Suddenly the ship gave a sickening lurch and
Poon Lim slammed into the side of a bunk. An ashtray and some other items tumbled after
him. He wondered what was going on. The SS Benlomond, a british merchant ship
was 13 days out of Capetown, South Africa sailing west, bound for Paramaribo, Dutch
Guiana. It was nearly noon and 24 year old Lim as
the second steward had just been about to leave his quarters to go serve lunch. Lim got to his feet. He was walking out his door when a massive
explosion rocked the ship, hurling him to the deck. He laid there for a moment, the wind knocked
out of him. He could hear the creaking of the boat, the
yells of sailors and the gush of seawater as it poured through a shattered porthole. Comprehension kicked in as a second explosion,
even larger than the first shook the ship. The Benlomond had been torpedoed by a German
U-boat. Lim scrambled back into his quarters for his
bright orange life jacket. The shp pitched and yawed as he put it on
and stumbled down the galley. Thick, black acrid smoke billowed from the
vents. Lim fought his way across the deck to his
assigned lifeboat station, but the boat was already gone. All around him panicked sailors ran every
which way. Scalding steam hissed out of the damaged engine
room and he could hear the screams of the trapped firemen. A slick of black oil was spreading across
the blue ocean. No doubt about it, the SS Benlomond was going
down. Lim saw the Second Mate and some seamen at
the bridge station trying to lower a lifeboat. He ran over to help. There was a sudden thunder like boom--the
main bulkhead was collapsing. The Second Mate yelled at them to tie their
life jackets tight and go over the side. The seamen quickly jumped, but Lim froze. He wasn’t much of a swimmer, having only
learned to dog paddle as a child. The Second Mate screamed at him to jump or
he would be sucked down with the ship. Before Lim could move, the stern plunged and
a massive wave of sea water poured onto the ship. Lim was caught in a black whirlpool. The water made his ears pop, ripped off his
slippers and tangled his loose Chinese trousers around his legs. He struggled, trying to kick himself free. His lungs ached and his head threatened to
explode. Just when he couldn’t hold his breath any
longer, Lim was suddenly propelled upwards, the buoyancy of the life jacket made him pop
on the surface like a cork. Coughing, Lim stared at the scene before him;
he couldn’t believe it. All that was left of the Benlomond was a huge
oily stain and a field of floating wreckage. Lim could hear yells from the living, but
the glare of the sun on oily water made it difficult to tell which direction they were
coming from. Surely someone had made it into a lifeboat. Lim shouted too, first in Chinese and then
English. Hanging on a broken board, Lim paddled through
the debris field. About 100 yards (91 meters) away he spotted
some seamen in a raft pulling another survivor aboard. Lim shouted and tried to swim closer to the
raft, but the men didn’t respond. A periscope suddenly appeared and Lim was
rocked by swells as a U-boat rose to the surface. A hatch opened and submariners swarmed out. They trained guns on the raft and reeled it
in. Lim breathlessly watched as the survivors
were led into the submarine. Sometimes U-boats would take survivors hostage,
but these submariners seemed relaxed. They hung out on deck smoking cigarettes. Lim decided to take a chance and started yelling
for help as he paddled towards the submarine. Eventually a seamen noticed Lim and alerted
the others. They beckoned him to come closer. Then Lim saw the survivors being forced back
onto the raft. The U-boat started up, churning water, creating
huge swells which tumbed Lim under. The submariners laughed and aimed their guns,
pretending to fire at him. Then they went down the hatch and the U-boat
began to dive. Lim closed his eyes, thinking that he was
going to be sucked down in another whirlpool, but he wasn’t. After a few moments he opened his eyes to
see that the submarine and raft were gone. The SS Benlomond had sunk in 2 minutes--only
6 survivors had managed to abandon ship. The survivors on the raft were never seen
again, ultimately making Lim the lone survivor out of a crew of 54. Despairing, Lim paddled around looking for
someone, something--anything. Hours later, he finally saw something. One of the Benlomond’s emergency rafts. After swimming to the raft and hauling himself
onto the narrow deck, Lim was exhausted and collapsed. Sometime later he awoke, stiff, sore and shivering. Lim wrestled out of his lifejacket and took
off his sodden clothing. Worried about getting separated from the raft,
he took some rope and made a loop for his wrist, so he could keep the raft tied to him. He curled up on a ledge and scanned the darkening
horizon hoping to see the sweep of a spotlight. But there were only waves. It was late morning when Lim awoke chilly. He reached for his clothing only to realize
that it was gone, fallen overboard sometime during the night. However, his life jacket was floating in the
water, the buckle snagged on the edge of the raft. He leaned over and grabbed at itt, but it
was just out of reach. Lim was afraid to stretch further, for fear
that he’d fall overboard. A wave suddenly swept it free and he watched
helplessly as the bright orange life jacket drifted away until it was finally out of sight. Lim took stock of the raft. It was square with two 8 feet long (2.4 meter),
2.5 wide ( 0.76 meter) plank benches. A 3x6 (.91x1.82 meters) well sat between them. The whole frame sat upon 6 watertight drums. There were 2 metal containers fore and aft,
containing supplies. Luckily the containers were stocked with a
