SYDNEY DISASTER

Otago Daily Times, Issue 23436, 26 February 1938, Page 4

SYDNEY DISASTER

. CAPSIZE OF LAUNCH LOSS OF NINETEEN LIVES HEROIC RESCUE WORK AMERICAN SAILORS’ BRAVERY (From Our Own Correspondent) SYDNEY, Feb. 18. All news of the week has been overshadowed by the grim curtain which fell at the end of the first intensive period of the 150th Anniversary celebrations—the tragedy of the launch Rodney, which capsized and sank in the harbour, with a death-roll of 19, while her 130 passengers were farewelling the United States cruiser Louisville on her departure for Melbourne. Most of the passengers and most of the victims were girls and women who had become friends of officers and sailors of the Louisville. They had boarded the launch, a new craft licensed to carry 211, at Woolloomooloo, where the Louisville had been berthed, and where gay scenes had been witnessed as the cruiser had drawn out into the stream.

There is not the slightest doubt that the capsize was caused by a rush of people on the upper deck to one side as the launch made an encircling movement round the stern of the cruiser and was caught in the wash. Officers and men on the cruiser, as well as observers in numerous other craft on the harbour, had commented on the alarming list of the launch,, a 60-foot 30-ton craft, caused by passengers congregating on one side to get the best view of the departing cruiser.

The owner, Mr Charles Rosman. who was in charge of the Rodney, said he had “ about 80 on board —60 on the top deck and about 20 on the forward lower deck.” A photograph taken from the Louisville a few seconds before the Rodney turned turtle, and published in a Sydney newspaper, shows more than 100 passengers on the upper deck. A record of victims and rescued persons shows that about 130 passengers were on the vessel. Captain R. W. Mathewson, of the Louisville said that the list of the Rodney as she circled the cruiser some time before the accident occurred so alarmed him that he ordered the speed of his vessel to be reduced almost to a crawl so that there would be no wash to endanger the craft. “She rounded our stern,” he said, “ and as the people moved together from one side of the launch to the other she heeled over at an alarming angle. The next moment she turned completely over in a few seconds, and the water was full of people, a few clinging to the upturned hull, which was rapidly sinking-” , , ■ , Lieutenant G. L. Menocal, of the Louisville, said: "As I was standing on the deck over the chart house I had an unobstructed view of the accident. I should say the Rodney capsized at from 150 to 200 yards aft of our port beam. There were few people on the lower deck, and the upper deck was crowded, everybody being on the starboard side. I remember hearing one of the enlisted men near me saying, ‘lt will be just too bad if he tries to turn.’ I agreed with him, and replied that the boat was already dangerously listed. I had no sooner finished speaking when I noticed that the boat was steering to port and gradually listing over more and more. It was evident that it was going to turn right oyer, so I yelled down to the navigation bridge, ‘Watch that boat. She is going to turn over! ’ At the same time the passengers began screaming loudly, and the boat slowly capsized. As I ran down to man the starboard motor whaleboat I heard orders being given from the bridge to stop the engines, release the automatic lifebuoys, throw over lifejackets, and lower the boats.” . These were the clearest, simplest, and most graphic accounts of the grim happening given by the watchers, and they are borne out by that of James Wheatley, an Australian naval seaman, who was aboard the Rodney. We moved towards Bradley’s Head off the port stern of the cruiser,” said Wheatley. “All the girls shouted to the driver to go to the starboard, so that they could see the sailors on the Louisville better. The launch had barely begun to turn when the crowd on board moved to the starboard together. The launch tilted, and in a moment had completely turned turtle with her screw clear and racing. Despite the list which the Rodney had before the capsize, few_ of those who were rescued had any inkling of impending disaster until they suddenly found themselves being hurled into the water. Perhaps the most vivid account by a survivor was that of John Edward Garner, 20, who was on a seat on the upper deck when the disaster occurred. “The first that I knew of it, he said, “was that one of the seats on whicn we were sitting collapsed, and 1 and others shot forward against the people who were standing in front of us watching the Louisville steaming dqwn the harbour. The Rodney canted right over on its side, and into the water we all went in a struggling, screaming Inass. The women became hysterical, and our first thought was for them. Everyone who could do so grabbed a lifebelt and looked round to see whom he could help. I grabbed a lifebelt, and a girl near me in the water said, ‘Can I share that with you? and caught hold of it too.” The black background _of tragedy was shot through with brilliant lights of rescue work, in which the complement of the Louisville and members of the Police Band were conspicuous. At the time at least 20 launches and the Manly ferry steamer, Barrenjoey, were in the vicinity, but few realised what had happened until piercing screams from women rent the air. The police launch, with the Police Band on board, was then on the other side of the warship, but four blasts the urgent s)lice call) from the Manly ferry, the captain of which had .seen the launch capsize, brought it quipkly to the scene. The Cambria, in the charge of Sergeant Ravelli and with Constables Benson. Steele, and Walsh

comprising the crew, went full speed to the other side of the warship, and the police were confronted with a scene without parallel, they believe in Sydney Harbour since the ferry steamer Greycliffe was sinking after being cut in two by the liner Tahiti in 1927.

