On the bridge, Third Officer Colin Porteous felt the ship reel violently to starboard when the torpedo struck, before staggering slowly back, settling by the stern with a slight list to port. Instinctively, he rang the telegraph to stop the engines and slammed down the control, closing the watertight doors. Shortly after, while Porteous was sounding the emergency stations alarm, Captain Cook arrived, taking command of his doomed ship. After verifying that all watertight doors were closed, Chief Radio Officer Don was instructed to send emergency signals in plain language. A limited number of ships were in the vicinity, reacting to Athenia’s distress signal. The first acknowledgement came from the Norwegian freighter Knute Nelson. She was some 40 miles away and estimated to arrive within three hours. Later, the Swedish yacht Southern Cross also answered, as well as the American City of Flint. These were further away, though, and would take longer to arrive.10
Athenia sinking. (Author’s collection)
Chief Officer Barnet Copland raced aft to find out what had happened and the extent of the damage. The water was high in No. 5 hold, rising fast in No. 6, and the edge of the poop deck was awash. Athenia was inevitably going down, but Copland assessed it would take some time and it should be possible to get the boats away, saving most of those not already dead. Captain Cook decided to abandon ship, and ordered his crew to the boat stations.11 Most remained disciplined, seeing to it that the boats were set to sea in an organised manner, contributing to the relatively low loss of life. Within half an hour, more than half of the survivors were off the liner. Due to the list, the boats to port went down easily, while those to starboard scraped down the side with some difficulty. Still, they all reached the water.
‘Women and children first!’ was the convention of the day and this was strictly observed, giving a disproportionate number of women and children on board the early boats. For reasons difficult to appreciate today, many young children, some even toddlers, were separated from their parents and put into the nearest boat about to be lowered. This resulted in numerous scenes of anguish and added despair through the days to come. During the early confusion, some of the first boats were lowered before they were full, passengers later having to climb down ladders or lifelines before they cast off. During this, some fell into the oily sea, a few to drown, the majority to be pulled into a boat, shocked and miserable.
Light was fading quickly and in order to facilitate the lowering of the boats, Captain Cook instructed Chief Electrician Bennett to get the emergency dynamo working and, less than ten minutes after the torpedo had struck, a searchlight on the bridge as well as arc lights in the mastheads illuminated the decks of the liner. All twenty-six lifeboats got safely away. Some stayed close, others drifted into the darkness. Most of the passengers succumbed to seasickness or slumped into a misery of indifference for the rest of the night.
The last of the lifeboats, No. 7A, cast off at around 21:30. By this time, the list of Athenia had increased to about twelve degrees. Those remaining on board, Cook, Copland and a dozen of the crew and passengers, gathered on the foredeck. By 23:00, Cook decided it was time for them to go, and No. 5 motor boat was called back after having made room by transferring a number of those initially embarked on it to other boats that were less crowded. Before he left his office, Radio Operator Don locked the transmission key so that it sent a steady signal for the approaching ships to home in on. In London, the Admiralty received a signal from Malin Head coast guard radio at 22:30, informing briefly that Athenia was sending SSS signals, signifying she was under attack by a U-boat. Some twenty-five minutes later, another signal confirmed that she was sinking and had 1,400 persons on board. Urgent messages were forwarded to all naval units in the area with orders to assist.12
The sinking Athenia seen from Knute Nelson. (Author’s collection)
Knute Nelson arrived at around midnight. Master Carl Johan Anderssen could see flares lit in several of the lifeboats as he approached and observed that they were quite full. His ship was in ballast and riding high in the water, so it would be a challenge to get the survivors safely on board. There was no time to lose and the Norwegian freighter hove-to, turning her side athwart the weather to make shelter for the lifeboats behind her hull. To keep her in this position, Captain Anderssen kept the two propellers turning slowly, giving his ship a slight headway. One of the first lifeboats to come alongside was No. 5, the motor boat carrying Captain Cook and Third Officer Porteous.13 An undoubtedly relieved Cook climbed on board and was immediately invited to the bridge by Captain Anderssen to tell him what had happened and to provide assistance with the rescue operation. Other lifeboats approached, being rowed by whoever could hold an oar. Rope ladders were thrown over the side and a bosun’s chair was rigged to hoist those who could not climb themselves. One by one the survivors were brought to safety.
One boat approaching Knute Nelson was the overcrowded No. 5A. She had some way to row and those manning the oars were largely passengers, so progress was slow. At 04:00, when she was finally nearing the freighter, several empty boats were tied to the railings and boat No. 12 was still being emptied. The Norwegian crew shouted and motioned for them to stay out and wait their turn. But No. 5A lifeboat, which carried around ninety persons, largely women and children, ended up astern of boat No. 12, very close to the blades of the slowly turning propellers, with tops extended out of the water. Just then, a lookout on the bridge of Knute Nelson reported a lifeboat sinking ahead. Neither Captain Anderssen nor Captain Cook could see it, but when the report was repeated with some urgency, Captain Cook rang the engine telegraph for full ahead just in case. The freighter’s propellers reacted immediately, churning the water under the stern to white foam. Tragically, lifeboat No. 5A’s hawser became taut and snapped under the strain, the still-packed boat falling back into the now fast-revolving starboard propeller. In spite of frantic shouts from the deck to stop the engines, it was too late. The lifeboat was drawn into the propeller and cut to pieces. Those who were not killed instantly were flung into the water, drifting into the darkness as Knute Nelson drew away in spite of some Norwegian sailors sliding down the lifelines to rescue people in the water before it was too late. Eventually, fewer than a dozen of the people from lifeboat 5A were picked up, some after several hours of clinging to pieces of the wreckage.14
Two and a half hours after Knute Nelson, the Southern Cross arrived and started to take survivors on board, into her world of luxury. It must have been strange for the wet, cold and miserable rescuees to be welcomed on board the white, clean-scrubbed yacht, brilliantly lit, and offered hot drinks and warm clothes of every possible size and form. Unfortunately, an accident also occurred at Southern Cross. The elegant yacht rode gently in the Atlantic swell, but her small size made the stern come close to the water every time a wave rolled underneath her hull. No. 8 lifeboat ventured too close while waiting for her turn to be emptied and one particularly large swell sent the stern crashing down on her, throwing more than fifty persons, including many children, into the water. The Southern Cross did not have a large crew, but some of the sailors jumped into a couple of the empty lifeboats and managed to pick up around forty of the unfortunate men and women from No. 8 lifeboat. The Polish refugee Isaac Stotland and his wife were in one of the other boats waiting their turn while their two children, both under ten years of age, were onboard No. 8 lifeboat. Seeing the boat with their children being forced down, Stotland jumped into the water and swam towards the overturned wreckage. He pulled a dozen children to safety, but neither of his own was among them, both being lost.
Just before dawn, the two British destroyers Electra and Escort arrived.15 While the former started patrolling the area for U-boats, Escort picked up the survivors still in the water and thereafter those in the boats, including those clinging to the remains of No. 5A lifeboat. Later, when the destroyer Fame also arrived, she took over the search while Electra