bag of barley sugar, 2 pounds (907 grams) of chocolate, 5 tins of evaporated milk, tins
of Hardtack, dried beef, flour, molasses, suet, malted milk tablets and a bottle of
lime juice. Most importantly there was an 11 gallon (41
litre) water tank. There was also loose tobacco and rolling papers
in a small tin, matches, along with rope, 5 flares, 2 smoke pots, and a flashlight. Lastly, there were oars, and a huge canvas
sail. Unfortunately Lim knew little about sailing
and had no way to navigate. He quickly used the sail to create a shelter,
so he would have some relief from the scorching sun. The next several days were all the same. During the day, Lim huddled in the shaded
well. Night brought relief from the heat, but then
he would shake with chills due to sunburn. Though Lim didn’t have much of an appetite
he ground up a little hardtack, mixed it with water to form a thick soup and sprinkled some
dried beef on it for flavor. He daydreamed about his childhood in a rural
village in the province of Hainan, China. He tried to calculate how long it would take
a rescue boat to reach the area where the Benolomd went down and find him. A squall blew up and the raft danced on the
choppy waves. Lim curled up in the well and gripped the
side of a bench so hard he got splinters. Just over a week after the Benlomond sank,
Lim sighted a ship. It was still far away so he decided to set
off a smoke pot to draw it near and then he would set off a flare. The ship didn’t react to the smoke and changed
course, but Lim decided to set off a flare anyway. But he didn’t know how to use them. They had instructions, but Lim didn’t read
English very well. He tried to light a flare and tossed it in
a wide arc. It fell into the sea and sank unlit. In a panic, he dropped the second flare in
the sea. But his third attempt worked; a red ball of
light shot up into the sky. But the ship still didn’t change course. Lim set off the fourth flare and the ship
swung towards his raft. Lim set off his final flare. The ship came close enough that he could see
3 men on the bridge and the glint of binoculars. Lim realized the mariners were studying him. Sometimes enemy subs used decoys to lure ships. Lim yelled that he was from the Benlomond. He thought about jumping in the water and
swimming for it. Suddenly the ship’s engines revved to life. Lim lit a smoke pot, but the ship turned and
rapidly sailed out of sight. Lim cursed and then wept. He wondered if the ship had refused to pick
him up because he was Chinese. The next morning Lim woke up with a new resolve,
there was no guarantee he’d be rescued anytime soon, he needed to make plans to survive. He checked his supplies. He had drank 2 gallons (7.5 litres) of water
in just over a week. At this rate, his water would last maybe 28
days, however if he limited himself to a pint (.94 litre) a day, drinking in the morning
and then again at dusk, he could stretch it to 40 days. He portioned out his food as well. Lim’s skin was erupting into painful boils
from the constant exposure to saltwater. He took the jagged edge of a tin and lanced
the bumps. He could no longer sleep in the well, he needed
to stay dry and sleep on a bench, even if he risked falling in the sea. He made himself a rough sleeping bag out of
some canvas and lashed it to a bench. It took several days before Lim got used to
napping on the bench. But with his skin staying drier, his boils
improved. His biggest problem became thirst. Most days long before evening he had drunk
all of his rationed water. He opened a tin of milk and drank most of
it at once, because it would rapidly spoil in the heat. It gave him an upset stomach and diarrhea. Lim figured out that he could keep an opened
tin of milk floating in another tin of seawater in the well to slow the spoiling. When it rained, Lim scrubbed himself and garggled. He developed a system to catch rainwater on
the sail so he could replenish the water tank. By now his skin had tanned to leather and
his hair had grown long enough to shield his eyes from the dazzling sun. As his supplies got low, Lim began to try
to figure out how to catch fish. He ended up digging the spring out of the
flashlight and bending it into a hook. He beat the edge of a tin lid and shaped it
to make a knife. The knife went on a lanyard around his neck. After many tries, Lim caught his first fish. He ate it raw, even though it was slimy and
disgusting. Knowing that fish were his best chance for
survival, Lim came up with a system of drying them, thus making them more tasty and preserving
them to eat later. Lim had been successfully fishing for about
two weeks when a large fish nearly got away with his hook. Lim decided to make a better hook. Using the heavy key to the water tank, Lim
started to dig a nail out of one of the planks. For hours he worked at it, using the key and
his fingernails to chip away at the wood surrounding the nail. Unable to yank the loosened nail out with
his hands, eventually he gripped itl in his teeth and pulled. The pain was excruciating and Lim’s mouth
rapidly filled with blood. But all at once, the nail yanked free, Lim’s
head snapped back and he bumped it hard on the bench. Lim had to wait a few days for his hands to
heal up before hammering the nail into a hook shape and then filing it to a fine point. In all the making of the new hook took about
a week in which he barely ate.. But afterwards he was able to catch larger
fish. Lim developed a routine where he fished early
in the morning, cleaned the fish and prepared them for drying, ate and then spent the rest
of the afternoon in the shade of the canvas.. Sometimes he sang songs from his childhood
