THE WRECK.

Evening Post, Volume LXIV, Issue 120, 17 November 1902, Page 4

THE WRECK.

The wreck of the EKngamite last Sunday on a rocky islet north of New Zealand will take its place among historic disasters of its class. In itself it coinbines, and on no small scale, almost all the typical features of such an event. It would be as unwise (is improper to attempt to anticipate the opinions of experls as to the causes ; these can only be judged after the enquiry, which will, we trust, be full, exacting, and exhaustive. Certain it is, that in the extremity of danger which followed the ship's officers and com|>any acquitted themselves in a manner worthy of their race and of the

noblest traditions of their profession. It is not necessary to <mlarge upon details. Daily, for a week past, column after column of particulars has been eagerly read and minutely discussed— the hopes and fears of surviving friends have been keenly shared by thousands who had no personal interest in a soul on board, and even now the fate of the twenty or thirty who may still be adrift in the missing boat is a matter of intense solicitude — the interest in the problem temporarily overshadowing all the questions of the day, public and private. Some idea of the general feeling may be inferred irom the expression it found in the places of worship yesterday. Few painful elements were absent in the narratives of the survivors. The fate of the passengers unable to escape from the sinking ship, who went down with her —the lady passenger who succumbed after reaching land— the horrors of hunger, thirst, exposure, and anxiety endured by the derelicts drifting out of sight of land, and, as they feared, beyond the reach of help— the death, one by one, of half the company on the frail raft — the sundering of family ties, and, even now, the dull agony of those who know not whether their friends are dead or still helplessly adrift— all these characterise the calamity, and mark it as one of no ordinary magnitude. But, intensely painful as the picture is, it has its reverse. Sudden emergencies, with the removal of ordinary restraints, always bring out what is best, as well as what is -worst in men, and reveal them as they are. Regarded from a higher standpoint than that which* concerns itself only with human loss, human grief, and physical suffering, the calamity is not without its aspects of grandeur, and — to use a much-abused word — of glory. Self-sacrifice, bravery, capability, and stern endurance were all manifested, and there are names already held in honour for the qualities' displayed in the hour of trial. Nor were these qualities confined to one sex. As in the unforgotten case of the Wairarapa, a stewardess compelled! admiration by the exhibition of the noblest qualities of humanity. None who were lost will be more sincerely mourned than Miss M'Guirk, the forecabin stewardess. There is no Victoria Cross for the heroes of civil life; but higher qualities are manifested in times such as this than are displayed even in "the imminent deadly breach." The community, too, ha« had a shock not altogether unwholesome or unneeded, which tends to widen its sympathies and lift it a little out of the daily , groove, as well as to a truer, estimation of the proportion of things. There is, moreover, a lesson to the pessimists who deplore national decadence and declare thab Britain is "on the down-grade." Once again it has .been shown that the race has lost none of its finer qualities— that when need arises there is still to be found the swift intelligence to devise, and the executive skill to accomplish. Only by exceptional capacity and determination was the event redeemed from being a calamity of far greater magnitude. The practical lessons of the disaster concern the community most deeply. Such is the efficiency of our maritime service, so able are its officers and so admirably co-ordinated its working details, that the community looks for the arrival of a ma-ilboat at the appointed day and hour almost as it looks for the appearance of sunrise. It is such a. matter of course, that laxity in preparation for unforeseen accident may easily occur. Some of the more agonising hardships of the castaways were preventible. It should not be necessary, for instance, in case of sudden accident, to have to provision the life-boats with food and water — there is not always time even to launch and man them. The permanent equipment of lifeboats and raft* with everything necessary for emergency is a matter which in future will, we hope, be insisted upon. For the public, the first practical question is the supply of the necessities of those left in warit by the disaster. In this respect our community has never failed before, and is not likely to neglect its duty on this occasion.