SS Arctic, an American paddle steamer owned by the Collins Line, sank on September 27, 1854, 50 miles (80 km) off the coast of Newfoundland after a collision with SS Vesta, a much smaller French vessel. Passenger and crew lists indicate that there were probably more than 400 on board; of these, only 88 survived, most of whom were members of the crew. All the women and children on board perished, along with the family of the owner of the Collins Line.
Arctic was the largest and most celebrated of the four Collins steamers that had operated a regular transatlantic passenger and mail carrying service since 1850. After the collision her captain, James Luce, first attempted to assist the stricken Vesta, which he believed was in imminent danger of sinking. When he discovered that his own ship had been seriously holed below the waterline, he decided to run her towards the nearest land in the hopes of reaching safety. His plan failed; the engines stopped when the ship was still a considerable distance from land. Arctic's lifeboat capacity was sufficient for fewer than half of those on board; when Luce ordered these launched, a breakdown in order and discipline meant that most places in the boats were taken by members of the crew or the more able-bodied male passengers. The rest struggled to build makeshift rafts, but most were unable to leave the ship and went down with her when she sank, four hours after the collision. Vesta, which initially appeared to have sustained mortal damage, was kept afloat by her watertight bulkheads and managed to limp into harbor at St. John's, Newfoundland.
Two of the six lifeboats that left Arctic reached the Newfoundland shore safely, and another was picked up by a passing steamer, which also rescued a few survivors from improvised rafts. Among those saved was Luce, who had regained the surface after initially going down with the ship. The other three lifeboats disappeared without trace. The limited telegraph facilities of the time meant that news of Arctic's loss did not reach New York City until two weeks after the sinking. Initial public sorrow at the ship's loss quickly turned to anger at the perceived cowardice of the crew. Despite press calls for a full investigation into the disaster, none took place, and nobody was held legally responsible. Demands for the introduction of further safety measures on passenger-carrying vessels were likewise sidestepped. Luce, who was generally exonerated from blame by the public, retired from the sea; some of the surviving crew chose not to return to the United States. The Collins Line continued its transatlantic service until further maritime losses and insolvency led to its closure in 1858.
Background
Transatlantic shipping
In the second quarter of the 19th century, the transatlantic shipping trade was revolutionized by the development of long-range steamships. The transition from sail was gradual; shipowners were initially influenced by popular theories that ships could not carry sufficient coal to traverse the ocean. This notion was disproved in 1838 by the almost simultaneous crossings of Isambard Kingdom Brunel's giant paddle steamer SS Great Western and the American SS Sirius. Great Western completed the crossing, from Bristol to New York City, in fourteen days and twelve hours; under sail, westbound passages against the prevailing winds and current often took five weeks or more.
The first shipping line to begin regular transatlantic steamer services was the British and North American Royal Mail Steam Packet Company, better known as the Cunard Line in recognition of its founder, the Canadian Samuel Cunard. It began its operations on July 4, 1840, when RMS Britannia left Liverpool for Boston, via Halifax, Nova Scotia. As the principal transatlantic mail carrier, the Cunard Line received subsidies from the British government and from the United States Post Office Department, the latter a point that rankled some Americans who felt that a home-owned line should be the beneficiary. U.S. Senator James A. Bayard of Delaware was among those urging Congress to subsidize a U.S. steamship line: "America will soon become tired of being informed of British maritime supremacy ... I suggest that Congress grant a carefully selected American shipping expert a completely free hand to proceed with the absolute conquest of this man Cunard". In 1845 the postmaster general invited tenders for a transatlantic mail contract. The successful bidder, announced on March 3, 1847, was New York shipowner Edward Knight Collins.
