THE STRANGE TRAGEDY OF THE MORRO CASTLE - PART II Click on anything in color to view image.   George Alanga, who was on duty in the radio room, smelled the smoke and immediately wakened George White Rogers. Rogers took command of the radio and ordered Alanga to the bridge to see if Warms wanted him to transmit an SOS. Alanga fought through the smoke and flames and finally made his way to the bridge where confusion reigned. The wheel had stopped responding and the ship was now at the mercy of the waves and wind. Warms was shouting at Chief Engineer Abbott to go below and keep the boilers running to provide water pressure to the hoses as his duties dictated. Abbott kept muttering, over and over, "It's too late now!" Alanga tried to get Warms' attention, but the acting captain seemed to not recognize him. Finally Alanga gave up and made his way back to the radio room. The fire was now spreading towards the radio room and the metal floor was becoming too hot for Rogers' feet. He was forced to keep them elevated while he awaited Alanga. When the assistant finally arrived he reported, "They're all crazy up there," but Rogers sent him to the bridge again. On his second trip Warms finally acknowledged him and asked if an SOS could be sent. Alanga just shook his head in disgust and headed back to Rogers. By now the radio room was beginning to fill with smoke and the heat was becoming unbearable. It was now past 3:15am and the fire had been raging for over 25 minutes and still no SOS had been sent. Rogers could hear other ships in the area radioing the Coast Guard on the Jersey shore to ask if a ship was on fire because they could see the glow. Batteries which powered the receiver exploded, spilling sulfuric acid onto the floor. The transmitter still was functional and Rogers held his ground. Finally Alanga arrived with Warms okay and Rogers began to transmit the call for help. When a wire became disconnected from the generator which powered the transmitter Rogers calmly felt his way across the room through the smoke and ignoring his blistering hands reattached it and continued transmitting. Even Alanga, who distrusted and disliked the creepy chief, was impressed by his calmness and devotion to duty. However, a full half-hour was wasted waiting for the order to transmit. That half-hour delay would prove deadly to many passengers as they awaited rescue. Acting Captain Warms now realized the fire was beyond control and tried to use the engines to steer the Morro Castle closer to the Jersey shore so the passengers would have a better chance of survival. When the engine room reported the smoke was too heavy for them to continue to man their post, he ordered the engines stopped and ordered the anchor dropped. The ship was still about five miles off the coast of Manasquan, New Jersey. By now the fire was spreading to where the remaining passengers were huddled at the rear of the ship. The heat and smoke were unbearable as the flaming deck began to blister their feet through their melting shoe soles. Shrapnel from exploding windows and port holes was a constant danger. Finally those on board could wait no longer and they began to jump. Warms for the first time made his way towards the back of the ship to see how far the fire had spread. He was dumbfounded to see blackened figures going over the side. "They're jumping back there," he told his fellow officers on the foredeck, unable to believe his own eyes. In times of disaster and crisis the best and worst is revealed in human nature. The same was true as the Morro Castle burned in the night. For every hero there was a villain. For every brave man or woman there was a coward. Most of the crew abandoned their posts when they saw that continuing to fight the fire was useless. Instead of aiding the passengers and seeing to their safety, they either manned and lowered the lifeboats or donned lifejackets and jumped overboard. However, other crew members gave up their lifejackets and belts to elderly passengers and children so that they had a chance for rescue. Other crew members sought items that would float and tossed them in the water in case the passengers had to abandon ship. Many passengers lost precious minutes searching for loved ones, either their own or on behalf of tearful strangers. Some lost their lives. If the crew, poorly paid and trained and with no loyalty to the Ward Line or its passengers, could be forgiven for their conduct, the behavior of a few officers could not. Some, such as Cruise Director Smith, were the ideal, with conduct becoming officers and gentlemen. Using his calming voice and influence he stayed with the passengers at the rear of the ship and implored them not to go over the