Shipwreck! Read online

  “Let’s go up on the boat deck before we’re shooed out of here,” said Grace. “I want to get a look at the towns we pass along the St. Lawrence River. Once we’re in the Atlantic we won’t see land for days.”

  They dashed up to the boat deck. They leaned against the railing near the lifeboats, taking in the view and watching birds fly overhead. They peered at the small towns, the pine forests and the green fields lining the shores of the river.

  “I wonder how cold the water is down there,” said Albert, bending over the railing.

  “Pretty cold. It hasn’t warmed up enough since winter. I love swimming, but not in icy water.”

  “How did you learn to swim?” asked Albert.

  “My father taught me when I was little. He thinks everyone should know how to swim!”

  “I only know how to dog paddle.”

  “Dog paddling can keep you afloat for a long time,” said Grace.

  “A lifeboat is better for staying afloat,” said Albert, laughing.

  “At least there are enough lifeboats for everyone on the Empress. My father said that after the Titanic sank two years ago, all ships had to have enough lifeboats for all the passengers. Hey! What time is it now?”

  Albert looked at his watch. “It’s almost dinner! I promised to be on time.”

  “I’d better get back, too. Let’s look around some more tomorrow before breakfast.”

  * * *

  Albert’s table was in the middle of the room and filled with people from the Salvation Army. Everyone was talking about the voyage across the Atlantic and planning which sights to see in London.

  “Thanks for taking my place today, kid,” Albert’s cousin Lewis said as he sat down next to Albert. “The way I was feeling, I couldn’t possibly have played with the band.”

  “How are you feeling now?” asked Albert.

  “Much better. I never thought I’d get sick before we even set sail. Look! Here comes the bandmaster now.”

  Albert’s heart pounded as the bandmaster approached their table. The bandmaster shook his father’s and Lewis’s hands and then patted Albert on the shoulder.

  “Thanks for helping us out today, Albert. But I think you’d better get yourself a new hat.”

  Albert’s face turned red. He knew the bandmaster was referring to his mistake.

  “What’s the matter, kid?” asked Lewis. “Are you feeling sick, too? And what’s that about your hat?”

  “It’s too big for me. That’s all. I’m fine.”

  “Isn’t that the young lady you were talking to earlier?” asked Albert’s father, pointing to the door.

  Albert looked up. Grace and her parents were heading for a table at the other side of the dining hall. Grace waved to Albert and mouthed “tomorrow.” Albert nodded and waved back.

  Lewis poked Albert in the ribs. “Is that your new girlfriend, kid?”

  “She’s not my girlfriend. She’s just a friend. And I’m not a kid.” Lewis constantly joked that Albert was a kid even though, at eighteen, he was just barely an adult himself. “She reminded me that we agreed to meet early tomorrow to explore the ship.”

  Lewis jabbed him in the ribs again. “I was just kidding, Albert. Good luck getting up early! Early’s not for me. I’m sleeping in until right before breakfast.”

  CHAPTER SIX

  Albert tossed back and forth in his bunk. He kept picturing the disappointment on his father’s face as he hit the wrong note on his cornet.

  If only he hadn’t looked at Grace. If only his hat fit better. If only …

  It was no use. He checked his watch. It was almost one! Maybe it would help if he went out on deck. At home he loved sneaking out to see the stars at night. It always made him feel better when he had something on his mind.

  Albert slipped out of his bunk and into his clothes. He grabbed a jacket and headed to the Promenade deck. It had been less than nine hours since the Empress set sail. The ship was still making its way along the St. Lawrence River toward the Atlantic.

  Albert took a deep breath. He felt better already. He looked out across the river. The stars shimmered in the sky. Their sparkle reflected on the water. It was so peaceful. So beautiful. So …

  What was that noise? It sounded like footsteps. Someone was heading toward him.

  Albert turned around.

  It was Grace! She looked like she’d jumped out of bed without even combing her hair.

  “What are you doing here?” she asked.

  “I could ask you the same question,” he replied.

