EPIC STORY OF THE SEA

New Zealand Times, Volume L, Issue 11423, 20 January 1923, Page 13

EPIC STORY OF THE SEA

CAPTAIN AND CREW IN GRIP OF FEVER. ONLY THREE FIT MEN. AMAZING VOYAGE FROM AFRICA. LONDON, November 28. The s.e. Hunstanworth, 1434 tons register, of Nevcastle-on-Tyne—mas-ter, W. Robertson, of South Shields, ■who took command when the captain was stricken with sickness —arrived up to time, at Rochester, from West Africa, with cargo. This is a bald announcement, but norv read the story of British grit that lies behind it. The Hunstanwortb, black and grim, is lying just off Strood pier in the Medway. During the whole of her voyage from Africa, she has been fighting a deadly disease which struck down man after man of the crew until only one sailor was left with the two officers. Down below a begrimed Scot chief engineer was fighting to keep up steam —watching his engines, shovelling fuel into the furnaces, and trimming the coal in the bunkers. Two delirous men in the grip of malaria were dying in their bunks, surrounded by helpless men who were themselves ill with the fever.

Hundreds of miles away, in midocean, a doctor on a fast-speeding liner was prescribing for the sick men by wireless telegraphy. The new' master, Robertson, would leave the bridge to make up the wirelessed prescriptions, and to nurse his crew. Then back to his navigation, until he and Second Officer Davidson, with the steward, Warrior (who had to cook for patients and everybody when the cook fell ill), -were almost too weary to stand. Th 9 Ilunstanworth was kept going, ploughing her way through the weather —steam up and lights burning at night as usual, fighting to reach an English port and a doctor. The ocean greyhound was becoming faint; a fog was beginning to creep up. “ . . treatment as before. . . . make for nearest port. .” The Hunstanworth picked up the last words of the far-away doctor and the ocean liner was beyond call. The stricken ship was fog-bound that night, and the doctor summoned by wireless to await her at Dartmouth was of no use. It was impossible to navigate the vessel into Dartmouth in such a dense fog. With her syren sounding, and a man taking soundings, Captain Robertson and his “chief,” Mr Davidson, brought the Hunstanworth creeping up-channel. They heard the signal at Portland Bill, but dared not attempt to go in. It was at Beachy Head that the fog first lifted, and 60on afterwards, and for the first time since the voyage began, the great strain ended. • IN PORT AT LAST. . A Trinity House pilot and a doctor came aboard, and once in the Medway 11 men were taken off, and removed to hospital. James Kerr, of Ardrossan, had died on board, and another man, E. Renwick, of South Shields, died in hospital. . The doctor ordered Robertson to bed at once, and almost every man had to receive medical attention.

It was as he lay in his bunk that Robertson told the story. “We left the Tyne two months ago,’’ he said, “for Kaolack, West- Africa. We went 72 miles up the river, and it was there that the crew were bitten and got malaria.' I had it myself, but got over it. By the time we got back to Rufisque, on the coast, men were complaining, and we sent for a. black doctor.* One man was left in hospital, and the doctor said the; others would soon Be. well. A 1 most immediately the skipper, Captain Caldicott, of Sunderland, was knocked over with it, and we put him in hospital at Las Palmas.” Going on to describe the end of the voyage, Robertson said: “We had a ship full of sick meft, in a Channel fog, and could not have found enough hands to man a boat if anything had happened.” The rest rf the crew are going on well, and Captain Caldicott is on his way to England. The malaria outbreak is attributed to the fact that the Hunstanworth went up-river just after the end of the rainy season. All Chatham is talking of the handful of men who brought the Hunstanworth home to time.