TRAGEDIES OF THE SEA.

NZ Truth, Issue 137, 1 February 1908, Page 8

TRAGEDIES OF THE SEA.

LOSS OF THE LOCH ARD On the Rockbomid Victorian Coast* BOY AND GIRL ONLY SURVIVE. Sixteen Passengers and 29 Seamen Drowned* Kccd now lashed on by destiny severe, <.. .. With horror fraught the dreadful scene 'draws nearr( .*tfhe ship hangs hovering- on the verge of death, ■> Hell yawns, rocks rise, and breakers roar beneath' K ( Uplifte-'l on the surge, to heaven she flies, - Her shattered top half buried m the skies ; Then, headlong plunging, thunders* on the ground ? Earth groans^! air tremjbles !; and the deeps resound.—Falconer.;

• $2 t,hj Victorian Coast, a few miles from! Cape ] Otway, a long bight of grey clifis runs between Moonlight Head and Port Campbell. Ranging fropi IQO to 150 feet , high, edged at /the .top -with ferns and ti-tree, and! broken at the bottom with a. few small bays, each having its crescent of- sand, it presents a perpendicular .wall of rock to "^e mariner. One ot ithese ,bays is io-uewhat larger than jthe rest, and boasts a few bushes, Sprung from seed wafted toy the winds from tlie surface overly" -yd, and one «nd the ,se£ lias, worn out. a couple of ■caves " m. the progress of its work. 2rbr v ithe never-tired sea does its work tty 'first Of 'all -grinding put the caves at its level,, and, enlarging the hole *fcill its roof and sides fall m, to give a fresh-face for it to undermine. : It Was m this bay, locally known as •'The Caves," that there occurred «n« of the rcnost • , DISASTROUS AND ROMANTIC, irreokij: that has ever taken place on fche grand and wild Victorian coast. knd"this was :the wreck of the Loch The Loch Ard was one of four Iron dippers, launched by Connell, a shipbuilder of the Clyde, and all of tbt| ioar were lost' at sea. Of her sister ahirß, the Asia left ' Newcastle for Scotland, and was never heard of .aC&in . The •' same fate overtook the ; ftir'ica, and also the America, under" fcer second name of the Loch Lagfan. : The Loch, Ard left London on March 1, 1578, with a crew of 30 and fc.7 passengers. She was a full-rigged ship of 1326 tons register, but, as is customary with ships under our present tonnage laws, her burden was much . greater, and, m this case was, nearly doubled, for her cargo amountad to 3275 tons. Let it not be supposed, however, that she was overloaded ; the overplus simply means ♦hat her designer had made the best •f" the "" measuring formula, and" produced a ship that would have her port dues 'and tolls calculated on a favorable basis.' The Loch Ard was towed down the Tfeami&s, rounded Dover, and cast off fier tow-line m the, Channel. Three months later, to the day, oh June 1, a static hand named Ford was out from Sherlwrooke mustering shcrop m fho vicinity of The Caves. As he was rMing about and! rounding m thesheep, he caught sight of a boy near HSw.'odge of the cliff. Going up to fthn he noticed that he appeared to b 9 m need of assistance, and that his SCARRED FACE AND HANDS at* torn clothing told a tale with«Bt words. It was' Thomas Pearce, a» apprentice of the Loch A«rd, and he iWloimed the rouseabout that the »Mp had gone to pieces on the rocks fctidw, and that all had perished exe«t a girl and himself. - • All had gone well with the Loch 3U-d until two days before, when the sroather prevented an oTjseryation beUk made, and her coutse had been Bhaped to clear Cape Otway without h«r position being -checked. Ertoncr •wing to her compasses being affected, or to some unusual current, she headed too far to the north, and at 4 o'clock ' on ' : the Saturday morning the lookout" sighted a reef half ; a mile from the ship. «,The Loch Ard Was then sailing before the wind untier close-reefed topsails, advancing, cautiously lest there should be danger m the path, for, owing to fa}lRre to get an . observation, neither Captain Gibbs nor the mate, McLachlan, had thought it wise to carry on. too"- fast;- . . ' As soqn as the alarm was given, the captain set more canvas, and Itriedtq wear the vessel, but ; she (would not /come round. Then the anchors, were dropped •: and the sail furl-' ed; arid:- then;' '-as .'■"— / TI^E ANCHORS DRAGaBD, more .sail was . set, . and the vessel *s head gradually, brought' up to the .wind,. -Before, froweyeri the Loch Ard could be got out of -the bay, she Urifted a.gbod. deal to leeward, and, (just as day was breaking, her starboard''quarter., strjick on a sunken j rocJc. With the ; shock the fore-topmast came down with a run, and knocked Kiwo of the crew overboard ; and so great was the hole made, m the hull fchat the. water poured m like a cataract. Before there was time to get Ittie boats off the skids, too, where •they had all , been stowed instead of iome of them being on the • davits, !khe Loch Ard had gone to -^pieces. Pearce was thrown into the- sea, but, rising to the surface, found himtself (underneath a boat that was floating keel uppermost- Diving again, he KOt from under her, and clung to her aide. At first he drifted towards the 'beach, Vbut finding the swamped boat beginning to. drift out. to , sea 1 again, Jie left her &nd managed to SWIM TO THE SH3ORE. fThere he remained for a few minutes, safe, though somewhat cut about, jind looked but over the bay, now all crowded with wreckage. ' Suddenly he heard a scream, and clinging to a spar m the distance, he caught sight- of one of the passengers, a girl of about his own age, named Eva Carmiohael. Throwing ©B most of his clothing, because of Sts hampering effect, he boldly went (into the water and swam to her aid. St took some time,/ for : the girl was drifting slowly seawards, but at last -he reached her. Catchiwg her m his teeth, and finding a taMe floating by, be seized it* aud, atawdoaing the