side until the ship stopped moving, knowing many would be pulled into the rotating propellers. He bandaged their wounds, adjusted their lifejackets and belts, and was the voice of reason in an insane world. When it was finally time to abandon ship Smith took an injured woman with him and kept her afloat for hours until they were rescued. Unlike Smith, Chief Engineer Eban Abbott's base conduct was the most shocking among the officers on board, even to his own shipmates. After not reporting to the engine room as his position required, and cowering on the bridge unable to follow orders, he jumped into a lifeboat and ordered it lowered. As Warms shouted for them to not lower the boat Abbott kept ordering it lowered. It went down the lines and into the water. The lifeboat held sixty-three, but only thirty were aboard. Twenty-seven were crew members. "It was a moment of shame for all those who believe in the tradition of the sea," Warms said later. The lifeboat commandeered by Abbott immediately made its way to shore, not bothering to pick up any of the many people helplessly floating and drowning in the water. He ripped off his epaulets and gold braid identifying him as an officer and mumbled, "I'll go to jail for this." By the time Acting Captain Abbott gave the official order to abandon ship, almost everyone still alive was gone. Following the tradition of the seas, he stayed aboard along with thirteen other crew members including Rogers and Alanga until the very end. The ship floated as helpless as the people below struggling to survive in the high waves and chilly Atlantic waters. Only six of the Morro Castle's twelve lifeboats made it into the ocean, and with a total capacity of 408, only eighty-five seats were filled, most by crew members. The unfortunate people left to founder for themselves waited helplessly for aid to arrive. For many it never would. The first rescue ship to arrive was the Andrea S. Lukenbach, a freighter with only two lifeboats to send out for the rescue effort. It was quickly followed by the Monarch of Bermuda, a British passenger liner, and the City of Savannah, another liner, whose crews acted with incredible bravery and efficiency to save as many of those still living as possible. As the magnitude of the disaster became known to those on shore, dozens of private fishing and pleasure vessels joined Coast Guard boats and battled the rough seas and high waves of the storm to pluck from the water both the living and the dead. Those they were unable to rescue washed up onshore. The living were treated in rescue stations set up in numerous towns from Manasquan to Sandy Hook. The dead were brought to a makeshift morgue assembled at Camp Moore, the National Guard Training Center. The final death toll was eight-six passengers (29%) and forty-nine crewmembers (18%). The Morro Castle was still not ready to join many of its unfortunate passengers in death. It continued to drift northward along the Jersey shore, its anchor unable to hold it against the gale force winds. An effort to tow the still burning craft into New York harbor failed when the tow line broke. The disaster was a media sensation as every newspaper and radio station rushed reporters, cameramen and soundmen to the scene. Radio led the coverage and thousands of people drove to the area after listening to the reports and followed the smoking wreck north along the old Shore Highway as it drifted. At about 7:30pm, Tom Burley of radio station WCAP broadcasting from Convention Hall in Asbury made a startling announcement, "She's here! The Morro Castle's coming right toward the studio!" The Morro Castle ran aground less than three hundred feet from where Tom Burley sat. The public and journalists followed in the thousands. Entrepreneurs charged the curious twenty-five cents for good viewing spots. The local fire department charged reporters and VIP's five dollars for transportation to what remained of the twisted and burnt liner. Serious consideration was given to staking a claim to the once great liner to keep the remains in Asbury Park as a tourist attraction, but more judicious and sober thoughts prevailed. Eventually she was towed south and converted to scrap. SOURCES: Fire at Sea - The Story of the Morro Castle By: Thomas Gallagher Rinehart & Company, 1959 - BUY THIS BOOK The Morro Castle - Tragedy at Sea By: Hal Burton The Viking Press, 1973 - BUY THIS BOOK Shipwreck - The Strange Case of the Morro Castle By: Gordon Thomas & Max Morgan Witts Dorset Press, 1972 - BUY THIS BOOK The Bayonne Times Bayonne, NJ The New York Times New York, NY The aftermath of the Morro Castle disaster and the strange story of George White Rogers will follow in the next few weeks.