Argosy, September 1955 — page 84: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

82 Cc. H. MILSOM Then the Third Mate blew down the voice-pipe to say the position given was only about ten miles away from where we were, and for me to hang on to everything because we were going about and opening up to our full speed. I called the aircraft repeatedly to tell him we were coming, but there was still no reply and I assumed he was down in the water. We cracked along like a clipper. I think the Old Man was in his element at having a really good excuse for battling with the weather. He loved it. I obtained his permission to send out a general call, informing all ships of the distress and that we were proceeding to assist, but although I received an acknowledgment from Aden Radio and the assurance that he would impose silence on the air, it was easily apparent that there was no one else near enough to be of any use. I won’t go into all the details of how we found the aircraft, lowered one of our remaining boats, and picked up the survivors. I’m not qualified to describe it accurately, but I know it needed very fine seamanship on the part of Captain Halloran to manceuvre the Samaranda to form a lee, and excellent judgment from Mr. Saville, the Mate, who took charge of the boat. Anyway, I was in the wireless-room most of the time and didn’t actually see much of the rescue, although as you can imagine, we talked of | little else for the rest of the way home. However, the Old Man, who was a very decent sort, must have realized I was dying to know what was going on, for towards the end, he blew down to say the boat was just coming back alongside and for me to go up on the bridge and take a look. All I could see of the aircraft was one wing, part of the fuselage, and the tail sticking up. They'd evidently managed to get out one of those inflatable dinghies—it was still bobbing about—but Mr. Saville had trans- ferred the crew and passengers to the lifeboat, and when I got to the bridge they were being helped up the pilot ladder by practically every hand in the ship. I believe the Chief Steward and the cook had been brewing cocoa and laying out blankets ever since I’d picked up the message. One of the crew, the pilot as we assumed correctly, came straight up to the bridge to Captain Halloran. “Thank you, Captain,” he said simply. ‘‘ We couldn’t have lasted much longer if you hadn’t happened along. Your being exactly on this course, to come right up to us like that, is a stroke of fortune I shall never forget.” “* Stroke of fortune! ’’ Captain Halloran exploded. “ Fortune, . . . > d Commicbookscom) i ¥