Former Navigating Officer of U. S. Collier, Who Went Over Her Course Later, Convinced She Broke in Two Under Strain of Badly Stowed Cargo, Passed Buoy He Believed Hers.
New York—In an Interview given to The World, Lieut. James M. Hays who was navigating officer of the navy collier Cyclops until a few days before she put to sea on a voyage from which she never returned, said that when he went on the collier Orion over the Cyclops‘s course he learned enough from floating objects and Inquiries made in Brazilian ports to satisfy himself as to the fate of the missing collier and her crew.
From the bridge of the Orion, on which h also was navigating officer, he saw a buoy and what appeared to be a life-raft such as the Cyclops carried. The buoy was in latitude 15.31 north and longitude 58.27 west, or about 150 miles northeast of Bermuda.
In Bahia, Brazil, he learned that the Cyclops was loaded with 15,000 tons of manganese ore for the Bethlehem Steel company. There were only two stationary cranes to load the ore with and they were 300 feet apart. So 7,500 tons of the ore were loaded forward In the collier and 500 tons aft.
HIs conclusion may be a divulgence of the secret of one of the deepest sea mysteries of all times, which sailormen have said was guarded by the Southern Cross. The Southern Cross looms up at night down where Polaris, the North Star, which Is often used by mariners for adjusting compasses, disappears from view.
No Mystery In My Mind
“There Is no mystery in my mind as to the fate of the Cyclops and her crew,” Lieut. Hays said. “I believe that perhaps on a calm and sunny day, when the sailors off watch were dozing or perhaps at midnight, when all were asleep except the men on watch, the great ship, without warning, parted amidships, splitting her aerials (she sent no wireless call) and sank from sight.
“The current north of Barbados runs strong. If any objects floated free from her they would have been carried seaward, perhaps thousands of miles from where she sank. It is plausible that they were carried across the Atlantic, where navy wreckage from the war was so common It was not all picked up. As a matter of fact, it was avoided by vessels as a warning of the proximity of submarines.”
Just Escaped the Tragic Trip
Lieut. Hays remained In the navy after the war, only leaving the service on March 27 last. From the Orion he went to England and was on cargo transports that crossed the English channel. After the war he was on mine-sweeping duty in the North sea. He went Into the navy In the reserve force as a “gob” in Pittsburg. That was on March 17, 1917, a few days before we entered the war. When war was declared he was assigned as a coxswain on the destroyer Downes, which was at Philadelphia. Three months later ha was commissioned an ensign and sent to the reserve officers’ training class in Annapolis. After that he went to Cape May as an instructor In seamanship, and from there, in November, 1917, he was assigned to the Cyclops as lieutenant, Junior grade. The Cyclops was at Norfolk. Lieutenant Hays was detailed as navigating officer.
“On Christmas day I had lunch with the officers of the Orion, which was lying in the same dock,” Lieutenant Hays said. “Her officers asked how I liked the Cyclops. I said I did not like the atmosphere on the ship. They asked me why I did not try for a transfer to the Orion. I did, and it was arranged through Captain Boesch of the Orion. Nering took my place on the Cyclops.
“Despite war time secrecy, every one in Norfolk knew the Cyclops was to take on a cargo for South America.
“On January 1, 1918, I stood on the Orion‘s quarter deck, near the stern rail, watching the Cyclops let go her lines and clear the dock under the Orion‘s stern. They ‘let go forward!’ on the Cyclops, and the current carried her bow out in the river. They ‘let go aft!’ The cry ‘All gone, sir!’ rang out, and the Cyclops swung out into the stream.
“On April 1 we went to Lambert’s Point, Hampton roads, to load 12,000 tons of coal, and from there to the Norfolk navy yard to load steel plates, gasoline drums and depth charges — all of which gave us 2,000 tons of cargo on top of coal. The detonators of the depth charges we hung In the rigging for safety. On April 3 I reported to the skipper that we were secure for sea. We were going to South America.
Lost With All Hands
“That afternoon a young ensign came down from the bureau of navigation in Washington with some confidential code books to be delivered to ships In South American ports. He spent an hour In the captain’s cabin. After he went ashore the captain came Into the wardroom where we were playing cards and listening to a victrola and said to me I ought to thank God l was there. The other officers stopped the games and listened when the captain told me the Cyclops had been lost with all hands.
“We had orders from the bureau of navigation to keep a sharp lookout for any sign of the Cyclops on our journey south to Bahia, on our way to Rio Janeiro, Montevideo and Buenos Ayres.
“On the morning of April 7 I was on watch on the bridge, and the look out reported a flouting object 500 yards off the port bow. Impulsively I gave orders to the helmsman to change the course so I could get a closer look at the object. I soon saw it was a Franklin buoy or circular life preserver, made of copper and airtight. Swinging from it was a small rod, to which had been attached the carbide light designed to Ignite when the buoy struck the water. All large navy ships carried these Franklin buoys—one on each quarter deck. In case of a man overboard the buoys were dropped over the side to locate the spot as well as for something for the man to swim to.
