History of the U.S.S. Leviathan

Eighth Overseas Voyage

The following is an extract copy of the readings in the ship’s log upon our leaving New York for the eighth trip overseas. This was on the 31st of August and for the second time the transports Great Northern and Northern Pacific accompanied us.

SHIP’S LOG

The ship’s log August 31st, 1918, Meridian to 4 P. M.
	Draft—Ford. 42´ 0´´, Aft. 40´ 10´´—Mean 41´ 5´´.
1:19 P. M.	Hauled out F. deck gangway.
1:26 P. M.	Let go all lines.
1:40 P. M.	Started astern.
1:47 P. M.	All clear of dock.
2:06 P. M.	Passed Statue of Liberty.
2:48 P. M.	Passed Governor’s Island.
3:08 P. M.	Passed Robbins Reef.
3:15 P. M.	Passed Staten Island.
3:38 P. M.	Entered Ambrose Channel.
3:59 P. M.	Passed Romer Shoal.
4 P. M. to 8 P. M.
4:25 P. M.	Passed fairway buoy.
4:38 P. M.	Stopped to discharge pilot and put paravanes over.
4:44 P. M.	Proceeded.
4:57 P. M.	Ambrose Channel Light Vessel abeam.
5:12 P. M.	Standard speed 130 revolutions.
5:29 P. M.	C/c (change course).
5:51 P. M.	Increased speed to 150 revolutions.
4-5 P. M.	Ave. rev. all shafts 78.1, steam 220 lbs., injection 70.
5-6 P. M.	Ave. rev. all shafts 121.2, steam 220 lbs., injection 74.
6-7 P. M.	Ave. rev. all shafts 140.3, steam 215 lbs., injection 72.
6:45 P. M.	Commenced zig-zag.
8 P. M. to Midnight
8:30 P. M.	Stopped zigzagging.
10:15 P. M.	Cut out boiler No. 3 in No. 2 fireroom and No. 7 in No. 4 fireroom.
8-9 P. M.	Ave. 2 rev. all shafts 150.1, steam 215 lbs.
9-10 P. M.	Ave. 2 rev. all shafts 150.0, steam 215 lbs.
10-11 P. M.	Ave. 2 rev. all shafts 150.1, steam 215 lbs.
11-12 P. M.	Ave. 2 rev. all shafts 149.9, steam 215 lbs.

Troops, 10,541; 142d Field Artillery; Evacuation Hospital No. 16; Base Hospital No. 54, Female; Base Hospital No. 63; Base Hospital No. 81; Base Hospital No. 82; Infantry Auto Replacement Draft; 59th Pioneer Infantry; 808th Pioneer Infantry; Colonel Wm. G. Ownbey.

Upon our reaching Sandy Hook the pilot boat approached and launched a small row boat which made for our gangway. This boat came to get the pilot who had seen us safely through the channel, and to take him to another ship coming into New York. Pilot McLoughlin waved good-bye to the troops on board and was cheered as he left.

Immediately before proceeding to sea the paravanes were lowered over the ship’s side. The paravanes are ingenious torpedo-shaped contrivances so constructed as to fend off from the ship’s side dangerous floating objects such as mines. The upper section of a paravane is equipped with a jaw-shaped arrangement, so made as to clip the cable extending between a mine and its anchor. The “P. V.’s,” as they are sometimes called, are launched over the side from the forward part of the vessel and while in the water are supported by a wire cable from the deck of the ship and by a heavy chain extending upward from the keel.

We were now fully set and ready for our voyage, the Great Northern taking up a position on our starboard beam and the Northern Pacific on our port beam. The three ships in line presented a formidable appearance as they plowed the smooth seas at a rate of twenty knots per hour. Zigzag plans were communicated to the Great Northern and Northern Pacific by the Leviathan, the senior ship, and from dawn to dark on this day and every day thereafter until reaching port all three ships, upon the ringing of the zigzag clock, sheered off simultaneously, first to port, then to starboard, then to port again, the zigzag pennant on our yard-arm dipping as each change of course was made.

On September 2d, the Captain of the Great Northern signaled to us that his aft gun crew had sighted the feather of a periscope about two miles astern of us, which had disappeared almost immediately and so no shots were fired at her.

A few days later, through signals exchanged between ourselves and the Great Northern, we learned that we were to lose Captain Bryan upon reaching New York, and that Captain Phelps of the Great Northern was to be his successor. Captain Bryan, we learned, was to take up a station somewhere in Brazil.