Collins Line
With government subsidies promised, initially at $385,000 a year, and with the backing of the leading investment bank Brown Brothers, Collins founded the New York and Liverpool United States' Mail Steamship Company, familiarly known as the Collins Line. He immediately embarked on an ambitious steamship construction program. The first of the four Collins Line ships, SS Atlantic, was launched in 1849 and began service in April 1850. Her three sister ships, Pacific, Arctic and Baltic, were all in service before the end of 1850. The four, all constructed of wood, were broadly similar in size and performance; Arctic was marginally the largest, at 284 feet (87 m) in length and 2,856 tons by American custom house measurement. The new Collins Line steamers were about 25 percent larger than the biggest of the Cunard ships, and were soon outperforming them; crossings in ten days became routine.
Arctic entered service on October 26, 1850. The luxurious standards of its passenger accommodation contrasted with those experienced by Charles Dickens, who crossed the Atlantic Ocean in Cunard's Britannia in 1840. Dickens found his Britannia cabin dark and cramped, "a thoroughly hopeless, and profoundly preposterous box", while the bleak saloon was "a long narrow apartment, not unlike a gigantic hearse". In Arctic, according to a seasoned transatlantic passenger, her cabins "in comfort and elegance surpassed that of any merchant vessel Great Britain then possessed", while the main saloon had "an air of almost Oriental magnificence".
Under her captain, James Luce, a 49-year-old veteran of thirty years at sea, Arctic became the most celebrated of the Collins ships. Her record eastbound crossing, from New York to Liverpool in nine days, seventeen hours in the winter of 1851–52, earned her the title of the "Clipper of the Seas". Luce was admired by passengers as much for his social qualities as for his seamanship; a reporter for Harper's New Monthly Magazine wrote approvingly: "If you ever wish to cross the Atlantic, you will find in the Arctic one of the noblest of ships, and in Captain Luce one of the best of commanders".
Last voyage
Liverpool to the Grand Banks
At about midday on September 20, 1854, Arctic left Liverpool for New York, carrying between 230 and 280 passengers (including around 100 women and children); about 150 crew members accompanied them. Among the passengers was Mrs. Edward Collins, wife of the line's founder, who was traveling with her 19-year-old daughter Mary Ann and 15-year-old son Henry Coit, together with her brother and his wife. Another party was formed by members of the Brown banking family: William Benedict Brown, son of the bank's president, was accompanied by his wife Clara, their two infant children, and two of William's sisters, including Maria Miller "Millie" Brown, who was a friend of Captain Luce. A further passenger was Luce's partially disabled 11-year-old son, William Robert, whose health the captain thought might benefit from the round trip.
Arctic passed Cape Clear, at the southernmost point of Ireland, early on the morning of September 21, and entered the open Atlantic approaching her maximum speed of 13 knots (15 mph). In settled weather she progressed uneventfully, and early on September 27 had reached the Grand Banks, off the coast of Newfoundland. This area is formed by a series of relatively shallow submarine plateaus forming part of the Canadian continental shelf. Here, the sub-Arctic waters of the Labrador Current meet the warm northbound waters of the Gulf Stream to create weather systems typified by intermittent mists and fog. It was the practice for steamers to maintain maximum speeds in these conditions, although before electronic aids to navigation the risk of collision was considerable. Keeping schedules was considered paramount, particularly in the Collins Line where, Alexander Brown states in his 1962 account, "there was no room for overcautious shipmasters". On the morning of September 27, Luce observed typical Grand Banks conditions: "at intervals of a few minutes a very dense fog, followed by being sufficiently clear to see one or two miles."
Collision
At noon on September 27, Luce calculated the ship's position at roughly 50 miles (80 km) south-east of Cape Race in Newfoundland. Shortly afterwards, as Arctic slipped into a bank of fog, the lookout saw the shape of a steamer bearing down at a rate of around 10 knots. He gave the warning; the officer of the watch commanded, "Hard-a-starboard" and ordered the engine room to stop and reverse. In the chartroom, Luce heard these orders and returned to the deck, just as Arctic was struck by the advancing steamer on the starboard side, between the bow and the paddle wheel. His first impression was that his ship was "relatively uninjured".
