A THRILLING ADVENTURE.

Manawatu Herald, Volume XLVIII, Issue 3551, 16 October 1926, Page 4

A THRILLING ADVENTURE.

EXPERIENCES OF CREW OF LAUNCH DAUNTLESS.

Despite four days’ privation and exposure, the crew of the Dauntless, the launch which experienced difficulties after leaving Lyttelton last Sunday, and which was not picked up until Tuesday, the crew were remarkably fit when they climbed up the Jacob's ladder on to the ferry steamer Maori -unassisted, and reached the deck of the steamer little ■the worse for their trying experience. They had had neither food nor drink since Sunday morning. The men had a thrilling story to tell, says the Dominion., Late on Sunday water got into the magneto, and'the engine became useless. A sail was hoisted, but during the night it carried away. Then a makeshift sail was rigged* and by its aid the Dauntless was kept as near as possible in the track of the ferry steamers.

Scores of watersiders and residents gathered on the Wellington ferry wharf to await the arrival of the Maori. As the steamer neared her berth someone in the crowd called for cheers for Captain B. Irwin, master of the Maori, which were heartily given. The Mayor of Lyttelton (Mr F. E. Sutton) congratulated Captain Irwin, his officers, and crew on rescuing the Dauntless and her crew. Before leaving the Maori McNeil called his two companions and gave Captain Irwin three hearty Ichcers. Each afterwards shook the captain by the hand and thanked him for the kind way he had treated them after their rescue: LUCKY TO BE SIGHTED. Captain Irwin said that the men were lucky in having been sighted. Heavy weather had been expl’icnced and the vessel was running behind tijne, otherwise the Dauntless would have been passed during the darkness. The craft was seen about 5 a.m. by the chief officer (Mr J. 11. Miller) who was on duty and keeping a watch for any signs of her. Mr Miller first noticed a speck, which he took to be J* log, rising and falling on the swell about, two or three milks away. Ho took the steamer off her course and circled the object. Finding it to be the Dauntless, the steamer -was hove to, a rope ladder was dropped over the side, and McLean followed by Breen and McNeil scaled nimbly aboard, to pass the comment “It is a cold morning.’ Nothing else was said for the moment. The work of hoisting the Dauntless on to the ship’s davit was carried out under great difficulties owing to the rolling of the Maori in the swell.

RAN INTO HOWLING GALE. John McNeil, skipper and owner of the Dauntless, related their experiences. “We left Lyttelton at 8 o’clock on Sunday morning,” he said, “to do some fishing off Ripa Island buoy. We had an engine, but in order to save benzine, we used our sails. Off Ripa Island the sea became very rough, and we ran into a howling southerly, with increasing seas. It now became necessity to use the engine if we were to inake headway as we wished to make for home. The engine, we found, was ‘dead,’ after water having been shipped and worked into the magneto and battery. The wind and sea were increasing. We were blown outside the Heads, where we were tossside the Heads, where we were toceed on mountainous seas, which broke over us. We shipped a great deal of water, and only by constant hailing did we avoid being swamped. “On Sunday afternoon we made an unsuccessful attempt to run for Little Akaloa. We came very close but the wind blew us off-shore and carried us up towards Motunau Island. We could have sheltered under Motunau, but our anchor, we discovered, had gone overboard. Later in the evening, the mainsail carried away in a squall, and for a brief spell we pitched and tossed like a cork. Our craft, however, rose to it, and during a lull we rigged a sail from what was left. We were now sideways on to the wind and were carried to within five miles ot tiie Lyttelton Heads. We tried to make the harbour beating up against the wind, but we lost headway and were driven back again. The seas continued with unabated force. At one moment we were on the top of a huge sea, and at the next we were plunged down into a trough with mountains of water rearing high and' angrily over our heads. We were drifting out to sea, and it became obvious that unless the wind let up our only course for safety was to keep the launch in teh line of the ferry boats. All Sunday night we tacked backwards and; forwards along a line as near to the line ot the ferry as possible.” SLEEPLESS VIGIL. Since Saturday night, be added, there had been practically no sleep for any of them. Occasionally land would come into sight, but it was but a black low splash in the distance. As Tuesday wore on Breen discussed the advisability ot trying to run the boat up on a beach the next time they should get close to land. “Can you swim?” asked McNeil, who knows the dangers of the coast near the Heads. “No,” said Breen; and McNeil decided to endeavour to get the boat into the course of the ferry steamer that would be making for Lyttelton the next morning. As the cold dawn crept over the water this morning McLean stood with eyes straining in the direction from which the Maori was expected to appear, and he was the first of the trio to sight the lights of the ferry steamer. As

the Maori bore down upon them the three men raised a shout of: delight. It was the first boat they had sighted since they had been swept out to sea.