Some Experiences

Eugenio Gambassi (56)

He was the Italian viceconsul in the Argentine city of Parana. He had stayed on the Mafalda until the last moment. He had gone to the captain when the accident had first occurred and had been reassured that there was nothing to worry about and that, at worst, the ship would have to be towed to Rio. Gabassi remained on the deck, with a revolver in his pocket, finger on the trigger ready to suicide when all hope was lost. Shortly after 9pm, it became clear that the sinking was near, and he pointed the revolver at his chest. Someone seized the gun out of his hand. He was thus forced to take his chances in the water. He clutched onto a piece of floating wood and stayed afloat until the next morning when he was picked up by the Rosetti. Also on the flotsam were four women and three children. He said that one of the women and one of the children were seized by an enormous shark. Gambassi stated that he felt that the captain and first engineer had committed suicide. He concluded this because he heard shots from the bridge where both were located.

I was contacted more recently by his great-great granddaughter. who corrected his name from the original incorrect spelling of Gabassi. The family history of Eugenio is that: "Eugenio was an atheist before the tragedy, and that at some point he had lost a little daughter named Amalia... After the sinking, he was at the sea with another man, and he saw people around being eaten by sharks. Apparently, they left him alone bc he was wearing black, or that's what my greatgrandfather used to tell... Anyhow, he was contemplating killing himself, as salvation seemed so far away... But then he had a vision of his dead daughter, and she told him to follow her. That's how he saved himself, I've been told... When he got on land, he converted himself to the Catholic Church and baptized all of his kids. They all lived in the city of Ponta Grossa, in Parana. Part of the family still do, such as my grandmother, my father and my uncle".

Mario Ottaviani

An Italian of 23 years of age travelling to Argentina on business. "Even though I had immediately placed the lifejacket when the accident occurred (all the passengers had received orders to place the jackets and go to their pre-allocated places on deck in case of a sinking), I remained on board the ship until moments before it sank. This attitude of mine, very explicable, taking into account that I could swim, permitted me to witness some very impressive events. I never suspected that there would follow such an occurrence. An intense panic dominated both the men and women, and except with a few exceptions, all were trying to defend their lives in the anxious situation.

"It is certain that Captain Gulli and some of the officers of the liner realised superhuman efforts to impose order and discipline, this effort only had effect for a few moments. The passengers of third class and the crew were the ones responsable for turning the situation into anarchy. They committed acts unfitting for civilised people. They pushed into the lifeboats and took possession of them by violence, without thinking anything of the women and children that were clamouring for aid.

" When I perceived that the sink was finally going to sink, and I saw no other solution than to cast myself into the water if I wanted to save my soul, there still were 60 women and children on the decks and around 200 men. As I hit the water the strap of the lifebelt broke, but this did not prove an obstacle to me swimming to the Formosa that was around one mile distant from the Mafalda.

Pascual Pecci

The comments of the second class passenger, Pascual Pecci, are interesting. He managed to survive with his wife daughter. He said that Guli had been mistaken in thinking that the ship would stay afloat until the next day. His advice had been instrumental in lulling the first class passengers into a sense of false security. Pecci was not so convinced and managed to get away his family group from the ship early in the sinking. He also claimed that many of the dramatic reports of survivors were figments of the imagination and sought to create drama where there was none. With regards to the the sharks, he was very dubious that they existed and felt that the story was the result of several having been seen “following”the ship in previous days. One may also suspect here that the “sharks” were dolphins and in the days before wildlife documentaries the general public did not know the difference between the two. We have not heard of sharks “following” ships. As for the dramas of the rescue he claimed that for many who got away, the event was as dramatic as a day in the Tigre (a popular riverside resort near Buenos Aires where rowing was practised).

Patricio de Rosas

Patricio de Rosas, an Argentine travelling with his wife, related to the press his experience. He had occasion on several moments to comment on the state of the ship during the voyage due to the numerous prooblems that had occurred and the perpetual list of the ship. A little after leaving Genoa, he had conversed with Anotnio Zanni, manager of the Hotel Savoia of Capilla del Monte in Cordoba and learned that the mechanics had been reparing various breakdowns. Roisas asked Zanni if the chief of engineers had said that it was completely repaierd and had received the answer that it only needed a little work and that this could be done in the course of the voyage.

Rosas started to get worried. One day he was taking a morning walk on the deck and met Antonio Fontana, a Uruguayan passenger, that related his concerns about the danger they were running. It then occurred to them to raise a collective protest amongst the passengers to present to the captain. urging that the voyage be suspended. They then started speaking to other passengers about the petition. Another passenger Camilo Rivarola cautioned against making such a complaint as it would only result in making them enemies of the captain. Antonio Fontana lost his brother, Eduardo, in the sinking.

Ali Hassen

An Arab of 45 years of age travelling to Argentina with his three cousins, that perished in the wreck. He related that when he saw the gravity of the situation, given the steep list to the stern, he went to the deck and together with 50 others threw himself into a life boat. This vessel, due to the weight of the crowd, sank. Returning to the surface, he found a short distance away a piece of wood, to which he desperately clung. There he remained floating for four hours. When he had lost all hope having bumped many times against the hull of one of the rescue ships without being noticed he found a rope, clung to it, and in short while noticed that he was being hauled up, finding himself presently aboard the Alhena.

