Evening Republican, Volume 17, Number 141, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 13 June 1913 — THE AYRSHIRE AND THE IRON CAR [ARTICLE]

THE AYRSHIRE AND THE IRON CAR

How a Newfangled Invention Saved 200 Lives

By C. H. CLAUDY.

(Copyright, by Ridgway

S EMORIES of a horror are usually more highly colored than descriptions Written at the time. One might discount the story of the storm of January eye-witnesses, recalling at this fardistant date the blinding snow and the mountainous waves, but when the sober encyclopedia and the local histories both speak df this tremendous blizzard as of “unheard-of violence" and “beyond the power of words,” it is a fair inference that' it really was remarkable as a storm, even an At-

l&ntic winter storm. The snow was both thick and '■whirled In great clouds by a terrific gale, which parted the white flakes one minute for a gaze _far to sea, only to hide the waves themselves from those on shore the next. The cold was bitter, and the wind such that men had difficulty standing in it. To walk with a long eoat Or oilskins was Impossißle. The sea, according to description, was "euch that no boat could live, no. matter what brave hearts her crew might carry.” In thiß storm the British ship Ayrshire, carrying immigrants to this country, foundered and struck, two hundred yards from shore at Squan Beach, New Jersey. Government lifesaving service there was none at that time, such wrecking service as wae done being managed by individuals and charitable organizations. The government had not yet awakened to the need of 1 coast protection for its

shipping, nor were life-saving devices perfected then as they are now. Of self-baling, self-righting and buoyant life boats there were none. No one had ever heard of power life boats. ' But —luckily for the two hundred and one people on the Ayrshire—one James Francis, who invented corrugated iron, had made what he termed a "life car,” which was stored in a shed near the beach, waiting some such opportunity for demonstration. The Ayrshire and’the "Crazy” Car. The life car was not looked upon with favor by those Btout hearts which bad been accustomed to brave the sea In open dories, doing what rescue work they could with inefficient equip-ment-and depending on high courage and strong arms to snatch live bodies from wreck and sea: it was “newfangled;” it was a “foolish idea;” it was “not strong enough or big enough" to do the work. ,

But on this twelfth of January not the stoutest heart that ever beat could take a dory through the breakers, nor any strength in human arms beat out to sea against such wind and waves. So that when John Maxon, "wreck master,” proposed using the iron car, there were willing At Incredulous helpers in plenty to try the forlorn hope. The car was dragged from ltß ehedthe mortar made ready—the Lyle gun bad not then been invented—and the round ball with Its slender line irammed home. And if those on the ishaking hulk six hundred feet away icanght glimpses of activities on the "beach, it is doubtful if they had either [hope of rescue or comprehension of iwhat was being done, for it needed no }mariner to say this was no ordinary istorm. The most Ignorant of immiIgrants must have known that his ichance of reaching in safety that new •country he had come so far to seek was small, though but a short distance iremalned of the oversea journey. •As for knowing what they were about

—no one had ever heard of a life car

at that time. I Bat they knew on shipboard what to do with the ball and lind when it ■came aboard, which it barely did, after several trials. It eeema a peculiar coincidence that the utmost strength of •powder they could exert was Just so balanced by wind that the ball should fall directly on the deck of the Ayrshire and not short, or beyond; yet «o it was, as after events proved. t The light line yielded a heavier one, the heavier one hauled out a cable and a whip. Luckily the Ayrshire was •tout and strong, and \ had struck too far in and with too muoh force to pound. She was safe enough .for a short time, strongly built, and deep enough in the sand to form a,, firm support for the Car and the ropes. One can imagine the joy of the Ignorant at having communication thus established with the shore, and the added horror to captain and crew, who knew well enough that neither breeches buoy nor boat could live in that sea, cable or no cable. Nor would there be time for breeches-buoy work There were two hundred and one passengers and crew, many of them worn-

