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BOUND FOR FREEDOM
SS Charles Pratt.
Six months and a day after the James McGee struck a mine in Bristol Channel, the Panama Transport fleet suffered its third loss during 1940 when the Charles Pratt was sunk by an Axis submarine off the west coast of Africa.
Like the Joseph Seep and the McGee, the Pratt was one of the fifteen Esso ships transferred to the Panama flag within a few months after the outbreak of war in Europe.
In broad daylight, on December 21, 1940, the Charles Pratt, more than 15 days out of Aruba on her way to Freetown, Sierra Leone, was about a day's run from her destination when she was torpedoed and set on fire.
The U-boat's attack on the unarmed tanker flying a neutral flag was made without warning. The conditions for submarine operation were excellent; the weather was fine with unlimited visibility and no other vessel was in sight to endanger the sub if it surfaced. Although these favorable circumstances provided ample time to dispose of the ship, the U-boat did not give the tanker's crew an opportunity to seek safety in the lifeboats.
As to the nationality of the vessel there could be no doubt. The flag of the Republic of Panama was flying from her taffrail; she displayed the distinct tunnel mark "PT Co."; and the unmistakable quartered design of the Panamanian flag, with its bright contrasting colors and stars, was painted large on the ship's sides.
Two Men Lost.
Two members of the American crew of 42 officers and men lost their lives. The survival of as many as 40 of the ship's company was probably due to the captain's prompt decision to abandon the vessel. The steam smothering line had been cut and there was no hope of putting out the fire that was spreading rapidly along the damaged starboard side.
Only the port lifeboats were clear of the flames and dense smoke.
A few minutes after the boats left the burning tanker she was again hit by a torpedo which destroyed most of the starboard side of the midship house and tore another large hole in the hull, giving the vessel a heavy list. Strangely enough, the second explosion put out the fire, though by that time the oil flames had made a huge cloud of black smoke rising hundreds of feet high.
In a thorough search for three missing men, only one, the chief mate, was found.
Submarine Surfaced.
At nightfall, an effort was made to return to the ship to get medical supplies and determine whether the vessel would remain afloat. This attempt, continued by using a compass bearing after the ship could no longer be seen, had to be given up when the submarine was sighted directly ahead, its forward gun and conning tower rising above the surface.
The lifeboats turned back and as the men rowed away to escape observation, the U-boat switched on a searchlight.
With a feeling of suspense, the survivors of the Charles Pratt watched the beam of light sweeping over the sea, but it missed the lifeboats. Its piercing rays also failed to find the twice torpedoed ship.
The SS Charles Pratt was built in 1916 by the Newport News Shipbuilding and Dry Dock Company at Newport News, Va. She was a sistership of the H. H. Rogers (lost February 21, 1943), F. Q. Barstow, Wm. G. Warden, and Beacon.
A twin-screw vessel of 15,955 deadweight tons capacity on international summer draft of 28 feet, 6 1/3 inches, she had an overall length of 516 feet, 5 inches, a length between perpendiculars of 500 feet, a moulded breadth of 68 feet, and a depth moulded of 38 feet, 3 1/3 inches. With a cargo carrying capacity of 119,410 barrels, she had an assigned pumping rate of 4,000 barrels an hour. Her triple expansion engines, supplied with steam by three Scotch boilers, developed 3,000 indicated horsepower and gave her a speed of 9.5 knots.
When Germany attacked Poland, September 1, 1939, the then Esso tanker Charles Pratt, commanded by Captain Harold Griffiths, with her engines in charge of Chief Engineer Laurence B. Jones, had left Cari-pito August 28 with a cargo of 103,021 barrels of crude oil which she discharged at Halifax on September 6. After two more voyages she was sold while at Halifax to the Panama Transport Company on October 20, 1939. Her port log for that day includes the following entries:
"3:35 p.m.-Changed flags from Stars and Stripes of U. S. A. to flag of the Republic of Panama. "5 p.m.-Crew left ship."
The vessel was then manned by a Canadian crew until early in July of the following year, when she joined the tiedup fleet in the Patuxent River.
To the end of 1939 and in 1940, the Charles Pratt, under Panamanian registry, followed a schedule of voyages determined by war conditions which took her from Aruba, Las Piedras, and other regular loading ports to Halifax, St. Helen's Bay, Le Havre, Spithead, Gibraltar, Tripoli, Port-of-Spain, Bermuda, and Southampton.