Pedro Volpi

An italian agricultural worker of 33 years of age. He affirmed that the captain had said that the ship would remain afloat until the following day and thus he had remained aboard until the last moment. When he perecived that the sinking was imminent he tossed himself into the sea with a lifejacket. There he remained some time, helped by the third engineer of the Mafalda, that swimming, led him to a boat that took him to the Formosa. He added that the engineer, to whom he owed his life, continued his work saving in short order two other companions. Volpi stated that he had not seen any sharks, but that the night was very dark.

Maria Spinelli

An Italian passenger in third class. " I cannot explain how it was". At 5 p.m., approximately, I was washing in my cabin. I heard a brusque noise and instinctively went up to the deck, meeting with a travelling companion, Teresa Forggia that was travelling with her son, Mario Olivero, of three years. The people were running; the boat commenzed to list and, by instinct we sheltered ourselves in a corner of the deck. I do not know how long we were there. We remained in the darkness and a man came up to us, I do not know if he was a crewmember or what, and he made us get into a boat; but my fear was greater when at 30 centimetres from the water, the ropes broke at the side of the boat and we nearly fell into the sea. Happily, moments later we found ourselves on the Alhena. My trials do not end there. When we arrived at Ilha de las Flores (the immigrant centre at Rio), such was my haste to disembark, that I misstepped on the gangplank and fell into the water. A sailor grabbed me by the hair and pulled me to the surface.

After having made three trips to South America, I have resolved to stay here forever and never return to Italy.

Antonio Ponce

An Italian of 39 years travelling with his cousin, Alfio Sanfilippo. "When we saw that the ship was listing and sinking by the stren, we threw ourselves into the sea and managed to get on board a lifeboat where there were at least 30 passengers. We considered ourselves saved until we were twenty metres from the Alhena and the anxiety of one of my companions made the boat tip over. I searched fruitlessly for my companion believing him under the waves or seized by a shark (of which I had seen two) when searching through the poeple lying on the deck of the Alhena, I found my cousin Alfio. We were born again and here we are in Argentina again and I am disposed to continue washing cars as on my previous stay in Buenos Aires at the garage at the corner of Peña y Jose E. Uriburu.

Salvador Malone

" The first indication that I had of the catastrophe was a brusque tremor of the liner which was followed by an indescribable confusion amongst the third class passengers. In the midst of weeping and cries of terror, dominated by panic nearly all the passengers ran to save ourselves. I arrived at the site of the propeller and could see that the water was invading the compartments. I ran then to the deck and could take the third lifeboat that was launched but at scarcely a few metres from the Mafalda, the life boat turned over. I grabbed a cable and was able to get back onto the Mafalda, but it was too late to get myself a place in another lifeboat. I opted then to cast myself back into the sea and did this after shedding my clothes. Then XXX. Already in the water, I swam until I discovered a launch. It was carrying more than 30 people and because of this also tipped over, but by swimming, I was able to arrive, though with no strength left to the Alhena, where from on-board I witnessed the final tragedy seeing Captain Gulli on the bridge when the boat sank, bidding farewell with a Viva Italia!".

When asked if he had seen sharks Malone replied in the negative but said that he had seen a man floating in the water with a destroyed leg certainly by the jaws of one of these fishes.

Milhem Solk

An Arab from Beirut of 35 years of age on his third voyage to Argentina. "Of the sinking, thanks to being a good swimmer, I can recall minute details. I can assure that the Principessa Mafalda sailed nearly all the day with a list towards one side, when at 4.30 p.m. there was a deafening noise. The majority of my companions spoke neither Italian nor Spanish. I asked numerous sailors what had happened and no-one could give me a reason until finally, until when I saw that all the crew were getting into the boats, I threw myself into the water. I swam for I don’t know how long with a lifejacket until I suddenly felt a strong blow to the back of the skull. Instinctively I raised my arms and there was a rope. Later I found myself on the Alhena. They had pulled me up with a rope.

Teresa Forggia de Olivero

Travelling with her son, Mario of three years, from Genoa to meet her husband Mario Olivero in Buenos Aires. She related that her friend Maria Spinelli, was among the first to obtain a place in a lifeboat. As there was not space for her, she tossed her child to Maria, resigning herself to remaining on the Mafalda. However, one of the crew forced her to go down the ladder and get into the same boat as her friend, which plunged into the water, being picked up, fortunately by the rowers that led it to the side of the Alhena.

Vincenzo Mandolezzi

I felt at around 5 p.m. a very strong noise like great chains breaking and heard directly afterwards the voice of command given by the officers to stay calm and ordered that each one take their lifebelt. The Principessa Mafalda began to list. I waited about one and a half hours, lost in the confusion on board, until I resolved to cast myself into the water in view of the deteriorating condition on board the liner. There in the sea, I swam a little until I reached one of the Maflada’s boats, that was not in good condition. We had to row with our hands, the nine poeple that were in the boat. The Alhena awaited us.

Enrico Nazzeconi

I was on board the Mafalda until 9.50 pm. When I saw the frightening list to starboard had arrived at an extreme state, I ran towards the stern where the water reached to my knees. Then I tossed myself into the water. Immediately there were three blasts of the siren, followed by a horrendous estrepito. The night was very dark and I could not see the ship as it sank. In the water I saw an Arab passenger, struggling to get into a launch. It appeared to me, near as he was, that he wanted to give me a chain or relgious token. He pronounced a few brief words and then disappeared. I felt like I had no strength. I could soon arrive at a thin rope that was stretched from the stren to the prow of the Alhena, facilitating the rescue. I would not have been able to remain afloat if a companion that was already on board had not lent me help at the ladder.

