Soapy combers of the Gulf Stream lunge across the Atlantic carrying with them a clutter of spars, smashed planks, crates, broken chairs, two or three stove-in lifeboats with keels to the sun.
Quietly sank the Vestris, a fortnight ago, some 250 miles east of Hampton Roads, in water two miles deep, beyond hope of recovery. There was no collision, no explosion, no hurricane. She was scuttled, perhaps by negligence.
Dead, or missing and probably dead, are in persons. Twenty-two bodies were recovered. The crew fared better than passengers, 155 out of a personnel of 198 having been picked up by rescue ships. Of passengers 60 were saved, 68 perished.
Not one of the 13 children aboard, and only eight of the 33 women, survive.
Hysterical survivors filled the press with stories of leaking lifeboats, faulty tackle, indifference of officers, mutinous and incompetent crew. Capt. William J. Carey went down with his ship; but those who watched him on the bridge, taciturn, deaf to questions and pleas, wonder why he deferred SOS until 20 hours after danger became apparent.
Meanwhile eight investigations were projected or under way.
The Gold Ship. The Lamport & Holt liner Vestris, built in Belfast in 1912 and measuring 495 feet in length, 10,944 tons, plied between New York and Buenos Aires, stopping at the Barbados and way points. Because shipments of gold, sometimes valued at as much as $3,000,000, were often sent on her between Argentine and New York banks, she was referred to as "the Gold Ship." She was named for Lucia Elizabeth Bartolozzi Vestris, English actress (1797-1856).
Before her last voyage she was overhauled in drydock at Brooklyn. A minor collision in the Erie basin as she left dry-dock did no more than scrape paint. After this she was examined by three U. S. Department of Commerce inspectors, who spent three days in their work and certified her "seaworthy and equipped according to law." During the inspection every lifeboat was tested; filled with men, lowered to the water and raised again.
On Saturday afternoon, Nov. 10, the Vestris sailed from her pier at Hoboken, with fair weather and calm sea. Yet one passenger, Carlos Quiros, chancellor of the Argentine consulate in New York, bitter in his criticism of the way the Vestris was handled, says: "She had a list when tied up at the pier before sailing. In fact, we could not sleep on Saturday."
Saturday evening, Captain Carey did not appear in the dining room for dinner. He was already beginning the vigil that ended Monday afternoon.
Man the Pumps. Early Sunday morning the weather began to thicken, and at 9 o'clock the Vestris sprang a leak. Chief Engineer James A. Adams went below, found water pouring in through an ash-discharger valve, also into the engine room where a pipe had given way. Hardly had these been stopped when it was discovered the Vestris was shipping heavy seas through a coal port.
This last leak was on the port side, but water flowed to starboard because the ship was listing to that side. Sunday afternoon a fourth leak was found in the starboard coal bunkers. By 6 o'clock Sunday evening all the pumps were working, and still the water gained. Two more leaks had developed.