Stormy weather hindered our progress on the fourth day out. The seas were so heavy that both the Great Northern and Northern Pacific found great difficulty in keeping up with us. Finally, the Northern Pacific signaled to us that because of the seas she could make little progress and asked that the standard speed for the convoy be reduced to thirteen knots. This was granted and for fourteen hours the three ships labored in the heavy seas, spray breaking over the fo’castle and reaching to our forward smoke-stack. Toward evening the sea moderated sufficiently to allow the Great Northern and Northern Pacific to increase speed to sixteen and a half knots and then to twenty knots, until we picked up our escort of four destroyers at the ocean rendezvous.

All seven ships proceeded to Brest by the shortest route and in a fairly smooth sea. The Leviathan was shaken by an extremely heavy explosion and its suddenness surprised the men. The Chief Engineer reported everything O.K. down below and as far as we could see on deck there was nothing wrong with the ship; then the blinker light on the destroyer McDougal directly abeam of us, was observed flashing a message to us, which explained everything. The McDougal had accidentally dropped a depth charge from her stern. It wasn’t the first false alarm we had had and it was not to be the last.

Land was sighted on the afternoon of September 7th, and swiftly and smoothly the three transports ran into column formation, with the destroyers abeam and ahead of us, steaming majestically into the harbor of Brest. Looking around after mooring we saw the huge transport Mt. Vernon, formerly the German liner Kronprinzessin Cecilie, lying in dry dock after running a 250-mile race against threatened disaster. She had been torpedoed at eight o’clock the morning before and only the gallantry of her captain and crew, and the efficient system of water-tight doors, enabled her to make port at a speed of fifteen knots. It was indeed remarkable that we had escaped seeing “subs” the day before, for our course was almost identical with that of the Mt. Vernon’s. The Mt. Vernon was repaired and thereafter made two round trips to America and did its “bit” in bringing our soldier boys home.

To give the reader a fair idea of the ship’s routine on entering Brest and while coaling in the harbor, we again quote from the log of the ship:

6 P. M. to 8 P. M.
6:05 P. M.	Pt Du Minou abeam.
6:10 P. M.	Mengam lighthouse abeam.
6:20 P. M.	Pte Du Portzic lighthouse abeam.
6:27 P. M.	Harbor pilot came aboard, proceeded to buoy.
6:30 P. M.	Advanced clocks one hour. Engines working as required.
8 P. M. to Midnight
8:02 P. M.	Arrived at buoy; proceeded to moor ship.
8:33 P. M.	Ship moored and engines secured.
8:36 P. M.	Secured steering engines.
	Draft on arrival 36.7´´ forward, 39.5´´ aft.
	Mooring bearings—Pte du Petite Minou, 258½°; Pte de l’Ile Longue, 191.5°; Pt du Portzic, 278.50.
9:00 P. M.	Commenced to unload cargo; continued throughout watch. Lighter Knickerbocker placed coaling stages on port and starboard sides.
12:00 Midnight.	Three lighters with coal arrived alongside.
	Coaling until 4 A. M.
1:15 A. M.	Commenced coaling on starboard side.
1:30 A. M.	Commenced coaling on port side.
	Discharging cargo throughout watch.
4 to 8 A. M.
	Continued coaling and discharging cargo.

The disembarkation of troops and cargo was completed in short order and the Leviathan put to sea once more on the 12th of September. The bodies of thirty-six victims of the Mt. Vernon were on board, each body being draped with the flag which they had heroically died for. These thirty-six victims were trapped in the fire-room of the Mt. Vernon when the torpedo struck her and they had no chance to escape before the water filled the lower compartments. The loss of life would not have been so great had not the ship been torpedoed at a time when the fire-room watches were being relieved, for at such time there are almost double the number of men in the fire-rooms.

Our voyage back was interrupted but once. The Great Northern on our starboard, on the 13th of September, reported a periscope two miles astern of us and traveling to the southward. It disappeared almost as quickly as the periscope encountered on the eastern trip, and consequently no shots were fired at it. A vigilant watch maintained by the lookouts was without result, the submarine did not show itself again. On the 19th of September we were safe in New York Harbor and docked six minutes after the first line was ashore, a record achievement in the log of the capable and efficient docking superintendent, Capt. Walter J. Bernard.