By early morning, most of us realised that the ship was doomed, as she listed more and more heavily, and it was decided to try to break out of the hold, irrespective of the consequences.
Two or three men, therefore, clambered laboriously up the stanchions and the remains of a wooden ladder and commenced to force the hatch covers - this meant at times, holding on with one hand in the pitch darkness with a 30ft. drop into the hold below if they should weaken. At last, they were able to open a corner and fresh cool air from the deck above (between deck) rushed in like a breath of new life. About this time the ship gave a lurch, and everyone who had any strength at all scrambled to get out of the hold. Many were panic-stricken and on reaching the 'between deck' found the steel doors leading to the open deck bolted from the outside. Some in their panic attempted to squeeze through the portholes and wedged themselves, hanging there screaming, until eventually a further list of the ship brought them merciful oblivion by drowning. A short while later, someone from No.1 or No.2 Hold (Ginger Howell?) opened the bolts on the steel doors and we poured out onto the open deck.
A wonderful relief to see the blue sky and we stood for a moment eagerly taking deep breaths of clean, cold air - but only for a moment. We noticed five Japanese naval ships, circling a few hundred yards from the doomed vessel and when they saw the POWs breaking out of the holds, they opened up with rifle and machine gun fire, so that many who were in the water and trying to swim over to the naval ships were killed in the water. I saw a Japanese point a gun in my direction, it looked as big as a cannon. I dived under the water and stayed there as long as I could. Whether I was fired at I do not know, as on breaking the surface I found the ship had moved on. From then on, I tried my best to avoid, as far as possible, detection. Fortunately, the sea was covered in wreckage and floating litter.
We could see in the distance, about six miles away, a small group of islands. (We discovered later that these were the CHU SAN Islands, about 140 miles South of Shanghai). Fortunately, a strong current was flowing towards the islands, although later the current changed and those who had stayed on the "Lisbon Maru" till the last moment were swept out to sea.
The sea was fairly calm, and the water was not cold. There were a number of bales of cloth floating in the water, apparently having been washed out of the holds in the rear part of the ship which had been under water for some time. After being in the water for about two hours, I managed to join up with another survivor on a piece of floating wreckage. This was 'Ginger' Howell who was instrumental in unscrewing the bolts on the door and allowing men from No.3 Hold to escape. Sometime later, as we neared the island, 'Ginger' hailed a fisherman in a sampan. Ginger had lived in Shanghai previously and could speak a little of the northern dialect. The fisherman picked us up and took us to the opposite side of the island where there was a tiny beach on which he dropped us, fortunately, as the side nearest the “Lisbon Maru” was steep and rocky. Many POWs lost their lives being dashed onto the rocks.
Looking back from the top of the small island, we saw the "Lisbon Maru" slide gently beneath the waves, the superstructure still black with men. The small island we were on was roughly circular in shape, a few hundred yards across, rising to a height of about 150 ft. steeply from the sea. Our immediate aim was to find water, there was about a dozen of us. We were fortunate in discovering a small spring, oozing from the rocks. After refreshing ourselves, we went to the rocky cliffs to try and help others to get onto the island. There was a heavy swell, and many were battered to death on the sharp encrusted rocks before they could be helped to safety.
From the island a never-to-be-forgotten sight met our eyes, for as far as the eye could see, the ocean was dotted with men and wreckage. Because of the strong current, hundreds were swept past the island and out to sea to die of thirst or exposure, although some were fortunate to be picked up by fishing sampans some hours later. The island we were on was uninhabited, but in the distance, we could see some larger islands.
By evening, there were about twenty of us survivors on the island, some of whom were suffering from wounds received from small arms fire from the naval ships. We spent the night huddled together for warmth, as it was very cold at night, and we were practically naked. In the morning we attracted the attention of a fisherman, who offered to take us in his sampan, a few at a time, to a larger island about three miles away, where apparently, a Chinese village was situated. We pooled the few pitiful valuables we possessed, such as rings etc., to pay for this journey, and I imagine that that morning our friend, the fisherman, earned enough to keep himself in luxury for some time. Eventually, we all managed to get across, although the passage was very difficult as the boat was heavily loaded so there were only three or four inches of freeboard, and we were ploughing through a heavy swell in pouring rain.
On arriving at the large island, we walked up from the shore to a village in a fertile valley. We were received with much hospitality by the villagers, who put us in a temple compound, where we were given some rice and fish, the first meal we had had for three days or more. Those who had no clothing whatever were given some items of clothing, which we welcomed gratefully. We were informed that about 140 others were on this island. We were all, without exception, in a pitiful condition, due to weakness, sickness, and exposure. But, after the events of the past few days, we were glad to be on dry land again.
The Chinese were definitely anti-Japanese, although living in a Japanese dominated territory and gave us everything they could spare, and more, out of their meagre belongings, so that we spent the night in comparative comfort. (Note: Some years later, after the war had ended, I attended a presentation to these villagers, in Hong Kong, of a motorized fishing trawler and monetary awards as a token of gratitude.)