The Mohawk was a lucky ship. She never has any mishaps and
always made good time. All the Clyde Line crews liked to sail on her,
and she was lucky to the last.
Just think of her burning in the water in a storm and every single
one getting off safely! I surely did hate to leave her and think I'd
never sail her again.
The sea began to toss us terribly as soon as we got past Sandy Hook.
The wind was blowing right into our teeth. It was cold and raining
and sleeting and nobody could think of anything but the storm. By evening
hardly a passenger was able to be up.
They didn't care much whether she burned or sank or kept afloat. They
were too sick. If they had been feeling better they might have been
a panic.
The blaze was discovered less than 12 hours after leaving New York.
It was in the hold directly under stateroom J.
It was just after midnight. I slipped on my kimono in a hurry and
went down the cabin knocking on all the doors and telling the passengers
to get up. Then I went back and gave the women smelling salts and helped
get them into their clothes. Most of them just groaned a little
more and began grabbing their things.
We led the passengers to the forward Social Hall on the upper deck
away from the fire. I didn't see any crying and didn't hear any of
them praying out loud. One man played the piano a while and a
doctor helped me and the other stewardess, Mrs. Gladys Stanton, take
care of the sick. Mostly they just sat around or stretched out on the
floor. It was cold, but smoke drifted in so we had to open a window
every now and then. The stewards made coffee in the pantry and passed
it around several times.
We just waited and waited. Captain Staples ran the engines as long
as he could. Flames drove the stokers from the furnace room and he
cast anchor.
Daylight certainly did look good. It was just about the worst winter
weather you ever saw, with the sea pitching us two or three different
ways at once. But we saw the Coast Guard cutter Kickapoo,
and a tug, and a Merchants and Miners Liner and a freighter all there
to help us.
The Kickapoo came in first, and all the women were put aboard
her. I was the last woman to leave. The Mohawk then was listed
to port at a steep angle, and the decks were slick as glass with ice.
But somehow everyone got into the cutter without falling. It was terribly
crowed there and most of us had to stand up.
Then when we landed at Lewes Delaware it was raining and we had to
walk through the mud to the train. There wasn't a dry stitch of clothing
in the crowd.
On the train going up to Wilmington one of the stewards who was in
the last boat load taken off told me the Mohawk made a grand
sight at the last when she was a solid flame from bow to stern.
