In 1879 the Constellation was in the yards, decommissioned. November 10, 1879 she was recommissioned for a trip to Gibraltar to provide supplies and crew to the Mediterranean Squadron. Somewhere off the Azores (dead reckoning placed her at N34.30 by W28.46), she encountered a severe storm that lasted a week. When the weather cleared, on November 24, a ship was spotted to the westward.
The ship was flying a distress signal with her colors at half-mast. The Constellation got as close as she dared in the midst of squalls. At 8 a.m. one of the whaleboats was lowered to travel to the distressed ship to see what assitance was needed. The whaleboat was commanded by Ensign Reynolds, a surgeon, and other crew.
Boarding was not easy. To avoid being crushed against the hull, Reynolds put her under the lee side side. Once aboard the ship, she was discovered to be the Austro-Hungarian bark, Olivo. Her rudder was gone, and she was leaking as the grain she was carrying had expanded so much from the water that invaded during the storm, the planks of the ship’s sides were literally being pushed out. There was also no more water on board.
After reporting all this to his ship, Reynold returned to the bark with two sixty gallon water casks in tow. A request was sent to the Olivo via international flag code to keep to the leeward and try to pick up the whaleboat. The Constellation maintained position by tacking to port with the topsail furled. But she had to fall back a few times as the bark, being rudderless kept drifting to close for safety.
Reynolds returned from his second trip back to the Constellation with the acting master of the ship, and two other crew members. The Master reported he wished to abandon the ship. The constellation’s reaction was to send a boat back with Lit. Lyons and a carpenter to see if any repairs were possible and bring back the crew if possible.
This second boat signaled back that the crew needed to be evacuated, the whaleboat was too small to carry them all, send the other whaleboat. By this time it was 4 p.m. and evening was coming on. The seas were picking up. The squalls of earlier had been replaced by “very fresh breezes.” Nevertheless, Reynolds launched again in the other whaleboat to assist. There were still 8 men on the Olivo not counting those in the second boat.
The second boat returned at 5 and was hoisted aboard. At 5 :30 p.m. Reynold returned with 5 men. By then it was too dark to continue. It was stated the rescue would continue in the morning. Reynold declared the ship would not last until morning. He volunteered to go in the whaleboat once again if any crew would volunteer to go with him. In a testament to the highest Navy ideals, twice the number needed volunteered to go with him
Slowly, carefully, under terrible conditions, the three men were taken off the Olivo and placed safely in the whaleboat. One job remained. The ship was in a major navigational way. As a rudderless hulk, she was a danger to other ships. Reynolds was ordered to fire her. There was only way to do that. He boarded the ship, doused the decks with kerosene and set her alight. The whaleboat had moved away from the ship due to the rough seas. Therefore Reynolds had to jump overboard and swim for the boat. He made it.
The whaleboat returned to the Constellation, everyone believing the ordeal was over. But not yet. Because it was going to be one of those days. At 8 p.m. the boat came alongside the ship and was in the process of being hauled aboard. The deck log is just “secured the whaleboat.” The reality was a bit different. While the boat was being hosted to the davits, the ship gave a roll, causing the whaleboat to slam into the side of the ship. Everyone in the small boat almost went overboard. Reynolds himself having over the side between the boat and the ship. One more roll and he would be crushed between them. Fortunately, his shipmates grabbed him and hauled him onto the deck. It was now 8 p.m. almost 12 hours after the first whaleboat was dropped to check on the Olivo.
The drama was finally over. The Constellation unfurled her sails in the “bright moonlight, cumulus clouds passing to southwest.” By 10:40, she has lost sight of the burning abandoned Olivo.
Ensign Reynolds was awarded the Life Saving Gold Medal for his actions, along with medals for the Massachusetts Humane Society and the New York Life-Saving Benevolent Association. The Austro-Hungarian government was so grateful fo his actions in saving the crew, that with special permission of the U.S. Congress he was made a member of the Royal and Imperial Order of Francis Joseph. Reynolds stayed in the Navy, making it to Lieutenant before he was killed in a horse car accident in Washington, DC February 16, 1893.
Sources:
Constellation Deck Log, Courtesy of the National ArchivesUnited States
Life Saving Service Report for 1879
USNA Memorial Hall