Ship of Dreams (26 page)

She glanced over to where Addie and Ansel sat together, hands clasped and heads bowed in prayer, and nodded. "I feared as much. But let's say nothing to the others—not yet. Allow them to hope while they may."

He gave her a hug, though his arms were still heavy with fatigue. "Have I told you today that I love you?"

Della grinned at him, but before she could reply, a shout came from the stairway. "More men! We need every man available to bail out the engine room!"

With a sigh, Kent rose. It appeared his conjecture was all too accurate.

Even as he ascended the stairs again to resume his place on deck, he saw bright trails of fire in the sky. The captain must have ordered the distress rockets launched, in hopes that another ship might see them and come to the aid of the
Central America
. Kent knew that the women below had likely seen the rockets through the skylights or windows of the saloon, and momentarily wished he could be down there to offer Della additional comfort.

But no, she was strong—stronger than he, in many ways. She would be one of those offering comfort right now, not receiving it. The thought bolstered his courage and his strength as he stepped forward to take the next bucket—actually a fancy porcelain pitcher—coming along the line.

*
           
*
           
*

Through the window at the end of the saloon, Della watched the fiery trail sputter out against the waves. "A distress rocket, of course," she said calmly, in response to the questions going up on all sides. Over the past several hours, she had become a leader of sorts—one the others looked to for answers and encouragement.

"Now that it is dark," she continued, "there's a very good chance another ship will see it, and come to our aid. Then, even if the men can't ultimately keep us from sinking, we should all be rescued to continue aboard another vessel."

Nods and general murmurs of agreement greeted this piece of reasoning, to her relief. Privately, she rather doubted anything could be seen for more than a mile or two in the raging storm. Nor did she have great confidence that another ship would be able to reach them under these conditions of wind and wave, even if they were spotted. Still, it was something to hope for, and hope was all they had right now.

As the night wore on, the children fell asleep, exhausted by fear and the storm—and by lack of food, as the kitchens had sent nothing up since noon except some dry bread and water. Rumor held that the storerooms had been swamped. Occasionally the men would return, singly or in pairs, for a few minutes of rest before resuming their labors.

Each time she saw Kent, he looked more exhausted, more hopeless—as did the other men. Though the women had insisted on giving the men the lion's share of their scanty bread and water, it was by no means enough to sustain the energy they were expending. At about nine o'clock, watching Kent and Ansel heading wearily back to their places after only the briefest break, Della came to a decision.

"The children don't need us now, as they're nearly all asleep. I'm going to help bail."

Addie stood up beside her. "So will I. You're perfectly right, Della. Virginia?"

"Of course," Virginia replied, rising a bit shakily.

Together, the three women made their way to the nearest bailing line—away from the one their own husbands occupied. Comparative strangers, they hoped, might be more willing to let them help.

"Come, take a rest. I'll take over for a few moments," said Della, laying her hand on the sleeve of a man in his sixties, who looked ready to drop. Addie similarly accosted a boy in his late teens, while Virginia tried to take a pail from another man.

All three men paused for a moment, apparently in confusion, but then, almost in unison, shook their heads. "Thank ye for offerin,' missie, but we can't have that," said the older man gruffly. The others, all up and down the line, agreed.

"But it's our lives we'd work to save as well," Della argued. "If we can make a difference, surely you would let us?"

The men, however, were adamant. With renewed vigor, they passed their sloshing vessels along, resolutely ignoring the women's pleas. Sighing in frustration, Della motioned the others to follow her to one of the other bailing teams, out of sight of the first. But they met with the same resistance there, and again at yet a third bailing line.

"Chivalry indeed," Della muttered as the three women resumed their places in the saloon. "Stupidity, more like. If sheer stubbornness can save this ship, we shall all be fine."

That forced a chuckle from the others. "They really are behaving most heroically," Addie commented, "though I do wish they would let us help. Most of those men don't even have wives or children aboard, yet they work just as hard as the others."

"They may well work themselves to death, whether we sink or not," Della replied sourly. "No one can keep on like that indefinitely, particularly with no food and little water."

Addie blinked at her. "Oh! Oh, my goodness!"

"What?"

"I've only just remembered! Our hampers—wedding gifts—in our cabin. Most are filled with crackers, cheese, wine, and other edibles. I'd completely forgotten about them!"

Della looked across the saloon toward the Easton's cabin. "Do you think they're still dry?"

"Let's go see." The three women rose again and hurried between the tables to the door of the stateroom. Addie opened the door, and they were relieved to discover the cabin tumbled but dry, the hampers she'd mentioned lying along one wall.

Gleefully, Addie plunged into one after another, unearthing more than a dozen bottles of wine, numerous tins of biscuits and crackers, wax-wrapped cheeses, and other delicacies. Della took the corkscrew Addie produced from one hamper and opened three of the wine bottles, while Virginia cut up one of the cheeses with a knife.

"Let's each take a bottle," Della suggested, "along with some crackers and cheese, and go down the bailing lines, handing it out. Once it's gone, we'll come back here for more."

This sort of help the men were more than happy to receive from the women, they discovered a few moments later. The wine bottles were passed along the line between the bailing buckets, each man taking a swig to wash down his mouthful of cheese and cracker. With a heartiness surprising in such tired men, they thanked the women, dubbing them blessed angels of mercy.

"Somehow I knew you'd find yet another way to help," said Kent when Della brought him his portion.

"I still think you should let us bail, but at least this will give you all a bit more strength," she said, leaning in to give him a quick kiss on his stubbly cheek. Despite the gravity of the situation, she could not help thinking the day's growth of beard gave him a dashing, heroic look.

