Robert Rankin: Lusitania Survivor and Inventor

That prediction came from Robert Rankin’s class year book. As he spent his last days in Provincetown, Massachusetts, Rankin could look back and smile at life filled with promise well fulfilled. His life began as the first son born to George and Sarah Rankin of Ithaca, New York on March 23, 1882. He came along  at a time when progress almost seemed to be made  on a daily basis and at a young age he wanted to be part of it. The boy was fascinated with electricity and when he graduated high school he enrolled at Cornell University. When he was not studying, he was actively involved in sports which resulted in scholarships. So much so, that his friends used to joke that he was bankrupting the Cornell treasury.

Rankin began working for Westinghouse soon after college, all the while experimenting with electromagnets and their properties. His work paid off and in two years after graduating he discovered the principal of electromagnetic in a vacuum. He sold this discovery to General Electric in 1910. He  began working for San Paolo Electric Co. of Brazil which meant frequent travel. He met socialite Enid Scott on a voyage to South America whose father Simon Scott, was a New York merchant and art collector. They married the following year after a whirlwind romance. He also became friends with Dr. Frederick Stark Pearson, whose company was Pearson Engineering Corporation. His dealings with Dr. Pearson  lead him to take the Lusitania on her last voyage. Pearson and his wife had already booked passage, and  recommended to Rankin that he should take the Lusitania as well.

May 1st was a dull, overcast day and Rankin was ready to take possession of his cabin and begin the voyage. He was lead down a maze of corriders to E-43, which was an inside cabin. To his disappointment, the ship did not sail immediately as she was taking on passengers from the Cameronia. Sailing was best described in an account by first class passenger Michael Byrne. He says in part, “So at 12:15 P.M. the Lusitania moved out into the stream and after the tugs had straightened her out, we moved down the river under our own power. Then after our pilot left us in the usual way, we steamed ahead for perhaps a half hour when I noticed we were slowing up. I focused my marine glasses over the bows of the ship and saw a warship off our starboard bow and what looked to be a passenger steamer lay off our port bow. On coming closer, I saw it was the Cunard steamer Caronia, now a converted auxiliary cruiser. Then I saw a boat leave the Caronia in charge of an officer who had three gold bands around the cuff of his sleeve. When he came along side I could not see whether any officer on our ship handed him anything or not. However in a few minutes we were underway again.”

The inventor found his table companions to be agreeable and became fast friends with Clinton “Bill” Bernard who told him that he was on his way to Greenland on a geological expedition. Rankin also spent time with the Pearsons, Robert Dearbergh, and Thomas Bloomfield. The afternoon of the 7th was a clear, sunny day and about twelve noon, Rankin went to the writing room to write his wife Enid a long letter. As he was writing, Dr. Pearson passed through and stopped to talk with him. They discussed the sudden alteration in the ship’s course. He later said that, ” the ship turned northward from the course she had been holding making  a huge semicircle and heeling well over to port “. He finished the letter and took a quick walk along the boat deck before lunch. He saw Fred and Mabel Pearson taking a stroll as well. By 2:00 P.M. he was standing on the starboard side with Thomas Bloomfield and Robert Dearbergh when one of them caught a glimpse of something. “There’s a whale,” he heard. Looking out onto the dazzling blue sea, he knew at once what the black ridge was. Instantly, a white, foamy streak shot out from the submarine. “It looks like a torpedo,” Dearbergh exclaimed. “My God, it is a torpedo,” said Bloomfield. The three watched as it cut through the water. Rankin described the excitement of the moment in great detail, “It came straight for the ship. It was obvious it couldn’t miss. It was aimed ahead of her and struck under the bridge[.]” They stood there and for a brief moment waiting for  it to detonate, there was a delay and they all hoped it would not explode. He then went on to say that, “The explosion came with a terrific crash, clear through the five decks destroying the boiler room and the main steam pipe….A mass of glass, wood, etc came pouring on our heads, 200 feet aft. We ducked into the smoking room shelter and I never saw my companions again[.]”