as he worked. He was able to preserve and store up a few
days worth of fish. At first, Lim counted the days by tying knots
in a rope, but after a long while, he decided that there was no point in counting the days
and began counting full moons. It was several days later that Lim spotted
six planes flying in formation. He had seen planes before, but this time he
was ready. He waved the crude flag he had made with a
length of canvas and an oar. A plane broke formation to take a closer look. Lim yelled and waved the oar madly. The plane circled the raft. Lim had been seen. The plane dropped a buoy and waggled its wings
before flying off. Lim sat with hope and caution warring inside
him. How long before the plane came back? As afternoon turned into evening, Lim became
worried. Low dark clouds hung in the sky, a big storm
was coming. Soon the wind howled. Angry streaks of lightning split the sky. Surging waves rushed over the raft sending
Lim spluttering. All he could do was wrap himself in the canvas
sail, huddle in the well and hold on to a plank as best he could. Lim wasn’t exactly sure how long the storm
raged, but it was for days. When the sea finally quieted, he crawled out
of the well, weak and bruised. Worst yet, the storm had destroyed his supplies--his
food was spoiled or washed away, the water tank befouled with sea water. By strength of will Lim bailed out the water
tank, spread the canvas out to dry and completed other clean up tasks. For a couple days Lim tried to fish, baiting
the hook with barnacle meat, but caught nothing. His genitals began to swell and it was hard
to pee. When Lim finally urinated, he drank the pee. Unfortunately, it only eased his thirst briefly. Lim would repeat the action a few times over
the next week, his urine growing darker and darker. Then one day he couldn’t go anymore. He was so thirsty. His skin was flaking off, the saltwater boils
were back and they broke open on their own and oozed pus. The inside of his mouth was full of ulcers
and foul white fur coated his tongue. Lying down was uncomfortable as he could feel
every inch of his protruding bones touching the planks. He was dying, there was no way around it. Lim drifted in and out of consciousness, pinching
himself to stay awake. He felt that if he slept he wouldn’t wake
up. Day turned into night. A gentle breeze blew over his feverish skin. Lim kept his eyes half closed against the
searing brightness of the moon. He heard the flap of wings overhead. Then a bird landed on the raft to investigate
him. Lim held his breath as the bird hopped closer. Closer. When it was less than a foot from his hand. Lim pounced. He had it by the legs. The bird shrieked and beat its wings, but
Lim banged its head against the deck until it was silent. With his knife Lim sawed a slit in the feathered
breast and drank the still warm blood. Then he tore apart the bird and ate it raw. For the first time in a few days he slept. The next day it drizzled and Lim was able
to catch a little water. That night Lim caught another bird and devoured
it like the first. He awoke to rain. Lim drank deeply. It was too much water too soon and he vomited. After that he took smaller sips and was fine. He set up his water catch system and was able
to capture several gallons of water. Not long after that Lim realized that he had
drifted into waters full of fish. He was able to catch some. He had to force himself to eat slowly. Over the next several days Lim grew stronger. He alternated between catching fish and birds. His health slowly improved. One day while fishing, Lim reeled in part
of a tree trunk. It was the first sign of land he’d seen
in months. Within a few days the ocean water had turned
a muddy brown color, it obviously mingled with freshwater somewhere nearby. In the distance Lim could see a strip of sandy
beach. As Lim drifted closer he could see a jungle
and smell the vegetation. He tried to use an oar to row towards the
land, but the current was too strong so he drifted parallel. One misty morning, Lim could hardly believe
his eyes. A fleet of fishing boats were sailing fairly
close by in search of an early catch. Lim began to shout for help in English, his
voice rusty from disuse. Poon Lim was rescued by a fishing family 10
miles (16 kilometers) off the coast of Brazil, he sailed with them for 3 days before they
landed at Belem. He had spent 133 days at sea. He was weak, but was able to walk ashore unassisted. The amazed British Consul took photos of Lim
and then sent him to a hospital. He was 30 pounds (13.6 kg) underweight, but
surprisingly he had no serious problems. He spent 45 days in the hospital recovering. Eventually Lim returned to Britain. King George VI bestowed a British Empire Medal
(BEM) on him, and the Royal Navy incorporated his tale into manuals of survival techniques. After World War II ended, Lim wanted to emigrate
to the United States, but the quota for Chinese immigrants had been reached. However, because of his fame and special legislation
written by Senator Warren Magnuson, he received a special dispensation and eventually gained
citizenship. The US Navy Emergency Rescue Equipment section
interviewed Lim extensively, even reconstructing a raft similar to the one Lim survived on. Lim re-enacted his survival skills and showed
them his technique for making a knife. When told no one had ever survived longer
on a raft at sea, Lim is said to have replied, "I hope no one will ever have to break that
record." What happened to those who survived the sinking
of the Titanic, but didn’t make it onto a lifeboat? Find out here:
A SAS soldier got lost in the Iraqi desert and goes to amazing lengths to survive, even
drinking nuclear waste. Check out his story:
