s savings of $10,000, badly needed for an invalid wife, rather than leave his bridge for a single second. There is the first assistant engineer, John Anderson, of the ST. PAUL, who with his life in his hands, worked (Continued on Page 108) 39