Alfio Sanfilippo

An Italian immigrant on his first trip to Argentina confirmed that he threw himself into the water at 6pm with his brother and an officer of the Mafalda. As nearly all the lifeboats of the Mafalda had capsized, they had to cling onto the keel of one of the boats. They were eight hours in the water until the Empirestar drew near and picked them up.

"I saw no sharks, But I saw the body of a woman that floated clutching a baby in her arms."

Domenico Leo

An Italian immigrant. "I do not know if it was a shark but it was an enormous fish that passed rapidly at our side when I and seven or eight others clung to the keel of a lifeboat. As my companion felt injured, or something, he made a cry and disappeared in the water. Y did not see him again. Y hope he did not die, but that horrible scream and his disappearance had a disastrous effect on me."

Batista Beria

An Italian immigrant on his third voyage to Argentina. " It was cold in the water, but I did not feel it. The Mafalda sank just as I threw myself in the water. I was swimming to the Alhena together with an Italian companion, that did not stop talking to me whilst swimming. This exhausted me with his unintelligible banter. The rope hanging from the Dutch ship allowed me to get up easily. I did not see sharks, even though there were enormous fish to be seen on the morning of the day after the sinking. During the two hours that I swam I saw scenes of horror : some mothers desperate, in the water appeared by illumination of the search lights. I heard gutwrenching screams, without being able to see where they came from. Ones who could not swim well, clutched desperately at the clothing of those that were in front of them.

Domingo Milano

An Italian of 14 years travelling alone whose father and brothers lived in Argentina. He was a good swimmer. When he saw the liner about to go under he dived off the bow of the Mafalda and started to swim towards the Alhena which was at a considerable distance. He remained two hours in the water and was at the point of surrendering to the deep, when a boat loaded with survivors passed by. Making a last effort he clucthed at one of the oars clinging to this until he arrived at the Alhena.

Angelo Uccelli

An Italian from Piedmont travelling in third class. " I threw myself in the sea. It was impossible to get near to the ladder to the boats and after trying in vain to do so, I had to opt to save myself by swimming. I was in the water for one and a half hours before reaching a launch from the Formosa. There were five passengers, seven crew and an officer of the Mafalda. When I got on board the Formosa it was 10pm. I saw no sharks.

Valeriano Galli

An Italian batchelor of 26 years that had been in Argentina several times. Like much of the third class he was amongst those first into the boats. The boat collapsed under the weight and he was thrown into the water. This started a great struggle to get to the Alhena amongst those tossed in the water. He spent two hours in the water before being picked up by one of the boats of the Alhena. " I am a good swimmer and this saved me. During the time that I was in the water I saw various sharks, which by fortune did not get me. At a few metres from me, a shark woumded another companion who later died after being hauled aboard the rescue ship.

Galli was highly critical of the crew and officers of the Mafalda, noting in contrast the action of a passenger that saved various companions. He later realised that this was the Argentine naval cadet, Juan Santororo, when he was carried through the port on the shoulders of the crowd.

Nicola Lynose

A Yugoslav immigrant. He related that the passengers in third class were very close to the crew and were conscious of the risks that the ship was running. He signalled that the fears had nearly dissipated by the afternoon of the accident. Ironically, the passengers were filled with optimism by the speed at which the Mafalda passed the Alhena on that afternoon. "When the ship passed the Empirestar, Captain Gulli saluted it with a long blast of the ships siren. We were two kilometres from the Britsih ship when I heard the first crunch that shook the Mafalda intensely. The fear returned and all ran to the storage room to get the lifebelts. On returning to the deck we found the crew in a mad frenzy throwing themselves into the boats that were already drawing away from the liner. Then the immigrants, blind with fear, dumped three boats into the sea. They then piled into them in such a disorgainsed way that they capsized. Others ran to the first class where the words of the captain made them trust until the last moment.

Half an hour before the sinking, the crashing and smashing of furniture, china and glassware filled us with a frenzy that we were still on board. Everyone threw themselves in the water. There only remained on board the women and the children and the men who were overcome by terror. The lack of confidence amongst the passengers was intense. I never thought that men could fear other men so strongly. I confess that the most intense struggle was not with the waves but with the floating passengers that, not knowing how to swim, clung onto those at their side issuing desperate screams. One heard oaths in all the languages.

To advance it was necessary to get away from the others in the water that were forming a human barrier. I swam from 7pm till 22.30pm. I found in my progress, passengers that had lifebelts but were drowning in the waves. I made the simple recommendation to turn their heads. Soon in the darkness of the night, I saw two people that kept themselves afloat and pushing them, I managed to get them to a boat that I found nearby. When the crew of the boat picked them out, they found they were lifeless.

Andres Scavani del Vicario

A young Italian travelling in first class. He had not paid much attention to the events until he saw the third class in a frenzy. "When the Mafalda started to list to port the greater part of the passengers head to this side making the problem more critical. I ran then to starboard secured a rope to the rail and I was watching for the opportunity to use one of the few launches that were going about rescuing people. I was accompanied by the photographer of the Mafalda, with whom I had become friendly on the voyage. The ship went down slowly and losing hope, I hung onto the rope, which was still a great distance from the water. The situation did not lend itself to vacillation and I let myself fall, and was followed by my companion, who did not lose his aplomp or good humour despite the tragedy of the situation. The whirlpool caused by the total sinking of the Mafalda swept us far from the location of the wreck, pushing us near to the Formosa, from which no-one saw us due to the terrible darkness that envelopped everything. After three hours in the water, the valient crew of the French ship heard our cries and fished us out.

The photo above is very rare, being probably the only photo taken on board to have survived. This shows Del Vicario and Emma (Clotilde?) Basile on the day before the disaster.

