TREVESSA HEROES.

Otago Daily Times, Issue 19000, 24 October 1923, Page 8

TREVESSA HEROES.

WELCOME AT GRAVESEND. SUFFERINGS IN BOATS. A SEAMAN'S STORY. The survivors of the ill-fated Trevessa, sunk in the Indian Ocean on June 4, arrived at Gravesend on the Union Castle liner Ghoorka a few weeks ago. They received a welcome home, which shewed how much the story of their heroism and stoical endurance of almost unparalleled hardships during their long voyage in the open boats had appealed to the hearts of a maritime people. The siren of every boat blared forth its welcome, and crowds of people awaited them on shore, and formed a triumphal escort, (o the hotel, where they were entertained to lunch, while people stood in a compact mass outside the building cheering them to the echo. Three fussy little tugs brought the stately Ghoorka, the Union Castle boat on which were the gallant little band, to her anchoring place in mid-stream- Toward her sped the Peter Wright, the motor launch belonging to the Seafarers’ Joint Council, gaily decorated with bunting and having on board some of the relatives of the Trevessa’s crew. Suddenly on the clear morning air burst the first shrill siren—four sharp, staccato notes, and then a long wail, the seaman’s mechanical parody of “Hip-hip-hip-hooray.” Then for the next five minutes there was a pandemonium of sound. Every siren took up the call, and the echoes reverberated from bank to bank. Those on the Peter Wright could just discern a little group of men standing amidships the liner as she came to anchor. The eager eyes of the relatives were keener; they could even at a distance pick out the familiar faces of those dear to them, and handkerchiefs fluttered in the breeze. “There’s your husband, Mrs Robson.” cried one little woman excitedly. ‘‘And there’s my boy!” came a mother's voice, tense with emotion. / They circled round the great liner, and the Trevessa crew rushed to the side of the ship to exchange greetings with the folk from home. CAPTAIN FOSTER’S MODESTY. Captain Foster, modest and unassuming as ever, kept in _ the background. There was none of his kith and kin to meet him, and his thoughts were probably far away in the little home at Barry, where his invalid wife was awaiting him. As soon as the preliminary official inquiries were over the orew descended into the Peter Wright —all but the captain, who slipped away in a tender from the other side of the ship. As the launch started for Tilbury there rose from the Ghoorka a mighty cheer, and the sirens once more blared out their “Hip-hip-hip-hooray ■” To talk to the members of the crew was to realise to the full the tremendous ordeal through which they have passed. Some of the straits to which they were reduced are too terrible to be printed. As one man put it graphically: “As soon as a man really lost heart he crumpled up like a piece of paper.” The sufferings from thirst borne by the men in the second boat were terrible. Burke, one of the seamen, said that he, in common with others, had hallucinations. His took this form ; In a half-dozing state he would imagine that he had in his hand a glass of limejuice. Just as he raised it to his lins he would “come to”—to realise that it was all a dream. CRAVING FOR A DRINK.

When at last they reached shore their one cry was for drink. In mistaken kindness they were given everything they could wish for—limejuioe, champagne, cognac, wines of all sorts.

“It is no exaggeration,” said Burke, “to say that we could see ourselves visibly swelling. We paid in pain and suffering the price of the pleasure of drinking. “When we landed we were like gaunt scarecrows, all with beards, in rags, and with feet so swollen that we could hardly walk. I ordinarily wear size eight m boots; even after this length of time I require size ten—and I cannot fasten the boots properly. “You can see, too, the marks of the salt water on my arms —marks which will remain with me for ever. We were sitting with our feet in warm salt water all the time. The boat was so crowded that we could only sit upright. There was no chance to sleep in any comfort. “When we laid the sick men at the bottom of the boat the others had to rest their feet on them. “Only about two had any head-covering at all—and you. can guess what it was like with the broiling sun pouring down and nothing to drink. DRANK SEA WATER. “The native seamen drank large quantities of sea water. We tried again and again to stop them, but in the night they would be at it again—and there was no hope for them. “For the first 16 days we sang and kept cheery. When a big wave came over us we struck up ‘Pack Up Your Troubles, and all the time going through my head were these lines from the “Ancient Mariner’: ‘Water, water everywhere, and not a drop to drink.’

“Did we quarrel in the boat? No, but after a day or two, as you can well imagine, we all became more or less irritable. But everybody was splendid. "Not a man broke down. Somehow, in the bottom of our hearts, we buoyed ourselves up with the belief that we must be rescued. “Not a single vessel did we see all the time we were afloat. After the condensed milk gave out it was sheer will power kept us going.” THE PENINSULA FERRY SERVICE. TO THE EDITOB. . Sir, — I was very pleased to see the warning by “Week-ender” in your issue of the 19th inst with reference to the thoughtless crowding by passengers of the much-crowded ferry boats to the gangway side when the boats are nearing the wharf. I have myself on several occasions observed this occurrence, the command from the captain being simply ignored. Something should be dope to avert this threatening danger. Otherwise I am afraid that some day a terrible calamity will terminate a delightful day’i pleasure.—l am etc., October 21. Observer.