  “My father was snoring so loudly I couldn’t sleep. What about you?”

  “I couldn’t sleep either. So I came out to see the stars.”

  Grace looked out over the water. “It’s beautiful out here.”

  “It feels like there’s no one on board but us,” said Albert.

  Grace pointed to the deck above them. “And those crewmen on watch duty. I hope they don’t shoo us back to bed.”

  “Shhh. They’ll hear us.”

  “Sorry,” whispered Grace. “Do you think we’ll see any whales tonight? I’ve heard there are whales in the St. Lawrence.”

  “I don’t think whales come out at night.”

  The two stood there quietly scanning the river and staring intently over the water. Then they heard a clang.

  “Hey! Do you hear that?” Grace whispered. “Listen. There it goes again!”

  “Look! There’s a ship!” said Albert, pointing to a large black ship down the river. “I wonder what kind it is.”

  “It’s not beautiful like the Empress. That’s for sure.”

  “Maybe it’s a ghost ship,” said Albert.

  “Or it could be a pirate ship, and pirates plan to board the Empress and steal our diamonds and jewels.”

  “Well, they won’t get my new watch,” said Albert, tapping his wrist.

  “What time is it?”

  Albert checked his watch. “Twenty minutes to two.”

  “Wow! I’ve never been up this late.”

  A light fog began to roll in. Albert and Grace lingered near the railing for a few more minutes hoping the fog would pass, but it only grew thicker.

  “This fog isn’t letting up,” said Albert, yawning. “And I’m getting really tired. I’m ready to head in.”

  Grace nodded. “Me, too.”

  As Grace and Albert made their way to their cabins, a blast from the ship’s horn made them jump.

  “What was that?” asked Grace.

  “I don’t know. Listen! There it goes again. One. Two. Three.”

  “Albert, something’s wrong,” said Grace.

  Albert peered through a porthole. “I can see some lights. Maybe it’s that big dark ship we saw before.”

  “Or—” The floor shook beneath them. “Did you feel that?”

  “Yes! It felt like we hit something,” said Albert. “But how could we hit something?”

  Suddenly the ship listed hard and fast to starboard. Albert’s eyes widened. His heart pounded as water began to seep into the ship.

  Albert grabbed Grace’s hand and raced down the hall. “We have to warn our families. The Empress is sinking!”

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Albert and Grace rushed toward their cabins, struggling to keep their balance on the sloping floor.

  Albert’s heart pounded so hard he could hear it in his ears. Grace was breathing heavily. They leaned against the walls for support as they struggled to advance through the tilting corridors.

  They were close to their cabins now.

  People poured out of the neighbouring cabins.

  “What’s happening?” screamed a woman in a long flowered nightgown.

  “What should I do?” yelled another woman holding a baby.

  “My papers …” moaned a man.

  A few people with lifebelts made their way toward the top deck. Others stood around, dazed and confused.

  “Hurry! Put on these lifebelts. Head for the lifeboats on the boat deck,�
�� yelled a steward. “Move quickly!” He banged on the cabin doors.

  Albert and Grace each grabbed an armful of lifebelts from the steward and rushed to their cabins.

  “Father! We have to get off the ship,” screamed Albert, pounding on the door. “Father!”

  Albert’s father pried the door open. He rubbed his eyes. “What’s happened, Albert?”

  “The ship is sinking! We have to get up on deck. Put this on, quickly.” Albert handed his father a lifebelt. “I’ll check on the others.”

  Albert untied the strings of a lifebelt and slipped it on himself. Then he banged on the door of the next cabin, where the rest of his family had been asleep.

  His uncle yanked the door open. “What’s happening? Why is everyone screaming? Why—”

  “The ship is sinking,” Albert cried. “You have to get out. Now!” Albert made his way into their cabin. He tossed lifebelts to his aunt, uncle and cousin. “There’s no time left! Move. Please.” His voice was desperate.

  Aunt Betsy scrambled to find something to cover her nightgown. Lewis slipped a pair of pants over his pyjamas.