Del Vicario was instrumental in the rescue of Clotilde Basile, who has received a blow to the foot which had stopped her from abandoning the Mafalda, and she rewarded him with a wallet as a present. Here they are in Rio after their rescue.

The Vacelli family

Travelling with his wife and three children of 15, 13 and 10 years of age. " In the first moments of the accident that resulted in the sinking of the Mafalda, when it was known that the ship would eventually sink, there was a great confusion. Hundreds of passengers from third class were overwhelmed by such a panic that they became wild animals, losing their sense of judgement. They advanced desperately like a terrified mass, the assault on the boats, with many of them bearing knifes that surely in more than one case were used against other passengers. It was "sauve qui peut" without sense, frightening that obliged the passengers of first and second class to remain paralysed watching the terrible struggle played out before them. My husband, I and my children remained on the stern waiting for the moment of our salvation. The hours passed with a preoccupation that you can imagine, under the impression of all the tragedies that were going on around us. The situation of the Mafalda was every moment more critical, tipping more and more. My husband tried to calm us down, assuring us that we had time to save ourselves.

At 9.30, arrived the moment of deliverance: a boat of the Empirestar drew near to the ladder where we had been waiting. We were able to get into the boat with my husband and children and shortly afterwards were on the deck of the British ship. I think that we were the last to abandon the Mafalda as scarecly had we arrived at the Empirestar that we noticed that the Mafalda had disappeared. I think that the captain of the Mafalda behaved himself like a hero and that all the officials behaved with heroism and honour. In relation to the crew, there was no doubt that many had let themselves be overwhelmed by panic in company of the third class passengers. However, many stayed on board and helped saved the passengers. I record the noble comportment of the first officer and the first engineer that made unaudited efforts to save numerous passengers and contributed to maintaining the discipline and tranquility.

In their majority, my companions of the first class paid the tribute of their lives.

Fiorita Forciniti

Yo nací en Corigliano, provincia de Cosenza, Calabria, el 27 de noviembre de 1916. Mi padre ya estaba establecido en Buenos Aires con mis dos hermanos mayores. El 11 de octubre del 27 embarcamos en Génova con mi madre y otros dos hermanos. Teníamos que haber salido el 10 por la mañana, pero como el barco ya había llegado con muchos problemas, se atrasó 27 horas -nos cuenta la señora Forciniti, agregando que durante toda la travesía la nave se mantuvo peligrosamente escorada, navegando a marcha muy lenta.-La inclinación era de tal magnitud que por las mañanas no podíamos apoyar las tazas con el café con leche porque se volcaba el contenido. Todos los pasajeros estaban nerviosos, pero como nosotros viajábamos en tercera clase nos daban menos explicaciones. A medida que nos acercábamos al Brasil, los problemas se multiplicaron. En varias ocasiones pararon las máquinas en un vano intento de reparar una grave avería en la hélice.-¿Cuándo tomaron ustedes cabal conocimiento del grave riesgo que corrían?-Al anochecer de aquel nefasto 25 de octubre. Se escuchó algo así como una explosión. El barco detuvo su marcha y quedó totalmente a oscuras. Poco antes otros barcos se habían acerca ofreciendo cooperación al capitán del Principessa Mafalda, pero éste pensó que se podría llegar, sin ayuda, a Río de Janeiro.-¿Se hundió rápidamente?-En minutos. El agua entraba a raudales por debajo del casco, por un rumbo enorme. Nos dijeron que la hélice se había partido destrozando todo a su paso.-¿Qué hizo su madre?-Además de rezar, como muchos otros pasajeros, ordenarnos que nos quedáramos a su lado.Mejor morir los cuatro juntos, repetía a cada momento. Me parece ver todavía al capitán, revólver en mano, gritar a todo pulmón, en medio de una gran confusión, las donnas y los bambinos primero.

Hubo escenas dramáticas, de abnegación, pero recuerdo a muchos hombres empujar a las mujeres y a los chicos para ganar un lugar en los botes. Nosotros pudimos subir a uno, el Hellen, de bandera holandesa, había marineros que descendían por las escaleras de cuerdas y nos subían a los chicos adentro de una bolsa. Otro barco, el Formosa, francés, se acercó lo suficiente y con dos potentes reflectores iluminaba el lugar.Doña Flora recuerda que los desembarcaron en Río de Janeiro y que hasta allí fue a buscarlos otro barco italiano, el Duque De LAbrusezze, para depositar a todos los náufragos en el puerto de Buenos Aires, donde se había dado cita una multitud.-Allí estaban mi padre y mis hermanos, desesperados por la noticia del naufragio. Había un diario, creo que Crítica, que ofreció iniciar una colecta para todos los que nos habíamos salvado, teniendo en cuenta que todo lo habíamos perdido. En aquellos tiempos los inmigrantes protagonizaban verdaderas mudanzas con sus baúles. Pero la Embajada de Italia se opuso. Dijo que todos los gastos correrían por cuenta del gobierno de Italia. Jamás recibimos ni siquiera una cacerola. Había un bazar, creo que Pedro Bignoli, que le regaló a cada familia un juego de vajillas.Doña Flora se casó, finalmente, en Buenos Aires, por supuesto con un calabrés. Ella tenía 15 años y él 18. Como su padre tenía, con sus dos hermanos, un puesto de verdura en el Mercado de Abasto, se fue a vivir en la zona y allí conoció a Gardel.

