STORIES OF NEW ZEALAND.

Auckland Star, Volume LXVII, Issue 289, 5 December 1936, Page 2 (Supplement)

STORIES OF NEW ZEALAND.

By JAMES COWAN.

THE WRECK OF H.M.S. ORPHEUS—TRAGEDY OF THE MANUKAU BAR—THE FATAL SANDS OF " TARA'S FISHING NET."

A tall ship, her three masts crowded with sail, came marching in to the blue-looming coast on a beautiful February morning in 18t53. In the hot sunshine her towers of canvas glistened a pearly whita. .Her brass work and the guns on her deck made dazzling points of fire as she rolled rhythmically in her stately dance, a fine sou'-west breeze filling her sails. The wind was right behind her and her yards were squared. A waft of smoke from a funnel amidships indicated that steam aided her sails. Her great single topsails, huge expanses of canvas which required many pairs of bands for the reefing and furling, the extra "wing or studding sail set on her foretopmast on the starboard side (right hand looking forward), and other details of rig, and her rows of gunports showed that she was a warship. The White Ensign of Britain flew at her peak. Oflicers stood on the bridge that crossed her deck structure a little way forward of the short funnel. There were 10 of those square gun-ports on each side of her black hull. Her armament and build classed her as a corvette, a useful type of Navy ship which represented at that period the kind of vessel we would call light cruisers to-day. This handsome ship of war, rapidly approaching the entrance to Manukau Harbour under sail and screw, was the Orpheus, a name that in a few hours was to become a cry of grief and that to-day embodies a memory of the greatest maritime disaster on our coast. The Orpheus was an almost new •vessel of 1G23 tons, mounting 21 guns. Five of these were breechloading Armstrong guns; the others were the old pattern smooth bores. She was built at the Admiralty dockyard at Chatham in 18G0, and was one of the earliest British warships to be fitted with a screw propeller. Her crew numbered '250 all told. She was on her way from Sydney to take up duty on the New Zealand station, and it was at first intended that she should make for Auckland, but her commander, Commodore Burnett, decided to enter Manukau Harbour. With that beautiful weather and a smooth appearing bar,- all the conditions were propitious for a saife arid easy arrival in port, where a smaller Navy vessel, H.M.S. Harrier, was already lying.

The watchers at the Manukau Heads signal station, which was then on tlie North Head, saw the warship arrive off the bar about noon that day, February 7. The signal to "take the bar'' was hoisted. The ship was in the right position to enter the harbour by the north channel. It was assumed that the navigators were in possession of the proper sailing directions. But the signalman, young Captain Wing, to his surprise saw her head across towards the old south channel, which was not safe; the sand banks had shifted since the bar was surveyed by H.M.S. Pandora. The oflicers of H.M.S. Niger, a vessel which was frequently in and out of the Manukau. had amended the Pandora's soundings, and a copy of the latest sailing directions had been posted to Commodore Burnett at Sydney. When the signalman saw the vessel heading into danger he made the signal "Keep to the north." This was disregarded, and a signal was hoisted to atand out to sea. But this, too, was unheeded, and very soon afterwards the ship, making for the south channel, touched the western end of the middle Shoals, which extend several miles out to sea. She was drawing 21ft of water and only the north channel was safe for vessels of her draft. On the Fatal Sandbank. After striking its hidden bank the corvette, forced on by the pressure of the wind in her sails and the impulse of her propeller, drove on over the sand into deeper water, but

a few moments later struck the sands again. This time she stuck fast, and the long swell setting in from the Tasman Sea sent her deeper and deeper into the sand. The engines had been ordered full speed astern, but the propeller did not work. It had probably been broken ofT with her rudder, in driving through the first sand bar. The topsails were let go at the same time, and were quickly furled. The other principal sails were clewed up hastily, but there was no time to stow them. Now the ship gradually swung round with her head to the north, thus presenting her broadside to the rollers that came plunging in from the ocean. The surf was breaking all around her, and soon heavy seas were bursting over her and sweeping the decks. A Steamer to the Rescue. .Tust at this time a coasting steamer, the Wonga Wonga (an Australian name) was passing outward from Onehunga by the south channel, which was safe for a vessel of her light' draft. Captain Renner, her master, at once altered his course and steered for the wrecked ship. He approached as closely as he could and lowered his boats. The warship had already attempted to get her boats away, but all were swamped or smashed except one, which got clear and made for the pilot and signal station. Some of the sailors jumped into the sea from the bowsprit and jib-l>oom and were picked up by the Wonga Wonga's boats.

Now the scene on hoard the doomed ship was a pitiful picture of helplessness. There were all those fine, vigorous men, brave, able-bodied Britons, deprived of all means of reaching shore and safety. Their boats were swept awav, they were unable to make rafts because the great seas were continually breaking over the deck and the lower masts. There was nothing for it but, to take to the rigging and wait. The yards and shrouds were crowded with sailors looking despairingly for rescue. The sun went down in a blaze of glory, the end of a lovely mid-summer day. The beauty of the evening was a fearful mockery to those poor men clinging there for their lives. At Oneliunga, 20 miles away, H.M.S. Harrier was lying, but it was night before the news of the wreck reached her. and by that time all was over. There was no telegraph between the town and the pilot station. About six o'clock in the evening Commodore Burnett, who was in the inizzen rigging, hailed the men and asked them to pray to God. There was nothing to do but to wait. He would be the last to leave the ship. Some of the sailors slid down the fore-topmast stay and dropped into the sea; a few were picked up. The AVonga Wonga had no rocket apparatus for rescue, and all her master could do was to lie to in the channel as close as he could to the Orpheus. (Continued on page 109.)