  “Quick. Put your lifebelts on and get out,” shouted Albert.

  “You go on, Albert,” said Uncle Thomas. “I’ll help your aunt and Lewis. We’ll find you later. Go on, lad. Go!”

  Albert hugged his uncle and aunt and left. His father was in the hall in his lifebelt. Grace was there, too, with her parents. Her mother was shaking and sobbing.

  “It will be all right, Mother,” said Grace, tightening her mother’s lifebelt. “We just have to hurry. Please. Follow me and Albert. We know the way.”

  Her mother’s long brown hair hung loose and dishevelled. A black jacket was draped over her frilly pink nightgown. She shivered and clutched her handbag against her lifebelt. Grace’s father’s lifebelt was wrapped against his black robe. They followed Albert and Grace down the hall.

  It was jammed. People screamed, cried, begged for help. Babies wailed. Toddlers called for their mothers. No one knew where to go or what to do.

  “Let’s go!” called Albert. “This way!” They wove through the crowded hall and struggled up the packed stairs.

  “Follow me!” Albert shouted over the din of voices.

  The ship listed more and more with each step. The lights flickered as water gushed in from the portholes and through doorways. It rose up past their ankles. It was harder and harder to walk.

  “Help!” cried Grace’s mother, slipping in the icy water. Grace turned. She and her father pulled her mother up and out of the swirling water. Her mother’s nightgown was drenched. Her hair was soaking wet. She sobbed.

  Grace shivered. Her blouse was wet all the way through.

  “This way!” shouted Albert.

  They reached the top of the stairs. They kept going until they made it to the boat deck. It too was packed with people, who were clinging to the railings as the ship’s starboard side leaned into the water.

  “Look, Albert,” shouted Grace. Her lips quivered as she pointed down. Bodies floated everywhere. The leg of a piano, mirrors, lamps, broken chairs and tabletops bobbed up and down beside the bodies. Those still alive clung to the debris.

  The screams and cries of the injured pierced Albert like a knife.

  And then the lights went out.

  “Help!”

  “Where are you, John?”

  “What should I do?”

  “We’re going to drown. Help us! Please!”

  People’s screams and voices rose higher and higher as Albert, his father, Grace and her parents reached the spot where the lifeboats had hung hours before. In the darkness they could just make out dangling ropes.

  “Where are the lifeboats?” shouted Grace.

  “There! Look!” Albert said.

  Two lifeboats lay below them, smashed to bits. Worse than that, the Empress was almost completely on her starboard side now. The giant ship was about to sink.

  “We have to jump,” said Albert. “It’s our only chance.”

  “Hold on to that lifebelt. Cling to anything solid you can find,” said his father. “I love you, Albert.”

  Albert gulped. “I love you.”

  “Dog paddle,” said Grace. “I want to hear you play the cornet again, Albert.”

  “Swim hard, Grace. You know how.”

  Albert looked at his friend. He looked at his father. Then he took a deep breath and jumped.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Down, down Albert sank. Darkness enveloped him. Cold, briny water filled his mouth, his nose, his ears. He couldn’t breathe. He pumped up and down with his arms and legs till he rose to the surface. He floated. He spit out water and coughed.

  Breathe. Breathe. You’re alive!

  Albert looked up. The ship’s huge stacks leaned heavily toward the water. They were going to fall. When they did, everything and everyone close by would be sucked under along with the ship.

  Albert paddled hard. He had to get away from the ship. His arms ached. His chest throbbed. But he kept paddling. Could he make it? Did he have the strength? Thank goodness he had his lifebelt.

  Every part of him was cold. It felt like he was floating in a giant tub filled with ice. He couldn’t feel his toes or his feet. His hands felt frozen, but he forced them to move, to paddle.

  Paddle, he told himself. Get away.

  His stomach churned. A sour taste rose to his throat and up to his mouth. He spit, but the sour taste remained.

  Paddle. Paddle.