Alfredo Sigotti

Alfredo Sigotti actualmente (in 2009) tiene 86 años. Entonces Sigotti tenía apenas cinco años y había partido desde Génova a América junto a su familia. Los Sigotti eran oriundos de Pusca y se trasladaron hasta Génova para embarcarse en el Mafalda en busca de sus sueños que creían estaban en esta parte de América.

La familia estaba integrada por los padres y sus tres pequeños hijos varones, entre los cuales Alfredo era el del medio. En diálogo con Rony Vargas, el octogenario contó el día en que ocurrió el naufragio: "Mi padre buscaba la salida y no había más botes. Bajamos en el último de ellos y cada uno tenía lugar para 50 personas y viajaban 70 arriba".

"Luego del naufragio nos vinimos a Buenos Aires y nos quedamos unos dos días en el Hotel de los Inmigrantes -contó-. Después unos parientes que teníamos en Camilo Aldao (Córdoba) nos fueron a buscar".

En Camilo Aldao el padre de la familia Sigotti se dedicó al campo siempre como obrero. Luego Alfredo se trasladó a General Baldissera donde vive desde hace 82 años. Tiene dos hijos, nietos y cuatro bisnietos.

Una vida de trabajo y de felicidad que forjó a pesar de que el destino parecía que le tenía jugada una mala pasada.

The Bulgarinis

En San Vicente subieron dos nuevos pasajeros, casi náufragos rescatados, con una sabrosa historia para contar a sus nuevos compañeros de travesía. Eran el doctor Luis Bulgarini y su hermana Elsa, ambos argentinos, que semanas atrás se habían embarcado en el “Matrero” con el propósito de regresar a Buenos Aires. Días después, y en medio del atlántico, estallaron las calderas del buque. El accidente tuvo dos siniestras consecuencias: dejó al “Matrero” sin medios de propulsión y arruinó de paso el equipo de radiotelegrafía, dejándolos incomunicados del resto del mundo. Así anduvieron seis días a la deriva, aterrorizados ante lo incierto de su destino, a merced de que una tormenta o un escollo terminara con ellos sin posibilidades de salvación, mientras la disciplina del barco se resquebrajaba visiblemente bajo los golpes del miedo. Finalmente un ángel salvador –que para el caso tomó la forma de buque italiano- los rescató del mar y los devolvió a San Vicente sanos y salvos.

El doctor Bulgarini narró detalladamente las horas de espanto vividas. No veía el momento de encontrarse otra vez en Buenos Aires pisando el seguro asfalto de sus calles. Pero ahora estaba tranquilo: el “Mafalda” no era el “Matrero”; ofrecía las máximas garantías al pasaje; no cabía duda de que el terror pasado en aquel no se repetiría dos veces…

Marko Oreb Gobica

Fani Padovan relates the story of her Croatian grandfather. He came from the town of Vela Luka in Croatia (the Yugoslavia). Interestingly, all ten people from this little village who were on the Principessa Mafalda, survived the sinking. Some of them stayed in Argentina and some returned home. One of those that returned to Croatia was Fani's grandfather. He told her that he jumped into the sea amongst the last passengers to exit the ship, His comment on the sharks was that by that point they weren't hungry anymore...!

The Fontana Canevaro Brothers

We received this story from Maria Gabriela Fontana Saita, of Colonia in Uruguay. "Dos pasajeros, Antonio (fallecido) y Eduardo (sobreviviente) eran hermanos de mi bisabuelo Felipe Fontana Canevaro.De acuerdo a lo que mi abuela,nos coto, (hoy fallecida), Antonio, iba a dar un concierto de piano a los reyes, y por eso iban en el barco. Ocurrido el accidente, Juan se salva, pues era joven, pero muy canoso y los subieron a un bote. Llamaba a su hermano, pero éste, prefirio quedarse en dicho barco, leyendo la biblia. La ultima imagen de Eduardo, fue ver a Antonio, leyendo, mientras el barco se hundia.

Una vez en tierra, y pasado un tiempo, comenzo a escribir a conventos, etc. pensando siempre, que su hermano se hubiese salvado, a pesar, de verlo hundirse junto al Principessa Mafalda. Eran todos de Genova,incluso mi bisabuelo,de Rapalo exactamente, y se habian radicado en Nueva Palmira.

Guerino Benini

This survivor made a quite colloquial report of his adventure.

Near the end is an interesting aside on how the sloppiness of the Brazilian record takers ended up giving survivors new identities and misreported who had survived and who had died. He also speaks of his friend Andrea in Second Class. The only Andrea recorded in Second Class was Andrea del Vicario, who was a survivor (but on another rescue ship). So maybe a shark did not take him after all.

Here is his report:

"I’ve got the ticket! Back home, big celebrations, we have made it!

While waiting to leave I go back to my work. Among the family, big projects. October arrives at last and the day of departure approaches. All my siblings escort me to Genoa to the boarding, we are all excited like kids. They’re all harbouring hopes to join me there and start a new life.

Chin up, guys, be brave, we’ll make it!

I board the ship and head to take my space in third class.

I had never seen a thing like this. A human heap, below deck you must do with settling where you can. Third class cabins are holes. One beside the other like animals.

You haven’t got a space for yourself. To breath fresh air you have to go up the desk taking turns. The stench down there is suffocating. When you return below deck you must do with the hole you can find. Food is terrible: today pasta and chickpeas, a piece of bread and a little steak four fingers long, hard like the sole of a shoe. As dessert, a lemon, because of scurvy, they say.

Water is rationed, just about enough. Seasickness is terrible but I’m getting used to it.

The ship seems to have troubles. Ugly rumours are spreading.

