L 24 LOCATED OFF PORTLAND BILL

SUNK IN 30 FATHOMS.

Yesterday what faint hope remained that some, at least, of the crew of Submarine L 24 – which was struck by the battleship Resolution off Portland Bill on Thursday – might be saved had, in face of the facts as then disclosed, to be abandoned.

Soon after noon the Admiralty announced that a wreck, believed to be the submarine, had been located 10 miles south-west of Portland Bill, in 30 fathoms of water, and that divers and salvage plant were ready to commence work as soon as the weather permitted. The finding of the craft was later confirmed, and divers were signalled for and sent out, but with weather reports indicating an impending gale it was very doubtful if they would be able even to attempt to descend to the wreck. Late last night it was announced that salvage operations had been abandoned till to-day.

To work at a depth of 180ft is about the limit of a diver’s capacity under the most favourable circumstances, and off Portland Bill last night the conditions were anything but favourable. Another fact which seems to seal the fate of the unfortunate crew is that an examination of the Resolution shows that her bow chain was cut right through, suggesting that the submarine must have been badly holed.

THE SEARCH.

The Press Association’s special representative near the scene of the disaster to the L 24 telegraphed last night:

The whereabouts of the ill-fated submarine have been positively established, and I am authoritatively informed that it is feared there is no chance at all of saving any of the crew. An examination of the Resolution shows unmistakably that the submarine must have been very badly holed. The bow chain of the battleship has been cut right through. While the battleship is not seriously damaged, the marks upon it make it perfectly clear that she must have struck the L 24 with tremendous force. That the impact felt was so slight is due simply to the overwhelming weight of the Resolution.

It is probable that the submarine was struck high up. This would explain why no oil rose to the surface, because the oil tanks are at the bottom of the vessel, in a position almost corresponding to the cellars of a house. If the submarine was struck high up with great force the extreme probability is that the end of the crew was as mercifully quick as it well could be. The salt water pouring in on all the batteries would create choking fumes, which would asphyxiate the men almost immediately. A consideration which leads the authorities to the belief that the unhappy men did not die a lingering death is the fact that no sound has been heard from the craft after it had sunk like a stone. Had any members of the crew been alive for any length of time sounds must have been picked up by the sensitive hydrophones of the “P” boats, which were immediately rushed from Portland Harbour.

The weather to-day, with the wind blowing half a gale, has been hard against the operations of the salvage boats, but they pursued their purpose with a persistency which at last received it reward. From the heights of Portland Bill one could see them, almost on the horizon, steaming slowly in pairs, sweeping and searching in the depths for some trace of the sunken vessel. They started at daybreak, but it was not until hours later that they struck an obstruction which proved to be the submarine. They lost it, then found it again, and finally, at 2.15, the message was wirelessed ashore that the position of the L 24 had been buoyed. She is lying in thirty fathoms of water at lat. 50.22¼ N., and long. 2.38 W.

DIVERS SENT OUT.

Very shortly after this first success a message was received ashore that the sea would permit of diving. Three divers were immediately sent out. At the time of writing, however, it is extremely doubtful whether they will be able to do anything. The weather reports of the late afternoon indicated an impending gale, and at six p.m. the wind was blowing hard.

The location of the submarine is perhaps the least difficult part of the salvage operations. The task facing the divers is most arduous and eerie. Working at a depth of thirty fathoms is about the limit of physical endurance. The divers will be plunged into complete gloom, not a ray of light penetrating to them. Their first task will be to ascertain whether there is the faintest possibility of life still being aboard. I understand that, even with favourable weather, the work of salvage must occupy several days. It is possible to work only during hours of slack tide. It would take half an hour to lower a diver. Assuming him to work at the bottom for one hour, it would take four hours to raise him, and then there would have to be another wait until the tide became favourable again. The method of raising the sunken vessel is by placing slings underneath from lighters strong enough to take her 1,000 tons weight, and then, very slowly, almost inch by inch, lifting her into shallower water.

I asked a naval officer to-day whether the salving would be continued even after every hope of life had been abandoned. In reply, he pointed out that no submarine sunk under such a depth has yet been salved. The only case on record in that of the K 13, but in this instance the depth of water in which she sank makes the circumstances of her salving impossible of comparison.