To most of the passengers on board, the bump seemed slight. Many of the passengers were gathered in the cabin prior to lunch and some of them were engaged in drawing the numbers of the daily lottery, based on the number of miles run in the preceding 24 hours. In the saloon, passenger William Gihon "perceived a slight shock, although it was scarcely more than a tremor or a quiver". He continued his conversation with a fellow-passenger: "Neither of us entertained any idea at that time that the Arctic had sustained injury". As passenger James Smith would state "I think we all seemed to satisfy ourselves that the shock was so slight and we were on so large and strong a vessel, no serious damage had happended."
The steamer which had collided with Arctic was SS Vesta, captained by a 30 year old Alphonse Duchesne. Vesta was an iron-hulled propeller-driven French ship used by a major fishing operator to ferry its employees to and from their center of operations at Saint Pierre Island, a French territory off the coast of Newfoundland. To those on Arctic's deck, Vesta appeared to be fatally damaged; Luce thought her bows "seemed to be literally cut or crushed off for full ten feet". His first reaction, believing his own ship almost untouched, was to assist Vesta, on which scenes of panic and chaos among the 200-odd sailors and fishermen aboard her were evident. He ordered his chief officer, Robert Gourlay, to lower one of Arctic's six lifeboats with a crew of six and to ascertain what help could be offered; meanwhile, Arctic slowly circled the stricken vessel. Gourlay's boat was quickly away, and another was prepared for launching under second officer William Baalham, but before this could be done Luce rescinded the order. He had noticed that Arctic had begun to list to starboard and settle by the bow, as well as a change in the movement of her paddle wheels through the water, signs of potentially serious damage. Baalham was ordered to make a closer inspection of the point of impact; he found that debris from Vesta's iron stem and anchor were impaled in the woodwork of Arctic's hull, creating substantial holes about eighteen inches above the water-line. Two breaches were below the waterline, admitting large quantities of water. Unlike Vesta, Arctic was not equipped with watertight compartments; the hull was open from stem to stern.
Confusion and panic
Dash for land
As Baalham made his inspection, others observed the extent of the damage, and a mood of concern and anxiety began to develop as news spread. With Arctic's four pumps working at full capacity, Luce attempted to stanch the leak by passing a large canvas sail over the ship's bow. This, he hoped, could be fastened over the holes in the hull to lessen the inflow of water, but the jagged iron debris protruding from the hull quickly tore the sail apart. The ship's carpenter tried to stuff the breaches with mattresses and other materials, but the holes were by then too far below the waterline to be reached. Realizing that his ship was in serious danger of sinking, Luce decided to run for the nearest land in the hopes of reaching safety while Arctic was still afloat; Cape Race was about four hours distant, if the ship could be kept moving. This decision meant abandoning Vesta, but Luce rationalized that the French vessel was likely to sink at any moment and that remaining with her might well condemn his own passengers and crew to the same fate. After vainly attempting to signal his intention to Gourlay and his crew, who were being left to fend for themselves, Luce ordered full speed ahead. A few minutes later, Arctic ploughed into a lifeboat that had been launched from Vesta. All but one of its dozen occupants were killed, mostly crushed under Arctic's paddle wheels. The single survivor was a fisherman, Jassonet François, who jumped clear and was hauled aboard Arctic by a rope.
Boats launched
As the water in Arctic's hull continued to rise, outstripping the pumps, the boiler fires were gradually extinguished. By one o'clock the ship was scarcely moving. Still far from land, and with no help nearby, Luce ordered that the ship's lifeboats be prepared for launching. In accordance with the governing maritime regulations, Arctic carried six steel-constructed boats, one of which had departed with Gourlay. The five remaining boats could safely hold 150 persons, well under half of those on board but with more than enough places to hold all the women and children. Under the charge of the ship's quartermaster, women and children were placed in the port guard boat, but as this orderly process proceeded, a group of male passengers and crew members rushed forward to claim the remaining places, and the boat was filled. Although ordered by the captain to remain alongside, it was rowed rapidly away.