halt by sheer determination. An insane jangle filled the air.
Full Speed Astern.
Nillson turned back to the helm. Hansen stood there like a stone guardian outside a pagan temple.
"Damn it, I said hard astarboard!" Nillson shouted, his voice hoarse.
Hansen began to turn the wheel. Nillson couldn't believe his eyes. Hansen wasn't rotating the wheel to starboard, which would have given them a chance, even a slight one, to avoid a collision. He spun it slowly and deliberately to the left.
The Stockholm's bow swung into a deadly turn.
Nillson heard a foghorn, knew it must belong to the other ship.
The engine room was in chaos: The crew was frantically turning the wheel that would stop the starboard engine. They scrambled to open the valves that would reverse power and stop the port engine. The ship shuddered as braking took hold Too late. The Stockholm flew like an arrow at the unprotected ship.
In the port wing Nillson hung on grimly to the ship's telegraph.
Like Nillson, Captain Calamai had watched the masthead, lights materialize, reverse themselves, saw the red portside light glowing like a ruby on back velvet. Realized the other ship had made a sharp right turn directly into the Doria's path.
No warning. No foghorn or whistle.
Stopping was out of the question at this speed. The ship would need miles of room to skid to a halt.
Calamai had seconds to act. He could order a right turn,
directly toward the danger, hoping that the ships would brush each other. Maybe the speeding Maria could outrun the attacking ship..
Calamai made a desperate decision.
All left," he barked.
A bridge officer called out. Did the captain want the engines shut down? Calamai shook his head. "Maintain full speed." He knew the Doria turned better at higher velocity. .
In a blur of spokes the helmsman whipped the wheel around to port using both hands. The whistle shrieked twice to signal the left. turn. The big ship struggled against its forward momentum for a half mile before it heeled into the start of the turn.
The captain knew he was taking a big risk in exposing the Doria's broad side. He prayed that the other vessel would bear off while there was still time. He still couldn't believe the ships were on a collision course. The whole thing seemed like a dream.
A shout from one of his officers snapped him back to reality. "She's coming right at us]"
The oncoming ship was pointed at the starboard wing where Calamai watched in horror. The sharp upturned bow seemed to be aimed directly at him..
The Doria's skipper had a reputation for being tough and in control. But at that moment he did what any sane man would have done in his position. He ran for his life.
The Swedish ship's reinforced bow pierced the metal skin of the speeding Andrea Doria as easily as a bayonet, penetrating almost a third of the liner's ninetyfoot width before it came to rest.
With a weight of 29,100 tons, more than twice that of the Stockholm, the Italian liner dragged the vessel with it, pivoting around the point of impact below and aft of the starboard bridge wing. As the stricken Doria plunged ahead, the Stockholm's crumpled prow pulled free, ripping open seven of the liner's ten passenger decks like a raptor's beak tearing into the flesh of its victim. It scraped along the long black hull in a bright shower of sparks.
The gaping wedgeshaped hole that yawned in the Doria's side was forty feet at the top and narrowed to seven feet below sea level at the bottom.
Thousands of gallons of seawater rushed into the massive wound and filled empty outboard fuel tanks tom open in the collision. The ship tilted to the right under the weight of five hundred tons of seawater that flooded into the generator room. An oily river poured through an access tunnel and manholes and began to rise through the floor gratings of the engine room. The struggling engine crew slid on the
Full Speed Astern.
Nillson turned back to the helm. Hansen stood there like a stone guardian outside a pagan temple.
"Damn it, I said hard astarboard!" Nillson shouted, his voice hoarse.
Hansen began to turn the wheel. Nillson couldn't believe his eyes. Hansen wasn't rotating the wheel to starboard, which would have given them a chance, even a slight one, to avoid a collision. He spun it slowly and deliberately to the left.
The Stockholm's bow swung into a deadly turn.
Nillson heard a foghorn, knew it must belong to the other ship.
The engine room was in chaos: The crew was frantically turning the wheel that would stop the starboard engine. They scrambled to open the valves that would reverse power and stop the port engine. The ship shuddered as braking took hold Too late. The Stockholm flew like an arrow at the unprotected ship.
In the port wing Nillson hung on grimly to the ship's telegraph.
Like Nillson, Captain Calamai had watched the masthead, lights materialize, reverse themselves, saw the red portside light glowing like a ruby on back velvet. Realized the other ship had made a sharp right turn directly into the Doria's path.
No warning. No foghorn or whistle.
Stopping was out of the question at this speed. The ship would need miles of room to skid to a halt.
Calamai had seconds to act. He could order a right turn,
directly toward the danger, hoping that the ships would brush each other. Maybe the speeding Maria could outrun the attacking ship..
Calamai made a desperate decision.
All left," he barked.
A bridge officer called out. Did the captain want the engines shut down? Calamai shook his head. "Maintain full speed." He knew the Doria turned better at higher velocity. .
In a blur of spokes the helmsman whipped the wheel around to port using both hands. The whistle shrieked twice to signal the left. turn. The big ship struggled against its forward momentum for a half mile before it heeled into the start of the turn.
The captain knew he was taking a big risk in exposing the Doria's broad side. He prayed that the other vessel would bear off while there was still time. He still couldn't believe the ships were on a collision course. The whole thing seemed like a dream.
A shout from one of his officers snapped him back to reality. "She's coming right at us]"
The oncoming ship was pointed at the starboard wing where Calamai watched in horror. The sharp upturned bow seemed to be aimed directly at him..
The Doria's skipper had a reputation for being tough and in control. But at that moment he did what any sane man would have done in his position. He ran for his life.
The Swedish ship's reinforced bow pierced the metal skin of the speeding Andrea Doria as easily as a bayonet, penetrating almost a third of the liner's ninetyfoot width before it came to rest.
With a weight of 29,100 tons, more than twice that of the Stockholm, the Italian liner dragged the vessel with it, pivoting around the point of impact below and aft of the starboard bridge wing. As the stricken Doria plunged ahead, the Stockholm's crumpled prow pulled free, ripping open seven of the liner's ten passenger decks like a raptor's beak tearing into the flesh of its victim. It scraped along the long black hull in a bright shower of sparks.
The gaping wedgeshaped hole that yawned in the Doria's side was forty feet at the top and narrowed to seven feet below sea level at the bottom.
Thousands of gallons of seawater rushed into the massive wound and filled empty outboard fuel tanks tom open in the collision. The ship tilted to the right under the weight of five hundred tons of seawater that flooded into the generator room. An oily river poured through an access tunnel and manholes and began to rise through the floor gratings of the engine room. The struggling engine crew slid on the