The Rodney had turned on its side, and nearly 150 men, women, and children were struggling in the water, which at the spot is 70 feet deep. The 36 bandsmen flung their instruments down, and 15 of them, throwing off their uniforms, plunged to the rescue. The women were screaming “ Save me! ” and men and children were struggling in a confused mass, clutching at each other in their frantic attempts'to remain afloat. Fully 50 sailors of the Louisville were crowded about the stern of the warship, and immediately the Rodney turned over six of them, without even waiting to take off their caps, plunged overboard and swam towards the people struggling in the water. The accident, in fact, caused such excitement on board the Louisville that at least 100 more of the ratings would have jumped overboard to the rescue had not the order been given to all the crew to take up action stations. The Louisville was stopped immediately, two motor boats and four whalers were lowered over the side, and 150 lifebuoys, with Verey lights and other rescue gear, were thrown overboard. The gangway was also lowered, and the officers gave the order that as many as possible should be brought on board, whether dead or alive. The rescue work was carried out with remarkable coolness by the police, the crews of the Manly ferry boat and private launches, and United States naval ratings, despite the fact that the harbour at the scene was littered with debris broken from the Rodney as it turned over. As women and girls were screaming and throwing their arms wildly in the air, they were caught by the rescuers, some by the hair, others by their qjothing. Some of the girls had their clothes torn to ribbons in the excitement.

One woman, Mrs Kayser, who had boarded the launch with her husband and her seven-years-old son, was caught by the hair by a police bandsman as she was sinking. As she was lifted on board the police launch she screamed, “My son; save him! ” Her husband was pulled out of the water by others, but it was not known until the last rescue boat had come ashore that their son had not been saved. Meanwhile the father paced up and down the wharf at Man-o-War steps sobbing and calling, “ Where is my son? ” This was only one of many poignant scenes witnessed at Man-o-War Steps when the rescued arrived. A feature of the rescue work was the remarkable organisation shown by the Central District Ambulance. Word was received that the launch had capsized, and a message was sent to all cars, some of which were scattered in remote suburbs attending to cases. Twelve of them were ordered to go at full speed to Man-o-War Steps. The ambulance staff, comprising 36 officers, had a full equipment of oxygen respirators, and as the unconscious men and women -were lifted ashore they were treated before being transported to hospital. Each patient was muffled in blankets, principally loaned by the Louisville and by private launches. As the victims were being carried towards the waiting shed, some of the girls screamed piteously, many calling for relatives whom they had not seen since the Rodney sank. Several were in such a state of hysteria that they had to be forcibly restrained, and police accompanied them to the hospital in the ambulance cars. For a time the wharf ahd the landing stage resembled a clearing station, being littered with stretchers, on which lay men and women in various stages of consciousness.

Five bodies were recovered before darkness put a, stop to rescue work on Sunday. The wreck was located in 70 feet of water soon after mid-day on Monday, and divers took four more bodies from it. On Tuesday the wreck was raised to the surface and three more bodies were found. The bodies of seven other known victims are still missing. The 19 victims comprised one middleaged man (whose 16-years-old daughter was also drowned and whose wife was saved), eight women aged between 21 and 40, seven girls between 15 and 21, two younger girls, and a boy of seven. George Jack, one of the two divers who worked for ten hours on Monday amid thick black mud on the harbour bottom, said: “When we descended about 4 a.m. we discovered that our drags were attached to the boiler of the Kurrajong, which sank in the harbour 25 years ago, and not to the sunken Rodney, as had .-been believed on Sunday night. After dragging in various parts of the harbour and descending in likely spots, we eventually located the launch about 150 yards off Bradley’s Hqad at 1 p.m. We had to smash in the stern of the boat with hammers and tomahawks to enter the cabin. The launch had a list to starboard, and its nose was buried several feet in thick black mud. “When we broke through the stern we met a tangle of seats and lifebelts. Everything in the cabin was floating up as high as it could. We had to smash up the seats to manoeuvre them through the hole we had made. Then we sent them to the surface by a line. The most difficult task was fixing steel ropes round the bow and stern of the vessel, and then tying them firmly to bollards on the deck. It took hours to work the steel lines through the soft sea bed under the launch.

“ I expected to encounter a few sharks while walking about the sea bottom. I have done so before. They could have been nosing around without my know it. The visibility was very bad.” A “ship of sorrow,” the Louisville berthed at Melbourne on Tuesday. Practically every passenger in the Rodney who was drowned was a personal friend of some member of the Louisville’s crew. Four of the crew who had been friendly with girls who were drowned were given special leave to attend the funerals, and flew to Sydney. None of them had sufficient money for the fare, but when the leave was granted the ship’s company, within a few minutes, subscribed sufficient to cover all expenses. As a further tribute the senior aviator of the Louisville, Lieutenant George Huff, who was the first man to jump overboard from the warship when the Rodney overturned, flew_ over Melbourne in one of the cruiser’s planes and dropped a wreath of roses on Port Phillip Bay. “The tragedy has left an indelible mark on every member of the crew,” an officer said. “We were all personal friends of those aboard the launch, and it is impossible for us to express our regret. Ever since the disaster there has been little laughing and joking. The Louisville has been a ship of sorrow.”

The Louisville is known as the "Mercy Ship” of the American fleet, having previously figured in several rescues. Included in these was the saving of 575 passengers when the liner Harvard was 'Wrecked off the Californian coast six years ago. For this rescue a plaque was presented to the vessel. The Louisville also, rescued an aviator who was forced down off Honda Point, California, four years ago. In another rescue eight men were taken off a British merchant ship which was on fire near Honolulu A plaque will probably be presented to the Louisville ,to mark the crew’s fine work in the Rodney disaster.