After the fall of France changed the tanker tonnage situation, she was one of more than 20 ships tied up in the Patuxent River during the summer and fall of 1940-the Pratt being tied up from July 4 to October 29. Leaving Solomons Island, Md., on October 31, she proceeded to New York and then to Newport News, Va., for repairs.
Sailing from Newport News on November 28 and arriving at Aruba early in the morning of December 5, she loaded her last cargo, 96,069 barrels of fuel oil, and sailed the same day for Freetown.
The wartime voyages and cargoes of the Charles Pratt, in number and amount, were as follows:
Between September 3, 1939 and December 21, 1940 the masters of the vessel were Captains Harold Griffiths, Frank H. Spurr, and Eric R. Blomquist.
During the same period her engineroom was in charge of Chief Engineers Laurence B. Jones, Willie F. Wilson and William M. Strang.
At noon on December 21, 1940, as shown by entries in the ship's log, the Charles Pratt had made 210 sea miles during the previous 24 hours and at the time of the submarine attack was in Latitude 8°26' North, Longitude 16°51' West, or about 220 miles from Freetown.
To quote the report of Captain Blomquist:
"The wind was calm and the sea smooth, with a light swell. Visibility was maximum. At 2:55 p.m. a torpedo struck without warning amidships, starboard side, blowing up bulkheads at No. 6 main tank and No. 4 summer tank and also deck plates in way of pumproom. The explosion showered oil and debris clear to the top of the mast and aft over the boat and poop decks.
"We were unable to send an SOS as the ship's aerial was broken and came down, rendering the radio useless.
The ship caught fire immediately and burning oil flowed into the starboard subway. Both engines were instantly put to full astern, as per standing orders I had given the engineers if a shock or explosion was felt.
"To put the fire out, the steam smothering line valve was opened, but to no avail; all pipe lines were broken in the pumproom. As the fire was gaining and we feared another torpedo, I gave the order to abandon ship. By this time the vessel had lost headway and stopped. Second Mate Robert E. Evans, in accordance with my instructions, had kept a continuous watch from the bridge but saw nothing of the submarine either before the torpedo struck or afterward. A search of crew quarters was made and Nos. 2 and 4 lifeboats were then launched."
Saw Deck Blown Up.
Chief Mate Hans Engelsen reported his observation and experience:
"At about 2:55 p.m., a seaman named Patrick Dougherty was standing with me near No. 7 tank, starboard. I had told him to sweep up some sawdust and oil on deck in the vicinity of this tank. The weather was fine; we were making about 9 knots and there was a slight swell.
"Without warning a torpedo struck the starboard side of the ship, apparently at No. 6 tank. There was a tremendous vibration throughout the ship. Seeing the deck heave up about 15 feet, I started to run aft. I do not remember seeing Dougherty at that moment. When I got near No. 3 cofferdam I saw wreckage high in the air which seemed to include fragments of steel plate. As I grabbed -hold of the cofferdam lid, everything went black."
A few minutes before the attack, Third Assistant Engineer Homer E. Gainey, after taking a shower bath, had just returned to his room. "Having put on a pair of dungarees," he said, "I reached down to get my shoes and was turning around to sit in the chair when the ship was hit. The violent shock threw me off balance and I fell backward against the chair."
Gainey did not realize that in hitting the chair he had injured his spine. His report does not mention the fact
that later on, in No. 4 lifeboat, he found rowing painful but did his share at the oars for several days. On arrival at Freetown, he was hospitalized on board a British vessel.
"As I got on my feet," Gainey said, "I saw a wave of smoke and flames. Going to the engineroom to give assistance if needed, and finding that the chief engineer and the first and second assistants were there, I took a wrench from the machine shop and ran back on deck to open the main steam smothering line.
"After opening the main valve, I started toward the midship house, shutting off smothering lines to other tanks that didn't need any steam, but when I got near the pumproom I found that the main smothering line and all other lines were broken and twisted. There was a big hole in the deck, which was ripped up from the starboard rail to the pumproom house.
"Going aft I met Third Mate Henry Bodden, who said he was going to launch No. 4 boat. Telling everyone I saw to stand by the boat, I went below and looked through the crew quarters, but nobody was there. Back on deck I heard them calling me to get into the lifeboat, as the captain had given orders to abandon ship."
Second Torpedo Extinguished Fire.