The man felt that the Lusitania was doomed from the start and crossed the smoking room to the portside. He aided some men who were trying to push a lifeboat over the side, but thought it was a useless task as the ship was listing too far to starboard. Abandoning this effort, he entered the companionway and made his way down stairs, trying  not to bump into people who were rushing up the stairs. He got as far as “D” deck and heard the disconcerting sound of water very close to where he stood. Looking down, he saw that “E” deck was already flooding. He crossed the darkened passageway on “D” deck to a porthole and to his horror saw that the water was within twelve inches of the port! He came across Clinton Bernard in the stairwell who asked him, ” have you a life preserver? ” to which Rankin shook his head. They tried a few cabins and found that they were all gone. The two decided that if they found one they would share it, “fifty-fifty”. As the friends walked along “B” deck they found quite a few passengers millling about waiting to be told what to do. They mounted the stairs to “A” deck and watched the boats on the starboard side begin loading. To their dismay, boat number one drifted a way with what appeared to be just one person aboard. Rankin came across one of those ” doughnut life preservers ” attached  to the rail and presented it to Bernard. They prepared to jump overboard with it when a steward claimed that there was an old lady who needed it. The gentleman unselfishly gave it away.

The last minutes were a blur to Rankin, of which he said the following, ” By this time the boat was sinking rapidly and Bernard said, ‘Goodbye old chap’ and grabbed me by the hand at the same time pulling out his money and throwing it away. The sixty foot deck was, by now, within six to ten feet of the water and I pulled off my coat and jumped, feet first, as far as I could and started to swim on my side. Looking straight up I saw the funnels coming over and thought that I would certainly be hit on the head. Then the funnels went back and the bow plunged and the ship went down. “. He found the water to be like ice and that he was covered with a layer of soot from the funnels. He came across  boat eleven packed with sixty odd people, but the assistant deck steward pulled him in anyway. They drifted about at the mercy of the wind as they had no rudder. Finally, the Wanderer of Peel came to the rescue and pulled them aboard. They were then transferred to the Flying Fish and taken to Queenstown. The moment was surreal as the wet and weary survivors walked between a line of townspeople. The crowd cheered and applauded as they made their way forward. Rankin felt a lump in his throat as the magnitude of the tragedy hit him. A “jacky-tar” gave him a drink of hot whiskey and put him to bed. The next day, he made his way through the town looking for friends. He found Clinton Bernard who had swum to a collapsible and rescued many people among them Stanley Lines and Dorothy Conner. Rankin saw Dr. Pearson lying in a makeshift morgue and arranged for his embalming. That Sunday, he and another shipboard acquaintance Robert Timmis motored over to Kinsale to help identify bodies, but found none that they knew. He also gave a brief description of his experiences to the American Counsel which was sent to the state department in the form of a depositon.

He arrived in London, Monday afternoon to keep his business appointments though he had lost all his papers. He took the ship, St. Louis back home along with Oscar Grab, Charles Hardwick and Fred Pearson’s son. They arrived in New York on June 7,1915. The Lusitania incident did not deter Rankin from traveling and after leaving San Paolo Electric, he and his wife moved to Peking, China when he was made vice president of Anderson Meyer and Co and the Willard Straight Co. He also took on the position of director of the Chinese American Bank of Commerce. Unfortunately, relations between Robert and Enid were breaking down and they separated. He retired in 1920 and began travelling to forget about his failed marriage, and  to relax after many years of hard work. He met a woman named Hilda Master Rigby and on February 24, 1923 they were wed. The two settled in Angmering on Sea, Sussex, England. His ex-wife moved back to New York and wrote a book called, “Dominion of Sea and Air”. It examined the causes of war and offered suggestions on preventing future wars. She passed away a few years later at age forty-three.

He filed a claim for compensation for lost effects and on February 21, 1924 he was awarded $1,362.00. Not content to settle down, the Rankins moved to St. Catherine’s, Ontario where they stayed many years. He finally became a father, at age fifty-two, to a girl whom they named Virginia. Feeling he had much to contribute during World War Two, he went to Washington, D.C. to work as an engineer with US Government. He  became a technical adviser to Evans International Corp after the war. Rankin eventually settled back into retirement back in St. Catherine’s, Ontario. He began vacationing in Provincetown, Massachussetts towards the end of his life and passed away there on August 10, 1959 at age 76.