High Seas
The violent seas broke over our fo’castle, throwing the spray as high as the flying bridge, 100 feet above the water. It tore gun rails apart, lifted lifeboats from their fastenings, opened shell cases and did considerable all-around damage. Some good came of it—the first division men found no reason to wash down decks for some time to come.
The destroyers were unable to keep up with us, and it is remarkable that they stayed with us as long as they did. The sea proved too much for them. When caught in the trough formed by two high waves, hardly more than the top of their stacks and masts was discernible. They trailed behind us the entire next day, within radio call, and turned back upon receiving word from us that we were out of the danger zone. The danger from submarines was rather slight when it is considered how difficult a matter it would be for them to launch a torpedo accurately in a heavy sea.
We continued upon our course without event until off the Grand Banks of Newfoundland. Here we ran into a fog so thick that it was impossible to see our bow from the bridge, and every minute for eight hours of this day our steam fog whistle blew steadily, warning all nearby ships of our approach.
Nantucket Lightship, the first indication of land, was reported by one of the signal boys on the night of February 18th. Montauk Point and Shinnecock Lights soon followed and the next morning found us at the entrance to New York Harbor, our first overseas trip successfully completed.
The ship was brought up the river to the dock in the thickest fog seen for years. Capt. W. S. McLaughlin gauged the turn nicely and Capt. W. J. Bernard had a tug stationed at the end of Pier 4 to guide the Leviathan in by whistle signal. It was a highly creditable performance.