We have stopped in the middle of the sea for two days, now heading to-wards Spain. There are troubles with the propeller and motors get switched off a few times. We lose couple of days, the fault is repaired and we go again. Later, again motors trouble, we proceed with just one. The remaining motor stops working and we are drifted an entire day for the repairs. Another fault, drifting again. Two days of stops. Food is horrible, as if gone bad.

I see Andrea and he says:

"Look on the left, they are throwing all we have in the fridges. It’s all gone bad. There’s been an electrical fault. Can you see that coast on the horizon? It’s Africa, we’re going to Dakar to have motor, propellers and sprockets fixed, that’s what’s causing the rolling. We’ll replenish our food stock over there".

It’s not a good start. Luckily Andrea often brings me a plate of food from second class.

"Andrea I didn’t know the ship was in such bad conditions. Have all your sea journeys been this catastrophic?"

"No, Guerino, just this, the previous ones were smooth and merry. A waiter told me this is the Mafalda’s last voyage before they decommission it".

We take leave of each other and I go back below, hoping to be able to sleep without nightmares. Now the catering is decent. Days go by and we approach to Brazil, Rio de Janeiro.

A ship flanks us and takes over. It’s the Alhena.

After half an hour, we hear a loud roar, the entire ship shakes.

We go up on the deck. All panicking and asking questions. The ship continues to sail at a reduced speed. The rolling is strong and the ship is leaking water. A propeller got dislodged and by rotating has opened a breach in the hull! We are leaking. The ship tilts sideway, everybody panics. The lifeboats dropped from the left side get sunk by the ship capsizing. Sailors use guns to keep panicked people under control. They devote themselves to save women and children in a huge confusion. Lifeboats are dropped. So much people get on them that some, as soon as lowered on the water, sink under the excessive weight. From the first class we hear gunshots, Andrea tells me it’s frightened people committing suicide. Life preservers are distributed. I manage to get on one of the last lifeboats with Andrea. We help two women with three children, there are twenty-five of us in the lifeboat…

The ship Alhena, received the SOS signal, has approached and dropped lifeboats in the sea to save people in the water. They’ve lowered ropes and thrown life preservers. Many throw themselves in the sea in terror without a lifejacket, relying on their swimming.

Meanwhile, the Mafalda raises vertically and goes down.

Luckily Andrea and I are far away, as the big wave has dragged with it everything that is close: wreckage, lifeboats and people. The lifeboat we are on, too heavy, sinks. Luckily I can swim. We are lighted up by one of Alhena’s searchlights.

I’m close to Andrea, I see a wreckage and I help to reach it. I climb on it, Andrea is exhausted, he manages to grab it. It’s a door.

I seize the handle and the clothes hook on the side above. I take the thick rope belt from my trousers and I tie it to that and to my wrist. A rescue boat is close by. I’m helping Andrea to climb up, he grabs my foot, I’m pulling him up on the door. He screams. A shark takes him down. I see the dorsal of the shark that takes him and drags him. Nothing left but praying. At last I’m rescued. I get on one of our rescuers’ lifeboat, there’s ten of us. Exhausted. We’re closer and closer to the Alhena, they have thrown us ropes, we grab them and we’re lifted to safety inside the ship.

We’re all knackered, laying down, terror still in our eyes. The rescuers are Dutch. They give us towels and dry clothes. Everyone is sprawled down robbed of all strength. Crying children, families with missing children, missing husbands, missing mothers. Everyone in sheer despair.

We are sent below deck to rest. I fall asleep immediately. I dream of my village, of home, mum Adele, Gigina, Evelina, my brothers, of our hopes shattered. We are fed, seen by doctors and our wounds are tended. A few more days and land in Rio de Janeiro.

We are in Brazil. They take us all at the immigration centre in Isle De Flores.

We are quarantined and registered.

My name gets mistakenly changed from Benini Guerino to Bonini Chierino. Now I have a Brazilian document. Bonini Chierino, 24 years old, disembarked from the ship Alhena, Italian.

It doesn’t matter if they’ve made a mistake; in this chaos it would be too difficult to explain, to show them the mistake. What really matters is that I have a valid, official document.

Everyone is asked for their previous occupation in order to steer us to work.

I’m scared of sea, I haven’t recovered from my experience of the sea".

The family presumed him dead (maybe because of the name change) and then several months after the disaster they got a postcard and realised he had survived.

Georges Grenade

We received this relating of the sinking from Georges Van Linthout. Monsieur Grenade was a first class survivor. On the day after the sinking (whilst on the Formosa) he wrote a letter (in French - attachment below for original) to his wife telling him of his experiences. In particular he, like so many others, criticises the behaviour of some of the crew. Here is the Spanish version of the original:

"Mi queridísima Anita:

Lo que acaba de ocurrirme es horrible y creo que en mi existencia futura no habrá sufrimiento que pueda borrar el horrible espectáculo del cual he sido parte.

El 25 de octubre, a las cinco de la tarde, estaba yo leyendo en mi cabina cuando un ruido de máquinas que se rompen me hace sobresaltar y salir del camarote para buscar la causa que lo origina. Inmediatamente la sirena del barco llama a los pasajeros a reunirse en el puente, provistos de sus respectivos salvavidas.

Se nos comunica que a consecuencia de una avería en la hélice, el barco tenía una vía de agua que ponía en peligro su existencia.

Rápidamente lanzaron los botes al mar al mismo tiempo que se emitían señales de auxilio en todas las direcciones, invitando a los barcos vecinos a socorrernos en esta desgracia.