To continue Captain Blomquist's report:
"When No. 2 boat, which I was in, was about 200 yards from the ship, the second torpedo struck just forward of the bridge and midship house with a terrific explosion, blowing burning oil, smoke and debris several hundred feet into the air and showering the ocean with oil and steel fragments, some of which just missed our lifeboat. This second torpedo also put out the fire.
"Before we left the ship, a search was made for the chief mate, Mr. Hans Engelsen, whose station was No. 2 boat, but he was not found. When we afterward met No. 4 lifeboat, a check-up showed that three men were missing-Chief Mate Engelsen, Ordinary SeamanPatrick Dougherty, and Wiper Arthur A. Duffy. Afterthe torpedo struck, Duffy was seen jumping over the side. Dougherty was probably thrown overboard by the force of the explosion." (Engelsen went over the side while he was unconscious.)
Came to in Ocean.
To proceed with Chief Mate Engelsen's story:
"The next I knew I was in the ocean. Deep in the water, I came to, feeling a severe pain in my left side. I managed to swim to the surface and found myself about 50 feet astern of the ship, in a mass of oil. My effort to get into the clear water on the other side of the ship was unsuccessful. I had fractured a bone in my leg, although I did not know it at the time. Torn ligaments in my left side caused me great pain and slowed my swimming. Unable to find a piece of wreckage, I had to swim, mostly drifting and resting.
"Finally I saw the lifeboats and swam towards them as best I could. It was difficult to shout because of the pain in my ribs, but someone spied me and I was rescued. They had quite a problem getting me into the boat because of my injuries." As Captain Blomquist further reported:
"While it was still daylight boat No. 2 rowed around the starboard side of the Charles Pratt and we saw two large holes where the torpedoes had struck. The ship was listed heavily to starboard and lying low in the water, with the entire rail under. No. 1 lifeboat and most of the starboard side of the bridge and house had been torn away.
"Both boats started searching for the missing men. As the ocean was covered with fuel oil and wreckage for a considerable distance it was difficult to distinguish one object from another. We thereforestopped rowing frequently to listen for men calling. During one of these stops we heard a shout, but could not see anyone. Finally we saw someone swimming. A few minutes later we had Chief Mate Engelsen in my lifeboat. He was completely covered with fuel oil and suffering from abrasions and cuts; his chest was injured and his left leg fractured. We tried to find the other two men, but nothing was seen or heard of them. From the time Mr. Engelsen went overboard until we picked him up, approximately 40 minutes had elapsed.
"As I deemed it unwise to go aboard the ship during daylight in case the submarine should come up and start shelling us, we stood off about a mile waiting for darkness. As night fell, the Charles Pratt was extremely low in the water and suddenly we could not see her at all. While she was still visible I had taken a compass bearing and we kept heading directly for the ves-sel's position. I had No. 4 boat on the tow line so we would not be separated.
"It was my intention that if the ship was still afloat I would go aboard. If the emergency radio set functioned, I would try to rig sufficient aerial to send out an SOS and give our position. I also wanted to get bandages and first aid for Mr. Engelsen, as well as more water, although I had the water and bread breakers transferred from the starboard boats before abandoning ship. However, when we came to where the ship should have been, the ocean was covered with heavy fuel oil and it was very difficult to pick up the oars when rowing.
Saw Submarine.
"Then a dark object was seen almost right ahead, lying low in the water about 200 feet away. At first I thought it was the Pratt, but as it gradually rose out of the water we could see the conning tower of the submarine and a gun on the foredeck. While we watched, two small blue lights appeared on the conning tower. I was sure it was the submarine and gave orders to row away. As fast and silently as possible we continued rowing for several hours. At first we could see the submarine riding high in the water and cruising around in ever widening circles. At one time he played a bluish searchlight over the ocean, but we were then out of range and he did not see us. Eventually the sub disappeared from sight. Towards morning a light breeze sprang up and we set sail, heading towards Freetown."
Engelsen's injuries were treated with the means available. "I was in the bottom of the boat," he said, "and unable to raise myself. Able Seaman Ralph Hansen sewed a piece of canvas around my chest.
The upper part of my body was entirely covered with fuel oil. Hansen washed the oil out of my eyes with kerosene."