en and children, and the breeches buoy takes one at a time. An Aerial Bean Pot. But meanwhile the car was bent into the whip and willing hands hauled it out. Nor was there hesitation about opening or getting into the queer little,' flattopped, round-bellied, corrugated iron that looks scarce big enough for one, yet in which seven grown people can be packed through the tiny hatch, to be shut in helpless, sardined againßt the iron walls, chilled to the marrow and all but suffocated with little air. Yet there, those who use the life car are safe from drowning, for though air 'can get in, water—in quantities, cannot. For this is the merit of the life car: suspended from a cable and hauled back and forth by hand, it rides either over the waves, on top of the waves, or through the waves, and at times all three, one after the other.- The breeches buoy drowns a man who is dragged through too much water, killing while saving him. To be safe over a bad eea, the breeches buoy must be hung high. And here on the Ayrshire!, with no masts left and a two-hundred-yard pell to shore, there was no way to hang the cable high.

So the little life car made its first trip under the water, invisible and smothered in foam. You can be very sure it was quickly opened when it came to the beaeh at last and the cheer they gave for the seven who were hauled out, almost frozen, stiff and pale with the pallor of too close an approach of death, has left an echo wherever the iron car ie used. Two Hundred Saved. Not seven only, but over two hundred, did this, the first, life car save that day. Twenty-nine trips it made through the tmpassable waves and the indescribable storm. For.every trip John Maxon tallied seven lives saved, save once only. That was when some man—hero who ‘ gave his place to a woman or coward afraid to wait his turn, who can say now ? —mounted the top of the car after the metal hatch was closed and left the Ayrshire clinging to the hatch. No one saw him go nor knew how long he clung, buffeted and beaten, on the perilous perch. The car came in as before, with- seyen within,

who told of the man who could not Wait. ; /*’- ' The crowd on shore pulled and hauled on the ropes until their hands were blistered and sore: fast, fast, for the wreck was breaking up and the mass of immigrants seemed scarcely diminished on the low decks when a rift in the flying snow showed the Ayrshire’s white, shrouded form to those on shore. To drag a heavy , car six hnndred feet, out, and then haul it home again, laden and low —no wonder their hands got sore and their arms gave out! Then John Maxon brought his oxen into play and the two plodding beasts walked uncomplainingly back and forth, back and forth; all day long, until the car had made twenty-nine trips and every last man, woman and child on board, save the one who could not wait, were polled by main strength from a watery grave and eet on shore, cold, shaken, frightened, but safe!

A Record Rescue.

The life-saving service has many brilliant rescues in its" history and many a hero on its rolls. But never before or since tiffs time have so many people been rescued from so bad a wreck in so terrific a storm. And this fact wad recognized at the time: that here was a happening which was likely to stand unique for hundreds of yesfß. So the little life car, no longer new and shapely, but dented and buffeted by wave and sand and many heavy ’loads of human lives, was retired from active service, its honors won in this one day’s work, and now rests, an object of curiosity and of veneration, in the United States museum at Washington, for all to see who look. The sand buried the Ayrshire, as If the ocean, cheated of its human prey, would at least take what it could. Thirty years after, the tide—perhaps the ocean forgot its vengeance!—uncovered the bones of the Ayrshire, and in them was found the ball which fell on deck, bringing the light line which spelled life for two hundred. That ball, now suitably engraved, is one of the most, if not the most, cherished possessions of the life-saving service, which grew with the years and necessity into' its present huge proportions. There are still life cars in the stations of the service. For many years after this demonstration they played a big part in saving life, and probably will again. Of late years improved life boats, better facilities for erecting and using the breeches buoy, and finer life-saving methods have made its use less common. But it is always ready, the last resort of the crews when all else and no matter what the conditions or how bad the storm, there is always the memory of this, story and the Ayrshire—which every surfman knows—to prove that, be conditions what they may, while there is life to save and the life car to save it with, there is still hope.