Inmediatamente vimos dos barcos, uno inglés y otro holandés, que forzando sus máquinas se dirigieron hacia nosotros.

Aquí empieza el drama: la mar tenía un poco de oleaje, estaba más bien calma y todo hacía presumir un salvamento fácil cuando los emigrantes en un número de setecientos, viendo los botes en el mar, se precipitaron como locos, llenándolos en exceso, por lo cual dos de estos se hundieron inmediatamente, provocando la muerte de una cuarentena de pasajeros. Los otros botes se alejaron, pero después de haber dejado a los pasajeros en los barcos que se habían acercado, se quedaron inmóviles, rehusando sus tripulaciones volver al “Mafalda”, por los riesgos que ellos implicaba. En esos momentos, más de mil pasajeros esperaban ansiosamente los botes salvavidas. Los primeros rescatados fueron emigrantes, tripulantes y marineros de a bordo, que no tenían ganas de abandonar su nueva seguridad.

Es una vergüenza para la marina italiana lo que ocurrió al principio del siniestro. Los marinos, oficiales y comandante, podían haber llamado al orden con ejemplar severidad a la turba de emigrantes, que amenazaba de muerte a todo aquel que se oponía a su paso.

Dándome cuenta de las graves consecuencias que se producían en circunstancias de pánico como estas, hacía lo posible por tranquilizar a las señoras y a los niños de primera clase, exhortándoles a quedarse sentados, para alejar de su vista el espectáculo de los ahogados que flotaban y las sangrientas escenas que ocasionaban los cuchillos de sus vainas. Un ejemplo te gratificará la conducta de estas gentes: uno de los botes que descendía al mar, debido a un movimiento de cuerdas que guiaban dos poleas, inadvertidamente enredó su mano entre una de las poleas y cuerdas y gritando suplicaba a sus compañeros que subieran el bote para zafarse; el accidente puso a la chalupa en posición inconveniente ya que uno de los lados descendía más rápido que el otro, rompiendo el equilibrio y provocando una posible caída al mar. Vi entonces con mis propios ojos y fue tan grande mi horror que tuve que darme vuelta cuando uno de los granujas tomó su cuchillo y a pesar de los gritos incalificables de la víctima, le cortó el puño, para permitir el libre funcionamiento de las cuerdas. La víctima se retorció en un espantoso sufrimiento, cayó al agua y desapareció.

¿Qué hacían los oficiales, el comandante y el primer oficial? Estaban sobre el puente superior ocupados de salvar valores, rodeados de marinos borrachos con botellas de licores robadas de la cantina.

Mientras tanto, el “Formosa”, barco francés, llegaba también a nuestro socorro y a pesar de la noche oscura, en una hermosa maniobra se acercó al “Mafalda” a una veintena de metros, lanzando inmediatamente sus botes al mar, dando un lindo ejemplo a los barcos inglés y holandés que desde el principio del siniestro se mantenían a una distancia de un kilómetro y no hacían grandes esfuerzos por socorrernos. Gracias a esta nueva ayuda, algunas mujeres y niños de la primera clase pudieron ser salvados, pero la situación del “Mafalda” se volvía cada vez más crítica, hundiéndose por la popa con una inclinación a babor. La oscuridad era total, las máquinas estaban sumergidas en el agua y en las sombras los ladrones que creían su huida fácil robaban los baúles, se acercaban para sustraer los joyeros que las señoras llevaban consigo en la esperanza de salvar sus joyas más preciadas.

Hacia las nueve y media de la noche, me di cuenta de que la única manera de salvarnos era lanzándonos al agua para llegar a nado a los barcos de los cuales distinguíamos sus luces, ya que al ver la masa agitada de emigrantes que nos impedía pasar, no teníamos ninguna esperanza de poder llegar a las escaleras de salvataje. Salvo dos excepciones, las señoras se negaron a esta decisión, paralizadas por el espectáculo de los tiburones, que empezaban su siniestro banquete con los cuerpos flotantes de los ahogados o bien rehusaron correr tal riesgo con los niños que las acompañaban.

Escenas desgarradoras se produjeron: una señora me pedía que no la abandonara y me confiaba su hijo; otra, la señora Quiroga de Buenos Aires, escribía su última voluntad en mi libreta de notas dándome sus instrucciones en caso que me salvara; una pobre señora se volvió loca y comenzó a desvestirse para bailar una danza macabra en medio de la oscuridad.

El desenlace se acercaba y ya los muebles y las columnas del gran salón se habían invertido, sepultando algunos seres humanos que se deslizaban entre las sombras.

Ya no nos podíamos mantener en pie y subiéndome a las redes que colgaban del costado de la nave, grité a todo el mundo que hiciera lo mismo para estar listo a tirarse al mar en el momento del hundimiento. El instante crítico se acercaba y yo sentía el barco agitado en sus últimas convulsiones, cuando el comandante, con cuatro toques de sirenas prolongadas nos anunció que todo había concluido: sálvese quien pueda. Instantes después, una explosión formidable remecía todo el barco, las calderas habían saltado con el contacto del agua fría del mar y el pobre “Mafalda”, con un ruido siniestro mezclado con los gritos dados por los 900 pulmones que quedaban a bordo, se encabritó sobre la popa hundiéndose en el infinito, aplastado bajo las olas gigantescas.

Estando todo perdido pensé en irme. Después de una corta oración y habiéndose contemplado en una visión tan dolorosa como rápida, me lancé al mar inmediatamente después de la explosión.

