Ships and the Sea.

Hutt News, Volume 1, Issue 17, 18 November 1927, Page 1

Ships and the Sea.

The frightful harbour disaster which a few- days ago shocked the people of Australia and New Zealand, has given its another striking example of the heroism and unselfishness of, the British people in danger's hour. True to the best traditions of our race, even young children, on the illfated ferry steamer did what they could to succour those less fortunate than they were. There was the case of an engineer who had received frightful injuries, but who- refused proffered help because, he considered his need to be far less than that of many others. Shipwrecks, fortunately are not very common, but when one does occur, it always seems to give us one more striking illustration of the fortitude and courage of our race. Whenever there has been a wreck off our coasts we always read of tales of heroism and devotion to duty,, not pnly on the part of men but as frequently, perhaps, on the part of women. The wrecks of the "Wairarapa," "Elingamite," "Penguin" all afforded striking illustrations of how brave and unselfish the British man and the British women, always are in danger's hour. Who has forgotten the story of the "Wairarapa's" stewardess! Let us refer once again to an immortal story- The story of the "Birkenhead." On. the night of 25th February, 1852, the "Birkhenhead," a British troopship stuck a sunken reef off Cape Agulhas, the southernmost part of Cape Colway. At the time the vessel had on board 500 soldiers, and 134 crew, with a number of women and children. The behaviour of the soldiers after the ship struck is an immortal story. The women and children were put into the boats. The men fell in arid stood to their l'anks as firmly as on parade; while the ship went down under them. All refused to jump and make for the boats, as by doing this they woixld have imperilled the safety of the women and children. Only 192 people were saved. The wreck of the "Titanic" and the loss of the "Lusitania" furnished us with further

examples of this great fortitude, this inherent willingness to help the weaker. This theyne, courage in moments of peril, a seemingl compulsion to help those in danger, has inspired many of our greatest novelists. Let us retell the story of the wreck in "David Copperfiv i":— "There was a bell on board, and as the ship rolled and dashed, like a desperate creature driven mad, now showing us the whole sweep of her deck, as she turned on her beam-ends towards the shore, now showing but her keel, as she sprung wildly over and turned towards the sea, the bell rang, and its sound, the knell of those unhappy men, was borne towards us on the wind. Again we lost her, and again she rose. Two men were gone. The agony on shore increased. Men groaned, and clasped their hands; women, shrieked, and turned away their faces. Some ran wildly up and down along the beach, crying for help where no help could be The wreck even to my unpractised eye was breaking up. I saw that she was parting in the middle, and that the life of the solitary man upon the mast hung by a thread. Still he clung to it. ... Ham watched the sea, standing alone, with the silence of suspended breath behind him, and the storm before, until there was a great retiring >vave, when with a backward glance at "-hose v'iio held the rope which was made fast round his body, he dashed in after it, and in a moment was buffeting with the water; rising with the hills, falling with the valleys, lost beneath the foam; then drawn again to land. They hauled in hastily. He was hurt! I saw blood on his face; but he took no thought of that. He seemed to give them some direction for leaving him more free; and was gone as before. : The distance was nothing; but the power of the sea and wind made the strife deadly. At length he neared the wreck. He was so near, that with one more of his vigorous strokes he would be clinging to it—when a high, green, vast hillside of water moving on shorewards, from beyond the ship, he seemed to leap up into it with a mighty bound and the ship was gone. Consternation was in every face. They drew him to my feet—insensible—dead. He was carried to the nearest house and, no one preventing me now, I remained near him, busy, while every means of restoration were tried; but he ?iad been beaten to death by the great wave, and his generous heart was silenced for ever."