The events in the early morning hours of April 4, 1933, off Barnegat Lightship, involving the most serious catastrophe in the history of airship operation, are now a matter of official record. That this record has been made available is due to the timely arrival of the German motor tanker Phoebus; it is very probable that had this vessel been delayed a mere quarter of an hour or so, this accident would have joined the long list of unsolved marine disasters. It is also fortunate that this ship was in the hands of a crew capable of prompt action in meeting the emergency, thereby effecting the rescue of the three survivors.
As is usual in such cases, there was a great volume of newspaper report, which, due to the prevailing lack of proper facilities for accurate reporting, has resulted in considerable confusion in the minds of many as to the actual facts attending the rescue. To clarify this condition, a translation of the report submitted by the Master of the vessel, Captain Dalldorf, follows:
“On April 3, 1933, at 2:05 p.m., the M.S. Phoebus took departure from Pier 6, Constable Hook, New Jersey, bound for Tampico, Mexico, in ballast. With pilot at the con we sailed through very thick leather down the Ambrose Channel until 4:52 p.m., when, in the vicinity of Fairway Light Buoy in a heavy fog, the pilot left the ship. After continuing under slow speed and constantly sounding the necessary signals, Ambrose Lightship came abeam on the Port side at 5:24 p.m. and a course of 174° was set. At 8:00 p.m. the vessel had logged miles and the course was then changed to 170°. Weather conditions at this time were as follows:
Thick fog
Wind --East, force 3
Barometer reading --29.79” at 11°C
Temperature of air --5°C. (41°F.)
Temperature of water --5.5° C. (41.9° F.)
“The thick fog continued until toward 10:30 p.m., when lightning without attendant thunder was observed. The barometer having fallen to 29".68 at 14°C., I remarked to the third officer that ‘Anything is liable to happen.’ The lightning increased and distant thunder became audible while light rain showers occurred intermittently from 11:30 p.m. By this time, the lightning and thunder had increased greatly, the former being extremely vivid. The thick fog persisted and I was unable to reconcile lightning and thunder with this condition and therefore felt a little uneasy. When, at midnight, the second officer relieved the third officer, the weather conditions were as follows:
Wind --East, force 3
Thick fog
Lightning and thunder
Light intermittent showers
Barometer reading --29.54” at 14°C.
Temperature of air --7°C. (44.6° F.)
Temperature of water --6°C. (42.8° F.)
“St. Elmo’s fire appeared intermittently on the truck of the jack staff. Toward 12:13 a.m., April 4, the wind subsided somewhat and the density of the fog lessened. The wind veered slowly to north until about 12:18 a.m., when it suddenly set in from the northwest with about force 10 strength, bringing with it heavy rain. These conditions continued for a period of about 10 minutes, after which both wind and rain subsided. A flickering light appeared in the air at an elevation of about 40°, bearing approximately 6 points to starboard and closely resembling a bright fixed star suddenly appearing through the clouds. After a moment the light disappeared, then reappeared, and at the same time a second flickering light was noticed, followed by a third, the first two flickering slightly with about the same intensity, the third brighter and flickering irregularly, all three appearing light blue in color. The position of these lights in relation to each other was as follows:
“Drawing a line through the first two from north to south and continuing this line to the horizon resulted in an angle of about 45°. The southernmost (third) light appeared somewhat higher and if connected by a line with the second light would have resulted in an angle of about 10° with the line between the first two. The distances apart of the three lights were nearly equal and remained unchanged but they moved slowly to the horizon, disappearing entirely, only to suddenly reappear again. Because of the continual heavy rain and notwithstanding the intermittent lightning, nothing could be seen in the air, these lights thereby presenting a phenomenon beyond our comprehension.
“At an elevation angle of about 10° to the horizon all lights disappeared. Visibility improved and I was about to ring half speed, when suddenly, 6 points off the starboard bow, bright lights on the water were observed. The interval between the disappearance of all lights in the air and the appearance of the bright yellowish-looking lights on the water was approximately 3 minutes. With the appearance of the lights on the water we believed that an airplane had descended. Weather conditions at this time were as follows:
Wind—Northwest 4
Rain—Moderate, with sheet lightning
Visibility—Approximately 2 miles
“Our position was about lat. 39-40 N., long. 73-40 W., and with rudder hard a-starboard, engines full ahead (engine log 12:35 a.m.), we proceeded to the location of the accident, giving the order ‘Call all hands, prepare lifeboat No. 1, bring life preserver belts and lines on deck,’ giving the ‘Man Overboard’ and boat drill signals on the air whistle. After 3 to 5 minutes from the time of changing course, large oil spots became visible on the water to starboard and the air was saturated with gasoline fumes. Cries for help were heard. The ship was stopped (engine logbook gives 12:48 a.m. as finishing of engine maneuvers) and all deck lights were switched on. Various articles, such as gasoline tanks with aluminum attachments, mattresses, pillows, paper plates, pieces of lumber, and a damaged rubber float, were observed on the starboard side. Meanwhile, the first boat, with 7 men under command of the first officer, was lowered at about 12:55 a.m. and three men were brought aboard after being rescued from a gasoline tank. Prior to the lowering away of the boat, a survivor was taken aboard from a rubber float by the use of one of the ship’s lines, he having been able to secure the line around his chest. The lifeboat then proceeded beyond the stern of the Phoebus, where calls for assistance were heard, but before arrival at the scene the cries had ceased. The boat continued the search, while on board the Phoebus immediate treatment was rendered to those rescued.
“The second lifeboat reached the water at about 1:10 a.m. and both boats searched the water’s surface with flash lights in a circle of 1.5 to 2 sea miles from the ship- Meanwhile, the wind had changed to northeast and we again drifted toward the previously sighted wreckage. Judging from the first calls for help, about 7 or 8, possibly more, of the shipwrecked must have been swimming in the water, but, owing to the sea in the vicinity of the accident being partly covered with gasoline, some of them probably were overcome by inhaling the fumes or by swallowing the gasoline. Had we arrived at the scene of the accident 2 to 3 minutes sooner, others might have been saved. Personally I witnessed an unfortunate one drown alongside of the ship, while other men on board claim they saw the drowning of two more. Subsequent investigation among the crew as to how many were seen brought forth varied and conflicting replies. The bright lights which had been observed on the water had already disappeared prior to our reaching the apparent location of the accident.
“Our entire crew participated with great zeal in the rescue work, all hands volunteering to man the boats. The survivors were severely benumbed, it being necessary to forcibly remove one of them from a gas tank because of the cramped condition of his hands. This man we were unfortunately unable to revive, he having been too long exposed to the frigid water. Immediately upon their being taken aboard we rubbed them down, placing bottles with warm water on them and administering small doses of spirits. The officer was the first to recover and he immediately communicated with the Navy Department. It was at this time that we learned that the wreck was the dirigible Akron with 77 persons on board. Bearings were requested and the position radioed to all ships, together with the news of the disaster. The search was continued until about 6:00 a.m., when the Coast Guard destroyer Tucker, the cruiser Portland, a hydroplane, as well as two other ships, arrived. The persons we had rescued were transferred to the Tucker, the position of the accident transmitted to the other ships, lifeboats taken aboard and the voyage resumed at 9:12 a.m.
“No SOS from the dirigible Akron was heard by the wireless operator as he had gone off watch when the static conditions necessitated shutting down the wireless apparatus.”
Seldom does it fall to the lot of a shipmaster involved in the daily routine of oil transportation to be placed in such a trying situation, and the maritime world is greatly indebted to Captain Dalldorf and his crew, not only for the able rescue work, but also for his careful detailing of all data in connection with the experience.