On the first day of May, about 11 o’clock in the forenoon, we spoke two British patrol vessels named Iago and Filey.  We were then about twenty-two miles west of the Bishop Lighthouse.  The patrol vessels asked where we were bound.  After informing them we were bound for Rouen, they ordered us to follow them to the Bishop.  The Filey took up a position a half mile distant on our port bow, the Iago off our starboard quarter close to us.  We steered as directed, and at about 12:22, the second officer, being on watch, sighted a submarine on our port bow—­slightly on the port bow—­steaming at right angles to our course.  The submarine was in sight for about five minutes, when she submerged about right ahead of us.  I saw her, but could not distinguish or see any flag flying on her.

The Gulflight was then steering about true east, steaming about eight miles an hour, flying a large American ensign, six feet by ten feet.  The wind was about south, about eight miles an hour in force.  I personally observed our flag was standing out well to the breeze.

Immediately after seeing the submarine I went aft and notified the crew and came back and went on the bridge and heard the Captain make the remark that that must be a British submarine, as the patrol boats took no notice of it.

About 12:50 an explosion took place in the Gulflight on the bluff of the starboard bow, sending vast quantities of water high in the air, coming down on the bridge and shutting everything off from our view.  After the water cleared away our ship had sunk by the head so that the sea was washing over the foredeck, and the ship appeared to be sinking.

Immediately after I went aft to see to the boats.  On my way I saw one man overboard on the starboard side.  The water at that time was black with oil.  The boats were lowered and the crew got into them without delay or damage.  After ascertaining there was no one left on board the ship I got in my boat and we were picked up by the patrol vessel Iago and were advised by her crew to leave the scene.  We proceeded toward St. Mary’s, but the dense fog which then came on prevented us getting into the harbor that night.

About 2:30 in the morning following I saw Captain Gunter, master of the Gulflight, who had been sleeping in the room of the skipper of the Iago, standing in the room with a queer look in his face.  I asked him what his trouble was, and he made no reply.  Then he reached for the side of the berth with his hands, but did not take hold.  I went in the room, but he fell before I reached him.

He was taken on deck, as the cabin was small and hot.  After reaching the deck he seemed to revive and said:  “I am cold.”  After that he had apparently two fainting attacks and then expired in a third one—­this being about 3:40.

We arrived at St. Mary’s, Scilly, about 10 o’clock on the morning of May 2.  The Gulflight was towed to Crow Sound, Scilly, on May 2 by British patrol vessels, and Commander Oliver, senior naval officer of the Port of Scilly, sent for some one to come on board the Gulflight, and I went, and the ship was anchored about 6 P.M.