  He searched for signs of his father, Grace or her parents. He looked for his aunt, uncle and Lewis. He couldn’t see anything in the dark but bodies and slabs of jagged wood. A drum like the one the Salvation Army band played bobbed in the water. A man clung to a desk, moaning.

  A long table floated by. Albert reached out, straining with all his might to touch it, but it was too far. It drifted away.

  What had been elegant chairs, desks and tables were now just debris.

  Paddle. Paddle.

  He couldn’t feel anything anymore. Not his feet. Not his hands. His fingers were getting stiffer, but he could still move them.

  A broken dresser floated close by. He paddled hard to get within reach of it. He touched the top, but his fingers slipped off. He paddled some more, then managed to get hold of a long, sharp edge. He curled his frozen fingers around it, then wrapped his arms around the sides of the dresser and drew it toward him.

  Albert leaned his head against the dresser and took deep breaths. Then he lifted his head and peered around again. As he did, he felt something loosen around him. He touched his shoulder. His waist. His lifebelt was gone! There was nothing around him but his wet clothes.

  Where was his lifebelt? He looked down. It had slipped off and was floating away. He reached out to grab it, but it was moving too fast. He’d need both arms to reach the lifebelt, but then he’d have to let go of the dresser.

  Albert’s heart sank as the lifebelt floated away. All he had now was the dresser. And the ship’s stacks were about to fall.

  CHAPTER NINE

  With a thud the giant stacks smashed into the river, setting off huge waves and crushing a lifeboat filled with people. Their screams echoed through the night. Albert’s heart thumped as he clung to the dresser. He shook from the force of the waves, but he held on. Salt water sprayed his face, stinging his eyes. He couldn’t see. He could barely breathe.

  Hold on. Hold on.

  An explosion thundered through the river. Wood, glass and metal flew everywhere. People who had been clinging to the ship’s port side were thrown into the water. The Empress was going under fast. And then she was gone. And so many were gone with her.

  A wave of sadness and pain shot through Albert. Did his father make it? What about his uncle, aunt and Lewis? And Grace and her parents? Were they alive or …?

  Don’t think about that, Albert told himself. Just hold on.

  In the distance he saw a light. Was it a flare? And was something moving? A lifeboat?
Yes! It wasn’t far away. He lifted an icy hand and waved.

  “Help! Here I am. Help!” he called. His voice was low and raspy. He called again. Louder this time, “Help me! Please!”

  Did anyone see him? Hear him? He couldn’t tell if the lifeboat was coming closer. It was so dark, it was hard to see anything clearly.

  “Here! I’m alive. Please come!” he tried to shout louder. “Help!” He tried again and again, but the words sank into the river like the Empress.

  The lifeboat wasn’t moving toward him! It was moving away. They hadn’t seen him at all.

  Would anyone ever come? He scanned the river. All he could see were bodies. Fewer bodies than before.

  It was quieter now in the water. He could only hear a few people calling for help, crying, sobbing, moaning. Albert knew what that meant. His tears mixed with salt water and stung his eyes again.

  Don’t cry. Not now.

  He kept scanning the water for a ship or lifeboat. Someone had to see him. But it was so dark, and he was so weary. He leaned his head against the dresser. His eyes began to close.

  No. No. Stay awake. He forced his eyes open. You can’t fall asleep. If you sleep, it will be over. Stay alert. Think about something. Do something. Anything.

  Albert began to sing. He sang “God Be with You,” his mother’s favourite hymn. He made up songs about his home on the farm in Ontario and walking up and down an English street with the Salvation Army band.

  He pictured playing his cornet again with the band. He imagined playing each note perfectly this time and his father beaming and shaking his hand. Albert had taken such care of his cornet. He’d shined it up the night before the trip. But it was gone now. And his fellow musicians? Many of them were probably gone, too. But his father had to make it. He couldn’t be …

  No! Don’t think about that, he told himself. Not now. Think of something else.

  Albert pictured Grace sitting at the piano in the music room, her fingers positioned to play. He remembered her laughing. He pictured them standing together on the deck of the Empress that night. He remembered how they’d called that dark ship a ghost ship.