Gainey's report gave an account of No. 4 lifeboat:
"We rowed all that night. About eight men at a time took the oars while the others rested. When the wind came up, we hoisted the sail; when it died down we started rowing again. This went on hour by hour, day after day. On the evening of the 24th of December the boats got separated from each other on account of a high wind. By nightfall we could not see the captain's boat."
To continue Captain Blomquist's report:
"When torpedoed we were approximately 220 miles from Sierra Leone Light at the entrance of Freetown harbor. The boats kept together until the night of the 24th when a fresh breeze sprang up and No. 4 boat, with her larger sail, drew away from us to the south.
Spent Christmas Day Adrift.
"After dark I fired a parachute flare and every 15 minutes during the night signaled with a flashlight, but the men in the other lifeboat said afterward that they saw no lights. During the night we kept ro-wing at an easy pace. At 10 a.m., Christmas day, a vessel was sighted but we were unable to attract her attention. At 1:10 p.m., another ship was sighted heading directly for us. We fired signal flares and waved. At 1:50 p.m. we made contact and at 2:00 p.m. were taken aboard the British Royal Mail Line motor vessel Gascony.
"We were treated with the warmest welcome by officers, passengers, and crew, who supplied us with clothing, food, and water. I asked the master how far we were off Freetown and he said about 60 miles, almost due west. We had made 160 miles in 4 days of rowing and sailing. I informed him that the other lifeboat should be somewhat to the south and west of us. He made a 10-mile triangle search but without success, as the visibility was poor.
"We were landed at Freetown the following morning December 26. I reported to the naval authorities, who sent planes and patrol craft looking for our other lifeboat, but were unable to find it. However, No. 4 boat was picked up on December 26 by the British steamer Langleegorse, which landed the men at Freetown on the 27th.
"The morale and discipline of the entire crew was excellent and all landed in good spirits."
On arrival at Freetown, Chief Mate Engelsen was taken on board the hospital ship Oxfordshire.
"I spent three weeks on the British vessel," he said, "receiving treatment for my injuries and exposure. When I left the hospital ship I was lodged in the Hotel Victoria in Freetown. Arrangements were made by Captain Blomquist and the agent to repatriate Mr. Gainey and me on the Barber Line's West Humhaw."
"In No. 4 lifeboat," Mr. Gainey reported, "we sighted a ship on the afternoon of December 25, but she passed on without seeing us. We rowed all that day and all night. At daylight on December 26 the wind sprang up and we hoisted the sail. There was just enough wind to keep the boat moving. Finally, at about 4 p.m., we sighted a ship astern of us about 5 miles away bearing in our direction. After approaching within half a mile, she hove to and lowered a ladder over the side. Taken on board, we were given water, food, and clothes. The lifeboat was then sunk. The vessel that picked us up was the British freighter Langleegorse, bound for Freetown. We arrived there the morning of the 27th and I was sent to the sick bay of the British ship Edinburgh Castle."
With the exception of Chief Mate Engelsen and Third Assistant Engineer Gainey-for whom two canceled accommodations were available on the West Humhaw-the repatriation of the survivors of the Charles Pratt from Freetown to the United States was a problem of considerable difficulty. But by means of inquiries and cable messages every effort was made to expedite transportation for all hands except Able Seaman Roberto Defranza, who, regarded as an Austrian, was interned at Freetown. When finally released, Defranza returned on the Prometheus, arriving at Norfolk on November 14, 1941.
Captain Eric R. Blomquist entered the Company's service as a third mate on June 4, 1923, and was promoted to master on April 28, 1936.
Chief Engineer William M. Strang joined the Company on January 21, 1929, as a third assistant engineer. He was promoted to chief engineer when assigned to the Charles Pratt on November 13, 1940.
Five members of the crew of the Charles Pratt on December 21, 1940, were subsequently on other tankers which were lost or suffered war damage. Captain Blomquist was the master of the Esso Augusta when she was damaged by a mine explosion on June 15, 1942; Chief Mate Hans Engelsen was on the Esso Boston when she was torpedoed on April 12, 1942;
Third Mate Henry A. Bodden, later second mate of the M. F. Elliott, was killed in the sinking of that vessel on June 3, 1942; Oiler Paul W. Dye was second assistant engineer of the Franklin K. Lane when she was lost on June 8, 1942; and Wiper Charles H. Low was machinist of the Esso Bolivar, torpedoed on March 8, 1942.
Lost on the "Charles Pratt"-December 21, 1940;
Survivors of the "Charles Pratt";
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