THE WRECKED TRAWLER

Evening Star, Issue 19891, 13 June 1928, Page 6

THE WRECKED TRAWLER

A FIGHT FOR LIFE CREW’S TERRIBLE PLIGHT A GRAPHIC ACCOUNT. [Peu United Pkess Association.] AUCKLAND. June 13. Henry Double, one of tho crew of the trawler Thomas Bryan, wrecked at Rauparoa Heads, says ho was at the holm at 11.30 on Sunday night, when the vessel ran on tho rocks. A Norwegian seaman on the lookout saw the rocks a second or two earlier, and just as lie shouted out a warning Double saw a great bulk of cliffs looming ahead. Ho put the helm hard over, but the trawler struck. Tho propeller went first, and then tho lifeboat. It was a filthy night, with a howling wind and rain pelting in torrents. The few first minutes on the rocks were terrible. “Wo were at the mercy of tho mountainous seas, which burst over us with a roar. The little ship trembled and shuddered under the weight of the merciless inmacts. Captain Holt was splendid. lie had all hands mustered and equipped with lifebelts. It looked pretty hopeless, but there was no panic. The deck wan awash, and we clung to the rails for hours. Tho sea seemed to increase in violence as we became more and more exhausted. By the captain’s orders rockets were fired into the inky sky, but only wo chaps on the trawler saw them. Tho whistle was blown, but the sound was lost in tho storm. 1 staggered to the after cabin to got at my belongings, but tho place was full of water, and wo lost everything. Then I tried to got into tho engine room, but it was half full of water. [ put in some time with two others in tho forecastle, but we had to leave it after a while. Drenched to tho skin, and so miserable that one or two of tho chaps felt like releasing their grip and ending it all, we hung on till low water. “ We saw a blpmk ledge of rock show up every now L - ad again. The skipper gave tho word, and wo went for it one at a time, running tho gauntlet of the surf. A rope was lowered over the trawler’s side, and each man had to wait till tho wave receded, and then dash shorewards. It meant a light for life in the surf, but all ten of us survived it. Huddled on a ledge below frowning cliffs, with the sea beating remorselessly on tho base, our plight was seemingly hopeless. We were wet to tho skin and chilled by tho bleak spray of tho drenched wind. “Then wo started to climb the cliff, about 1,500 ft to 2,000 ft high. It seemed dawn would never break. I went up tho face of the cliff from ledge to ledge, and thought I would never reach the top. I was exhausted, and threw myself down on tho grass when I did get there. Down below I saw tho trawler, with deckhouse in flames.” Double then proceeded to describe in less graphic terms the trip with tho other survivors to tho Port Charles Post Office.