"More than you know," he agreed, turning to seize the next ewer of seawater from the man behind him.

"Addie really gets the credit for this." Della spoke loudly enough for Ansel, just ahead of Kent, to hear her. "She remembered the hampers, and had no hesitation in offering every bit of the contents to the men."

Ansel grinned at this praise of his young wife. "A courageous, generous spirit Addie has," he declared.

"She does indeed," Della agreed, turning back to replenish her supply of victuals.

Kent stopped her with an urgent hand on her arm. She looked up at him with a surprised frown, but before she could ask what he wanted, he kissed her, firmly and fiercely, on the lips. "And so do you," he murmured. He had to release her then, to pass back an empty bucket, but his words and look bolstered her with a warm glow as she headed back down to the saloon for more wine and cheese.

Over the next few hours, hope alternately grew and then waned in the faces of the passengers, male and female. Though the distribution of wine and cheese had given the men heart for awhile, it was consumed all too quickly. Full as those hampers had been, it was still scanty rations for nearly five hundred men. Della suspected they were as heartened by the gesture as by the wine itself.

Even so, there were several men who refused to work at all. Francis Cadbury had joined a bailing crew at first, but Della had seen him retire to his cabin even before the first break, many hours earlier, and he had not reappeared. She rather suspected he had his own stash of spirits, and by now had drowned his fears in them. Nor was he the only one. Despair, in some cases assisted by drink, had induced several men to slink away and work no more.

More than ever, Della wished the women might be allowed to help bail. But barring that, she was determined to assist the men by keeping their spirits up. Once the food from the hampers was exhausted, she gathered all available women—those without sleeping children in their arms—around her.

"We can't just sit here and do nothing," she said, to general agreement. "If we can't bail, we must do what we can to encourage the men. You saw how affected they were by Mrs. Easton's generous gift. Let's all go up and down the lines, offering our support, as well as what water is left."

At least a dozen women rose at once, clearly eager for a chance to do something—anything—to distract themselves from the ghastly waiting. As night crept toward dawn, Captain Herndon added his encouragements to theirs.

"Just a few more hours of work, and we may all be saved," he shouted. "I feel in my bones this storm will drop with daylight, making rescue likely, if we can but keep her afloat."

Taking their cue from the captain, the women kept the men apprised of the time and weather. "Only an hour till dawn!" they cried. "The wind is lessening—can you hear it?"

And indeed, as gray daylight penetrated the clouds, the storm really did seem to be lessening, the sea and wind less fierce. The men drew on unsuspected reserves to bail with renewed vigor.

"The captain was right!" Della exclaimed to Kent, pausing in her endless trips up and down the bailing lines. "The storm is blowing itself out. He says that if we can only bail till noon, the ship may yet be saved."

Kent gave her a weary smile. His sweat-soaked shirt flew about him in the wind, occasionally revealing knotted muscles hardened by his night's work. Della thought he'd never looked more handsome.

But then he shook his head. "The people, perhaps, but not the ship." At her questioning look, he continued. "Think—there are tons and tons of iron in her belly, and the engines covered in water. The
Central America
is doomed."

"But—"

"But we do have a fighting chance," he continued, passing along yet another bucket. "With daylight, there's a good possibility of rescue. These are busy shipping lanes. If the storm abates enough for visibility, another ship may well come to our aid."

"Then every bucketful extends our hope," said Della, wishing for the hundredth time that she could help bail. "Is there no way to get the water up more quickly? Perhaps some sort of pulley system, such as I've seen used in the mines?"

Kent shook his head, but then frowned. "Actually, something like that just might work. You there! Murray! Take my place for a moment while I go speak with the captain."

Della followed, wondering exactly what he would suggest. They found the captain on the weather deck, directing a crewman to hoist the Stars and Stripes—upside down.

"A distress signal," he explained, turning to face them as the flag flew aloft. "With daylight, a ship keeping a sharp watch with a glass may well see it and come to our aid."

The fact that both Kent and the captain said the same thing encouraged Della mightily—as did the lessening wind. Remembering their errand, she nudged Kent.

"Captain Herndon, I've an idea to put to you," he said quickly, at her reminder. "Might we be able to bail out the hold more efficiently by rigging barrels on some sort of pulley? Perhaps we could adapt the winches I saw used for bringing trunks and crates aboard in Aspinwall and Havana."

The captain was already nodding. "One of the engineers suggested something similar. I'll put the crew on it at once. You're right, Bradford, that we must find a way to bring the water up faster." At once he turned to shout new orders to the nearest crewmen.

Kent did not wait to see the results of Della's idea, but returned to the bailing line. Della, however, watched with interest as a wheel and ropes from the mizzen stay were fixed in place above first one aft hatch, then another. The men not already working in a bailing line were organized, some to fill the barrels at the bottom and others to heave them over the rail topside.

In an hour, half a dozen such pulleys were working over both the fore and aft hatches. Water by the barrelful was emptied back into the sea, then the barrels lowered again to the ship's bowels for another load. By nine o'clock, a report came up from below that they were gaining on the water.

Not only Della's, but nearly every heart aboard was buoyed by the news. Yet again she and several other women petitioned to be allowed to help bail, and again they were repulsed, but the men seemed to have gained a second wind now, cheered by the news of the receding water and by the patches of blue beginning to peek between the clouds above.

Going back to refill her pitcher with fresh water to distribute to the men, Della had paused near the wheelhouse when she heard the chief engineer speaking urgently to the captain.