spar, m time he brought the girl sufely ashore.: 'As she touched the land she fainted, and Pearce oarried her into ONE OF THE . CAVES, and left her on the sand while he returned and broke open a keg of spirits which was being washed about among the rocks. The stimulant fairly restored her, and then he went out, cind with his knife cut some coaTse grass for a bed, on which he left I'er lying while he went off m search of help. 'At one end of the fragment of beach was the cave, at the other was an unforoken wall of rock, against which the sand ended abruptly. To the right and to the left of him there was no ~ay along the foot of the cliffs. He had been thrown on a shelf, as it were, and as the tide went t^-^n it simply bared the face of the cliff, which outside the bay ran deep' into the waves. In? the crescent . was the patch of ti-tree bushes, and around * these grew the grass. The margin of the sea was dotted by pieces of the ship and her cargo left by the receding tide. Behind was the cliff wall, rising to an irojmense height,' offering, at first sight not even a ledge for A SEABIRD TO REST ON. » As there was no hope of help from the sea, or from the right or left, the only thing to do was to try and climb the cliffs, and this Pearce startod to do, but how he succeeded m clinging to the face of the rock is a ; mystery. He made his way along and up, backwards and forwards, and sometimes downwards - again, m search of better footing; and at last reached the top m safety. There he lay for a time to rest, and then he started to -walk—^ whither ? Around him was an open country, flat, and unvaried, with not a sign of habitation 1 , or even human life. Looking over the cliff, he found he could not see the beach bejow, so he MARKED THE SPOT, and then' set ; out towards the west. After wandering for a couple of miles he found a track, and shortly afterwards he jnct Ford, who was on horseback. As soon as Pearce told the news, the rider hurried to the station for assistance, which came immediately. / The T "2acti, as we have said, being inaccessible . from all sides, . Gibson, the master of Ford, .. had 'brought blankets and wraps, with ropes ne- | cessary for descending the cliffs. It was nearly dark wnen they reached the spot marked by Pearce, and the descent took some time. When they were on the beach eventually,,: the ship's apprentice led the way to where he had left Eva Carmicael ASLEEP ON THE GRASS. f •But the cave was empty, and m vain they searched fur her along the sand and m the caves. On the sand were her footprints,, crossing and re-cross- i ing one another, but affording a poor clue to men who were not expert trackers. Night had fallen, and by the aid of lanterns the searchers were trying to make out from the footprints the direction she had tak- | en. Then a sob was heard, and then a murmur of hysterical despair, as they drew near some.bushes. "Oh, I am dying !" was what the girl said. 'Making their way into the scrub they found her m almost a state of coma, and they were only just m time to save her from death. She had heard the rescuers cooeeing on the beach, and, imagining them to be natives, perhaps with cannibalistic tendencies, had crept into the scrub out of sight. . In a few hours the girl had sufficiently recovered . to be carried to the ropes, and, after being carefully hauled up, she was put in-' to a buggy and taken to Sherbrooke, where, under Mrs Gibson's care, she was soon herself again. Pearce and Eva Carmicheal were "THE SOLE SURVIVORS of the. Loch Ard. She was. a cjer-gy-man's daughter, and all her family had perished m the wreck. Pearce was the son of Captain Pearce, who was lost m a vessel called the Gothenburg. His experience of the sea had not been a cheering one. Of the five captains he had served under fourhad died, and this was his second wreck, he having previously been nearly drov. Ned m the foundering of the ship Emily Rawlins. His manly conduct m swimming out to help the girl, after he had himself with diffir culty got to land, created him a hero m the public estimation when the first news of the disaster became known. He received a gold watct and chain from> the Governor, and was presented with 5 the FIRST GOLD MEDAL 1 of the Victorian Humane Society, ' and when he reached Sydney he received a present of a sum of money and a sextant. According to novelists and lovers of the romantic, this surviving couple should have pledged vndying troth to each other, but Love being ,the only passion m our common humanity that cannot be forced, —•the sublime passion responsible for many seeming and real irregularities —said otherwise.