IN SEARCH OF THE NORTH ISLAND

Manawatu Times, Volume 61, Issue 290, 8 December 1936, Page 5

IN SEARCH OF THE NORTH ISLAND

The Wreck of the H.M.S. Orpheus

(Part 3-28—Copyright)

Tho playground of this classical romance of tlio Maori, Manukau harbour, ■was also the scene of a great maritime disaster, the wreck of H.M.S. Orpheus on Manukau bar on the morning February 7th, 1863. Of 1600 tons and mounting 21 guns and with a total complement of 256 souls tho Orpheus, under Commander Burnett, sailed from Sydney for duty on the New Zealand station, but instead of making Auckland tho vessel was brought to the entrance of Manukau harbour where it was proposed to join H.M.S. Harriet which was lyin« r at anchor on tho waters over which the canoes of the Ngati Kahukoka and those of the Nga.lwi once sailed. It was a beautifully line day when tho Orhpeus hove in sight of tho harbour entrance and those on board "were eagerly looking foward to an early arrival. There was nothing to suggest that disaster was lurking in the offing. Here was a well found and comparatively new ship of war racing gracefully under canvas and steam to the promising haven of Manukau —the pride of tho Navy, of the officers and crew as well and, under a clear sky and hot sunshine, she cut a fine ligure as she set a course to take the channel laid down in the old chart prepared during the survey conducted by H.M.S. Pandora some years previously. Why Commander Burnett relied on this.chart which had been subsequently amended will never be known He was in possession of the latest soundings of the harbour entrance but ignored these when he received tho signal from the shore to take tho bar. Those at the signal station, when signalling the Orpheus to take the bar, assumed that Commander Burnett would take the north channel and when they discovered that the vessel was setting a course for the south channel, which was unsafe, they hastened to hoist a signal advising Commander Burnett to take the north channel. There was no response from the ship to this direction •so the signal station immediately sent up another signal directing the Orpheus to stand out to sea. This also was ignored and the vessel continued on her course and on to her doom. Tho failure of those on the Orpheus to acknowledge the signals caused the greatest consternation to those at the signal station who could do nothing further but watch this line ship of war sail into danger and pray that Providence would guide her from the shoals which had rendered this channel so dangerous for navigation. Drawing 12 feet the Orpheus proceeded on and soon touched one of the shoals and then swung clear only to engage another in whicn she held fast. With her sails filled and her propellor going at top speed the vessel was carried with some force into the sand bank and while immediate steps were taken to reduce way, the Orpheus was securely trapped and fated to become, in a few short hours, a complete wreck. Bven at tno moment of striking the sand bank there was no thought among those on board of the tragedy which was to follow this mischance, ihe morning was so perfect that those on Hoard, notwithstanding tho seriousness of their plight, had no reason to suppose that considerably more than hall of their number would be no more bo fore another day dawned. And hopes ran high as tho little coastal steamei, Wonga Wonga, in charge of Captain Kenner, was seen approaching towards tho south channel, outward bound from Onekunga. Of small draught the Wonga Wonga could safely negotiate tho south channel and it was customary, in favourable conditions, for the smaller craft to use this outlet. Her appearance, therefore, seemed timely and rescue from their plight appeared only a matter of minutes, but tkoso on ike Orpheus reckoned not of the might of the sea.

The slow, ambling swell of tiio Tasman came sweeping in upon the stern of the Orpheus driving her, inch by* inch, deeper into the grip of the sand bank while the crew worked frantically to clew down the sails and secure their ship for the prospective rescue. 'There was no time to reason out this turn of fate for the crew were too busily engaged in carrying out the orders of their commander and besides, with the Wonga Wonga approaching, it seemed almost certain that before long they would be transhipped, fcioon, however, the seas commenced to wash aboard of the doomed vessel and it was decided to make an effort to lower the boats and mako an attempt to get lines ashore but the heavy swell swamped many of the boats and only one was successful in getting away to the signal station. Boats were lowered from the Wonga Wonga which presently drew as near as safety permitted to the doomed ship of war. Many' of the sailors jumped overboard and somo were successful in reaching the boats of the Wonga Wonga but as the day drew out the swell increased and rescue became out of the question. The Wonga Wonga was compelled to retiro to safety and leave those still on board the Orpheus to whatever the fates had in store for them.

The situation on board the ill-fated vessel became increasingly dangerous and towards evening it became necessary for‘the sailors to take to the rigging there to wait and pray for rescue. The Wonga Wonga stook up a position as near as she could and remained, so near and yet so far, an inaccessible haven. The great ship lurched and strained to the tune of tho mighty Tasman swell which, as night came down, seemed determined to destroy this splendid production of the Admiralty dockyard at Chatham. A few hours before, the pride of the ocean, and now reduced to a wreck with tragedy ready to strike.

With the close of day tho seas increased arid under the severe stress of the staining the ship commenced to weaken. Great lumbering seas smashed over the stern with relentless power to eary away the guns from their mountings. To those in the rigging tho crashing, creaking and straining of the hull became the distressing music of

tragedy—the prelude of disaster. Enveloped in darkness officers and sailors cluDg to the trembling spars, not knowing the moment when they would bo plunged to the deck below or thrown out into the angry swell. At about nine o'clock the masts commenced to go, crashing over the side one by one, and hurling the sailors into the seas. Utterably unable to do anything those on the Wonga Wonga were silent witnesses of this grim tragedy. Peering through the darkness they could well imagine what was happening as the sounds of crashing came across the waters to their ears. The great vessel, . . she of sixteen hundred 1 tons. . . ” was breaking up. But what of those lives on board? Out of the darkness and simultaneous with the crashing of. one of the masts, came the sound of cheering—the farewell of those clinging to the falling spar to their comrades who, in a moment or two, were to experience their turn. Morning dawned to reveal the tragedy of the night. There was the Orpheus a complete wreck, the vessel broken in two and quite beyond redemption. Of the crew of 256 souls only eight officers and 63 sailors were saved. Fourteen officers, including Commander Burnett, and 171 men, met their doom during the hours of darkness. They had sailed their last voyage and went out into the unknown when their lot seemed never happier. News of the tragedy travelled slowly. It was some time before it reached Auckland and even those on the Harriet did not receive the terrible intelligence until late at night when it was impossible to do anything. The official enquiry conducted by tho Naval authorties placed the blame and responsibility for the disaster on Burnett. The evidence showed that the navigating officer on the Orpheus had received tho signal from the signal station to take the northern channel .and had taken steps to alter his course when the directions were countermanded by Burnett. It was also established that the vessel had been supplied with the amended chart of the entrance to Manukau but it will never be known why Burnett decided to rely on the soundings of H.M.S. Pandora. JTo be continued),