LOOTING AND SWINDLING

Lake Wakatip Mail, Issue 4326, 10 August 1937, Page 2

LOOTING AND SWINDLING

TALES OF THE SEA EARLY DAYS ON LONDON'S RIVER Before the West India Docks came into existence in 1802 London’s river might have served as a school for Chinese pirates or a training ground for Chicago crooks (writes David Masters in the ‘Evening News’). The lower reaches were infested with criminals who lived solely by looting ships, and the amount they got away with was considered to be anything between £2-50.000 and £BOO,OOO a year. They worked in gangs under leaders in quite the American style, and there were receivers who had big organisations for disposing of the loot. They were knitted together in a gigantic conspiracy in which officers on the ships were often implicated, for they used to turn their backs while part of the cargo was pushed overboard into boats or else put into the water for the river thieves to pick up. The magnitude to which the looting grew, with the concomitant outrages, fed to the matter being brought before Parliament. The result was the forerunner of the present dock system which eventually sounded the knell of the scum infesting the river. On the other hand, men like G. Easterby and his partner, W. MTarla ne, trailed the honour of ship owners in the mud, for, sheltering under good reputations, they plotted to throw away a ship in order to swindle the underwriters of Lloyd’s. Buying the brig Adventure in May, 1.802, they began to fill her with cargo for Mediterranean ports —linen, hats, watches, silverware, and musical instruments. Ostentatiously loading this into the Adventure during the day, they toiled all night to transfer it to their other ship which was sailing for the West Indies. Then they suborned Captain William Codling to cast away the ship, although he was reluctant to do so. Her supercargo and mate, who were determined not to bo mixed up in the plot, loft her, so Captain Codling appointed an ignorant young deck hand as mate. The night before the deed was done the captain befuddled the whole crew with rum, so that the young mate simply did what he was told when ordered to drill holes in the ship’s timbers. Next morning she sank off Brighton, or Brighthelmstone, as it was called in those days. The owners raged at Codling for sinking her there instead of off the French coast, and directly they saw she could be raised they gave Codling sgs and told him to flee. He rushed by coach to Harwich, followed by Lloyd’s agent, Captain Douglas, who finally traced him to a packet boat and arrested him. He was tried for his life at the Old Bailey, along with the owners. Owing to loopholes in the law the owners escaped; but, as throwing away a ship was a capital offence. Codling was found guilty and duly hanged at Execution Another swindle started in Smyrna, when a set of villains filled the Adelphi Couppa with rubbish under the guise of valuable cargo. Casks of sea water represented olive oil, crushed acorns passed as valuable opium, and road sweepings were packed in boxes and faced with sultanas and currants to represent the finest dried fruits. Insuring the cargo for £200,000 at Lloyd’s, the owners arranged with their captain to sink the ship in the Mediterranean ; but a hint filtered through to London. On March 31, 1895, the Adelphi Couppa left Smyrna, but whenever her master steeled himself to do the deed something was wrong—bad weather jeopardised the chances of escape, there was no obliging rock on which to impale the ship, or else another ship hanging around made it impossible to scuttle her. The result was that the owner, who was waiting at Gibraltar to welcome the shipwrecked crew and send in Ms claim to Lloyd’s saw the Adelphi Couppa pulling safe and sound into harbour. We can guess what he said to the master before the steamer left for England. leaving the owner to wait a little longer for the news of her loss. The skipper’s intentions were bad enough, but by this time his courage had evaporated; the steamers always in sight made the job too risky, so he was forced to take the ship, safely to the Thames. The owner was in a cleft stick. Directly the hatches were opened his swindle would he exposed. As no claim had been made aginst the underwriters they could do nothing. They tried to buy some cargo from

a consignee to force the captain to open the hatches, but the owner forestalled them. Then the captain took the ship just within the jurisdiction of the Port of London to allow the insurances to lapse and deprive Lloyd s of all interest in the ship. The underwriters countered by putting the famous Captain J. L. Milbank of the Salvage Association on the job. Finding the hatches sealed when he boarded the ship at Gravesend, lie itched to break them open, but his respect for the law forbade him.

The Adelphi Couppa fled back to tlie .Mediterranean, with Captain Milbank rushing overland to expose the villainy. When she arrived at Smyrna with her hatches still sealed he tried in vain to induce the officials to act, although the whole port was agog with the plot. Eventually, when the owner tried to got through the Dardanelles to get rid of the incriminating cargo in the Black Sea the Turkish officials were persuaded to turn her back, and on her arrival at Smyrna the plot was exposed and the' captain went to gaol. The plotters were said to have spent £20.000 on their attempt to swindle Lloyd's. A Maltese fireman who went raving

mad gave the captain and crew of the Algerian Prince a bad time some years ;igo on the homeward trip. When he ivas reported missing, and could not be round, it was assumed that he had mne overboard. Two days later he

was located hiding on the boiler tops, where the temperature was 176deg.

ow ho survived was a mystery. After an interval he ran amok with

a razor, injuring a seaman before Second Engineer W. Twizell managed to quieten him. Breaking out again, he barricaded himself in the storeroom

off the engine room, and tried to fire the ship with oil and cotton waste. To save the steamer, the captain and crew were obliged *to force the door

and capture him. Brandishing an axe and a razor, he raved at them, and a shot in each arm did not affect him at all. In the end Twizell most pluckily tackled him, and they got him in irons, being nearly flung to their deaths in the crankpits by his demoniacal struggles before they could get him out of the engine room Shipping circles were greatly concerned over the Commonwealth liner Jervis Bay during her voyage back from Australia to the Thames in June, 1928, when her master. Captain F. Daniel, wirelessed for the help of a warship.

“ Having trouble with eight desperate stowaways. Threatening to set ship on fire. Send immediate assistance.”

As the stowaways, who were found after leaving Australia, refused to do light work and began molesting women passenger’s, they were shut up. They broke out, and there was a terrific fight to get them .back again. A big negro, smashing, his handcuffs with an iron bar, led a second escape, and that night they tried to fire the ship.

The naval authorities at Colombo promptly sent out a party in the Slavol to intercept the liner, while H.M.S. Suffolk also sought her. Meanwhile, Captain Daniel managed to get the desperate men under lock and key and keep them there until, escorted by the Slavol, the Jervis Bay arrived at Colombo, where all the men were tried the same afternoon and sentenced to five and a-half months’ hard labour. In these days London’s river is a law-abiding place. The dock police keep such a sharp eye that dock workers think twice about pilfering, and the river police are always on the alert for any boat that may be lurking suspiciously in the shadows. Just over a century ago Loudon’s river was indeed the happy hunting ground of criminals. To-day it is so rigidly guarded and controlled that it has almost a clean sheet.