By Gene Printz
Some events become faded memories over the years, but I remember Jean from 68 years ago as though it was yesterday. She was a fierce typhoon with winds over 130 mph headed toward the Philippine Islands with ships in her path.
The USS Castor AKS1, nicknamed the Ichiban (number one in Japanese), was bound for Subic Bay on Friday, 19 October 1956 when she encountered Jean. The Castor, a Navy general stores ship was in a tropical storm when weather conditions quickly deteriorated and developed into a typhoon. The wind sounded like a screaming banshee reaching well over 100 mph with higher gusts; massive waves pounded the ship with incredible force; heavy rain blowing against the ship sounded like ball bearings against the steel plates; and with every roll and counter-roll, the crew held their breath praying for the ship to right herself. The helmsman struggled to keep the ship’s nose into the wind, crucial to keeping us from capsizing in the turbulent sea. The Castor was 459 feet in length, 63 feet at the beam, with a draught over 26 feet and she was structurally sound, but even large ships suffer damage or control issues in severe storms. Hours into the typhoon we thought the terror would never end, but as we reached the outer bands conditions improved rapidly, and remarkably we endured the worst of Jean unscathed, but she had another surprise for the Ichiban.
On Saturday morning, the storm eased significantly, but we still had rain squalls and a rough sea. The Castor’s men were exhausted and few had slept a wink over the past 24-hours, and sleep would not come soon for men working essential positions. Cooks prepared the first hot meal since the beginning of the storm; however, few men chose food over to sleep. The radiomen had been on constant duty during the storm and were running on adrenalin, coffee, and nicotine (for the two chain-smokers). Around noon on Saturday the 20th, we were returning to a normal watch schedule when a series of CQ morse code letters came across the emergency frequency. CQ is an indication that the sender has a message for anyone hearing the signal. We responded and received an emergency message from a Filipino ship, the SS Lepus – she had been damaged in the typhoon, was sinking, and her 26-man crew were abandoning ship.
As the junior radioman, I delivered the Lepus’ message to the captain in his quarters. He was enjoying a meal, probably the first since the beginning of the storm, and his bed was turned down ready for much-needed sleep, but after reading the message, he became alert and ready for action. Later, the captain’s steward came to the radio room to advise he had prepared a hot meal for us and it would be delivered soon. We were delighted and appreciative of the captain’s kindness – particularly considering the pressures he faced.
An air and sea search was organized to look for Lepus survivors, and a joint rescue operation of the United States Navy at Sangley Point, and Air Force units at Clark Air Force Base and Okinawa were in the air by early afternoon shortly after the estimated sinking of the Lepus. The Castor probed the outer areas of the storm, but the air search was hindered by cloud cover and a rough sea. On the surface, visibility was excellent and the rain ended, but heavy swells made it difficult to see objects in the water. As the weather cleared, the air search became more efficient and the search area was expanded. One plane spotted an empty lifeboat and this information enabled the rescue coordinator to define a smaller search area for both air and sea searches but finding survivors was a diminishing hope.
On 20 October, a lookout on the Castor spotted a lifeboat with survivors, but it took quite a while to verify the sighting. The radio room was located one deck below the bridge providing us with an excellent view of rescue preparations and the survivors’ lifeboat. The captain opted against maneuvering the big ship to the lifeboat in heavy seas and ordered a power boat lowered for the recovery. While lowering the boat, a malfunction on one of the davits caused the boat to drop suddenly, causing a member of the rescue crew to be spilled into the water and he quickly drifted away from the ship. Now we had two rescues to complete at the same time in rough water, and keeping both the survivors and the crewman in sight was challenging. The davit problem was quickly resolved and the boat was safely lowered, and the man from the Castor was retrieved. Although soaked, he was not injured and chose to stay with the rescue party. We could sense the excitement of all search units involved in finding survivors, and numerous messages were generated between the Castor and the search coordinator. We were watching as the rescue crew arrived at the lifeboat and recovered eleven men. Nine of the survivors were in surprisingly good condition, two had severe injuries and one died shortly after boarding the Castor.
The weather cleared and the search continued for several hours with little expectation of finding additional survivors. An aircraft reported floating debris and cargo from the Lepus, and the USS Quapaw, a seagoing tug was dispatched to destroy or recover anything that could be hazardous to other vessels. The rescue operation was terminated on 22 October 1956, and the estimated location of the Lepus was determined to be approximately 230 miles off Cape Engafio, Cagayan in the Philippines (northeast of Luzon). The crew of the SS Lepus had fought the typhoon for 27 hours before abandoning the ship.
The Castor was instructed to deliver the survivors to Manila, and arrived at Pier 9, South Harbor on the morning of 22 October. Watching the survivors unite with their loved ones was a blessing, but it was painfully sad to watch parents, wives, and children mourning the loss of those who were lost at sea.
We thought the return of survivors would be the final closure for the USS Castor, but the rescue won a citation and plaque from Philippine President Ramon Magsaysay. The ceremony was held at Malacaang Palace in Manila, the official residence of the president. The Castor crew was invited to attend the ceremony and a large contingent of officers and enlisted men attended. I was on duty and did not go but was informed that President Magsaysay mentioned me in a list of crew members cited during his presentation. Sometime later, those named by President Magsaysay were cited at Captains Mast for outstanding performance of duty and later received a miniature of the plaque presented by President Magsaysay. The plaque had the official seal of the President of the Philippines and read:
“To the Officers and Men of the USS Castor in recognition of a nation’s gratitude for outstanding service, above and beyond the call of duty, for undaunted courage in saving the survivors of the SS “Lepus” on October 20, 1956, off Cagayan, Philippines.”
Ramon Magsaysay
President of the Philippines
Presented Nov. 5, 1956
The SS Lepus sank on 20 October 1956 during typhoon Jean, but some records claim she was lost during typhoon Harriet. Typhoon Harriet developed on 19 September near Japan, where she destroyed 600 buildings and killed 38 people. She then crossed the Sea of Japan to the northern islands of the Philippines and made final landfall in South Korea where she caused extensive destruction and loss of life. Harriet dispersed three weeks before typhoon Jean developed and the sinking for the Lepus.