Traté de alelarme rápidamente del barco que se hundía, pero fui llevado por los remolinos que me arrastraban al abismo sin fin; resistí todo lo que pude y después de algunos instantes me di cuenta que el movimiento ascendente que se operaba aumentaba por la ayuda del cinturón salvavidas que me rodeaba.

¿Cuánto tiempo duró la subida? No sabría decirlo, pero sentía necesidad inmediata de aire y tenía noción clara de la asfixia que me amenazaba. Al fin pude llegar a la superficie y respirar largamente. Una ola enorme me aplastó otra vez, pero no tenía suficiente aire y después de algunos momentos empecé a nadar, evitando los obstáculos numerosos que flotaban sobre agua: planchas, barriles, cadáveres, etc. De repente, me sentí arrastrado por detrás: dos manos nerviosamente se aferraban a mí. Un náufrago me había alcanzado y se servía de mí como boya y medio de locomoción. El peso no era mucho, por lo tanto, presumí que se trataba de un niño que me suplicaba en español que lo salvara.

Había vuelto a tomar confianza y empezaba a sentir que me había salvado. Lo importante era encontrar rápidamente una tabla para subir a ella y evitar el beso mortal de los tiburones. Nadaba en dirección de los barcos de los cuales se veían las luces, evitando mezclar mis gritos con los clamores que se oían de todas partes, dándome cuenta lo necesarias que eran mis fuerzas en ese momento. De repente, sentí cerca de mí una masa flotante y me agarré, haciéndome mi satélite lo mismo, lo que ayudó que quedara más libre para mis movimientos.

Después de un instante de tranquilidad, el joven, un niño de 15 años pudo subir sobre la improvisada balsa, pero cuando quise hacer lo mismo sentí mis fuerzas flaquear.

Descansé algunos instantes todavía y en un último resto de energía, pensando en todos ustedes, pude al fin subirme, quedando atontado por mi milagrosa salvación.

Durante más de una hora estuve luchando contra mis fuerzas contrarias y la certeza de mi próxima salvación parecía un espejismo.

Ayudado por el muchacho sacamos del agua a tres pasajeros que se debatían entre la vida y la muerte y esperamos pacientemente que una de esas pequeñas luces que flotaban en el agua e indicaban que numerosos botes salvavidas recogían a los náufragos que estaban al alcance de nuestra voz para pedir ayuda.

Oí llamados en francés y respondí en el mismo idioma, instantes después fuimos izados a un gran bote, donde muertos y vivos imposibles de distinguir en esa noche obscura, se mezclaban en un desorden macabro.

Los gritos de los náufragos se apagaban poco a poco, indicando el fin de los sufrimientos.

Después de una hora de búsqueda, fuimos llevados a bordo del “Formosa”, donde frazadas calientes y un buen alimento nos devolvieron nuestras primeras energías.

Al subir a bordo, mis vestimentas estaban hechas jirones. Me sentía avergonzado de mi desnudez frente a todas las señoras y señoritas que hacían lo posible por reanimarnos.

Hoy que todo ha pasado, me pregunto si he vivido una pesadilla y lo dudaría si no viera las escenas desgarradoras que se producían a mi lado: un marido que llora a su mujer y a sus hijos, acá una madre inconsolable por la pérdida de los suyos, allá un niño del que no se conoce su origen traído por un bote salvavidas. Inútil decirte que pude cerrar los ojos la primera noche, pero antes de acostarme, había pedido al comandante permiso para telegrafiarte como también a tu hermano (Francisco Campos Torreblanca) en Buenos Aires, a fin de evitarles la angustia que la lectura de los diarios hubiera seguramente provocado.

El balance de esta odisea fue terrible. Había a bordo del “Mafalda” 1.400 pasajeros, además de la tripulación y hasta ahora no se cuentan más que 850. La primera clase, por las razones indicadas fue la más castigada, calculo que 20 personas de primera se han salvado sobre un total de 60 y de esos 20 pasajeros no quedan más que 7 hombres.

Familias enteras desaparecieron, como los Barboza de Río de Janeiro, compuesta por la madre, la hija de 24 años y el hijo de 22. El joven quería saltar al agua y cuando se aprestaba a hacerlo, su madre le suplicó que nos las abandonara y quedaron los tres abrazados para la eternidad. La familia Díaz, compuesta de un padre enfermo, de la madre y de dos niñas estaba en el mismo caso. Nosotros formamos entonces un grupo de 7 personas: dos damas con sus maridos y tres hombres no acompañados. Cosa extraña, las dos parejas se salvaron saltando al agua en el momento propicio y yo soy el único que queda de los otro tres.

¡Qué triste será mi llegada a Buenos Aires! Tendré que visitar a la familia de los desaparecidos, pensando que un rescatado hubiera podido hacer el mismo servicio hacia ustedes.

En fin, dejemos todo esto.

En otra carta, te daré otras noticias. Mi reloj se detuvo a las 9:40 horas del siniestro. El agua del mar oxidó sus engranajes. Lo conservaré como recuerdo. Es todo lo que queda de mi equipaje, pero su pérdida no me afecta pues lo puedo renovar.

Agradezcamos a Dios lo que hizo por mí y recibe mi queridísima Anita, junto a los niños mis afectuosos besos.

Georges.

PS. Entre los náufragos que se salvaron en la balsa se encontraba un árabe que no se cansaba de agradecer a Alá. Tantas alabanzas y genuflexiones hacía, que nos ponía a todos en peligro de caer al agua, por lo que me vi obligado a decirle que si continuaba con sus reverencias lo arrojaría a los tiburones. No fue necesario. Hasta pronto".