“Thinking there might be some message scratched on the copper, or that we might be able to identify the buoy through its register number, I made three circles around it, in the meantime having a dozen sailors stationed along the rail from the forecastle aft, all equipped with grappling hooks on the ends of lines, and tried to pick the object up without stopping. After the third circle Captain Boesch, who had been awakened in his sea cabin in the lower bridge by the noise of the gears and steering wheel, came up on the bridge in his pajamas. It was 8:30 a.m. He saw the ship was off her course and ordered me back on my course. I made an observation and entered it with the incident in the ship’s log. The rest of that watch was uneventful.
Next a Life Raft
“That evening, shortly after I came on duty for the mid-watch, I was standing In the chains, the wooden grating projecting from the sides of the bridge where the leadsman stands to take soundings. For a moment I watched the cutwater of the Orion, and suddenly a life raft bumped under the flare of the bow and passed directly along under the bilge of the ship, whirling around as it did so. The raft was oval shaped, 9 feet long and 5 feet wide, with netting inside to stand in or grip. On each of these rafts is a bronze plate with a register number by which they are identified.
“This time I Immediately sent my messenger to call the captain to the bridge. The captain came up three steps at a time and looked at the raft through the glasses. It was then astern, but plainly visible, as it is light down there as late as 9:30 in the evening. The captain shook his head and said: ‘Better keep on your course.’ After a glance at the evening sky he went below. Again I made an entry in the log, this time figuring out the raft’s position by dead reckoning, as it was too late for a sun sight and too early for one by the stars.
“For nine days we kept on south with the ship running dark on account of the possibility of a lurking submarine seeing us. About April 10 we received a wireless that the news of the loss of the Cyclops had been given out publicly. Thereafter the trip was uneventful except for an occasional white sail on the horizon and an incident one night.
“At the end of the thirteenth day we put Into Bahia and dropped off a few of our 300 army passengers. We had gobs, diplomats and marine officers on board. Then we put to sea, again for Rio.
“We arrived at Rio four days later and when we entered the harbor the U. S. S. Pittsburgh, with the admiral’s flag flying, ordered us to take anchorage 1,000 yards astern of her. We lowered away one of our motor boats and sent to the Pittsburgh, among other passengers. Captain Harrington of the marine corps, who had been assigned to the Pittsburgh for duty.
Reports to Admiral Caperton
“An hour later a semaphore message from the Pittsburgh read: Captain Hays will repair on board Pittsburgh immediately and report to the force commander.”
“A boat called alongside and I shoved off for the Pittsburgh. Upon arriving on board her I went to Admiral Caperton’s cabin and was greeted by him very kindly. He asked me to tell him about the Orion’s journey southward and particularly about the objects we had sighted off Barbados. Captain Harrington had told him In a chat about the incidents.
“In reciting them to the admiral I made It clear to him that in both
cases the Orion‘s captain ordered me not to stop.
“This relieved me of all responsibility, and as I left the Pittsburgh Captain Boesch was ordered on board the flagship. He came back to the Orion some time later, apparently upset as a result of his talk with the admiral, and he called me into his stateroom.
Captain Boesch “In Trouble”
“He told me it looked as though we were in trouble. He said almost every one on the Orion had seen the Franklin buoy, but as far as he knew only the two of us had seen the life raft. He asked me in a subtle way if I was sure it was a life-raft. I answered that it might have been a phosphorous spot in the water.
“The captain called in his yeoman and dictated a letter to this effect;
‘After careful consideration I have come to the conclusion that the object reported as a life-raft was not a life-raft but a phosphorous spot in the water caused by small seas.’
“I heard nothing more about the matter. I thought several times, though, of Amphitrite, beloved of sailors, who dances under a ship’s prow.
“From Rio we went to Montevideo. On our way home we stopped at Santos, Brazil, to take on a cargo of 12,000 tons of coffee. We were glad it was not manganese. We stopped at Rio again to pick up travel passengers for the States.
A Dread Prophecy
“While In Bahia the paymaster of the Orion and I went to the cruiser Raleigh one evening to have dinner. During the course of the meal we were told that as the Raleigh‘s officers stood on deck watching the Cyclops put to sea on her homeward journey they bet each other the Cyclops would never get back to the States.
“I have often stood on the forecastle of the Orion looking aft and watched her deck give In a calm sea. The cause of this is that the twin screw colliers are so long that when both engines happen to thrust together the longitudinal strain Is so great there is a give to the framing of the ship. Ofttimes during that vibration I have looked up at the bridge and watched the foremast bend like a carriage whip.
The Raleigh‘s officers, even from a distance, had seen the Cyclops‘ deck give under the strain.
The Cyclops’ Cargo
“I went ashore at Bahia to see the dockmen who had loaded the Cyclops. On the dock where the cargo was stowed, the foreman, named Martins, explained to me as best he could remember Just how the loading was done.
“He pointed out two cranes set about 300 feet apart on the dock and told me the cranes had lowered the cargo into the Cyclops‘s holds. I asked him if the cranes had been moved during the course of the loading, and he said ‘No.’ He also said the Cyclops had not shifted either forward or aft along the dock.
“This implied that one-half of the cargo had been loaded into one or two forward hatches and one-half Into one or two after hatches.
“With a collier’s 12,000-ton cargo of coal all the hatches are filled to the covers. Manganese ore is so much heavier than coal that 12,000 tons of it spread evenly over a big ship’s bottom would be only a few feet deep.
“I have given these facts as I found them. Think them over. Then decide for yourself the fate of the Cyclops.”
The Pioche Record, Pioche, NV, June 17, 1921