Shipwrecked

Southland Times, Issue 22508, 16 February 1935, Page 18

Shipwrecked

—Prize.— Three men leaned over the side rails of the sailing ship “Firefly,” looking into the water below, which curled along the sides of the vessel in a shower of spray, leaving a trail of milky-coloured foam in her wake. The men were Jack Stroudon and his brother Pete, accompanied by their old sea-friend, Bill Morgan. The brothers were both about twenty years of age, while their friend was more like sixty years.

“Looks very much like a storm,” Bill suddenly commented, straightening up his back and peering towards the distant horizon. “Maybe so,” grunted the ill-humoured captain, who had the reputation of being very obstinate. “You had better have the sails taken down,” Bill announced, for he knew the weather like the palm of his hand, and his instinct told him now that a great storm was ahead of them. “Nobody will take in those sails, for this ship has weathered many a storm with her sails up, and will weather this one,” and with these words he strode away, filled with satisfaction, for he knew that his word was law on board ship. Old Bill looked after him with a smile on his lips, but it was not one of pleasure, for in his heart of hearts he had a feeling that the ship would not come through the storm safely. Then, with a rush the storm was upon them, lashing at them in all its fury, making old Bill’s blood run high with the splendour of this battle against the elements. The storm still continued after the sun sank, and all night long it lasted, increasing fury driving the ship before it at an almost incredible speed, threatening to swamp the vessel at any minute, but she held bravely on under her press of canvas, with the sails bellying out as stiff as iron before the wind. By morning the ship was half full of water, while the storm still raged on, and the ship shuddered and groaned under the pressure inflicted upon her. Soon orders were given to take to the small boats of which there were two, tied t.> the masts. The vessel would not stay afloat any longer than five minutes, and so the men worked with a will and were soon in the boats. “We daren’t risk ourselves in those boats for our extra weight would overload them, and that is too risky in these waters,” said Bill. “We’d better think of some other —.” A rending crash of timber stopped him short and sent him rolling across the deck, his companions sharing a similar fate. They picked themselves up, only to discover that the ship had run full tilt into a huge rock. They saw their shipmates already climbing up it, for they had reached it before them in the small boats which were now totally lost in the waves. Bill and his two companions managed to leave the boat and scramble up the rock just as the boat gave one last tremendous lurch and sank to join the fish. No food or drink —not even a boat was saved, but one good thing was that they were on the route taken by most vessels. Before nightfall all signs of the recent storm had disappeared, taking no lives, but it might in another way—by starvation! A jdyous shout woke the men next morning and, looking up they saw a man capering about on the highest pinnacle of rock and pointing towards the western horizon. Everybody looked and espied a large steamer. All the men started shouting and waving their shirts, and they all let out a whoop of joy when they saw that they had attracted the stranger’s attention and she was coming to save them. Later, as they all climbed aboard their rescuer- they kelled a ringing British cheer, which resounded across the waves. —l/6 to Cousin William Guise (14), c/o Mr N. A. Guise, Groper’s Bush, Riverton RD. —Prize.— What time it was, I do not know, when I awoke with a senese of impending disaster. The night light burnt dully, as I gazed around the small cabin. Even as I listened, a man’s shout rang out, and a jolting shiver ran over the whole boat. I could hear hurried footsteps approaching, then a loud knock on my door. The stewardess ran in, her grey curls askew. “We are wrecked!" she moaned. “Quick! All are to go on deck.” When she had left me, may numbed brain was repeating it over and over again, trying to understand, even as I tugged clothes on with strangely clumsy fingers. My legs seemed to belong to someone else, as I stumbled up to the deck.

On the deck, people were huddled in little knots. White faces were turning to the thick darkness. Sailors ran along with lighted flares. The deck lay at an uneven keel that seemed to become more pronounced every minute. They told me the ship had passed too close to a small island, and struck badly upon the reef. Now it drifted, but was filling rapidly. The first boat was lowered. By the flickering light it seemed very frail. And how oily and evil the water! It was filled, and pushed off and with a rattling of tackle the next boat was lowered. As I stepped into the reeling boat, I could hear the crash of breakers on the reef. A child beside me wailed wildly. Then, they rowed off, and our boat pitched and heaved, while against its frail sides came the smack of the sea’s lips. I turned to watch the doomed ship. As I looked, a row of lights vanished, then another. I could look no more. Our little craft battled to the neck of the reef. Then, it was lifted high and hurled forward, a great wave crashed over the boat, with a blow that left me half unconscious. I was aware of a swirling fury all around then, at last, the limp of the little boat in calm water. I felt arms lift me, and heard a heavy splashing. Then I was set down, and lay for how long I do not know. When my weary eyes opened I found myself staring at slits of light in a cane curtain. I seemed one weary ache. Then beside me I saw a velveteyed little brown girl, who held an earthen bowl to my lips. Then I seemed to sleep for days. When I pushed aside the cane screen over the doorway, hot sunshine leapt to dazzle my eyes. A crowd of my fellow travellers stood upon the beach. A steamer lay out beyond the lagoon, and a horde of boats were darting around above the reef where the sunken boat lay. My little brown maiden piloted me down to the beach, where we waited for the boats which were to carry us to the waiting steamer. We were sorry spectacles as we left the island. Clad' in motley garments, anxious eyed, but eager to reach our destinations at last. We rowed out to the steamer and climbed on board. Then, with the hearse cry of the boat, we steamed off. No longer could I see the wistful figure of my native maiden; soon the last tall palm vanished. Not so exciting as “Treasure Island,” perhaps, but my experience of being shipwrecked was one that I would not like to experience again. —l/6 to Cousin Chrissie Ross (16), Maia, Dunedin.

—Very Highly Commended—

In the early dusk of a January morning in the year 1899, a beautiful sailing vessel, The Albatross, tacked out of Auckland Harbour with a cargo of goods for barter for the natives. She was bound for Fiji with necklaces, axes, and rolls of bright cloth to exchange for fruit, vegetables, sago and sugar.

She reached Fiji without event, the weather being perfect, and after some very successful bargaining she sailed qjvay with the intention of trading round some of the other Pacific Islands.

In a very short time the island was out of sight. Towards evening the atmosphere became heavy and sultry. Great masses of ragged dark cloud with a dirty bronze colour shining through them rolled up. Soon the sky was overcast, and the ship, under closely reefed sails, was rolling heavily on the long oily swell. The wind began to blow in short sullen gusts, rattling the rigging and causing eerie creaks. Suddenly there was a roar. The sea was a living, hissing, seething mass of flying foam. Mountainous waves crashed on board, and soon the deck was a mass of dashing foaming water, broken spars, scraps of rigging and even lifeboats, battered in by the churning breakers. The air was filled with flying spray, the shrieking of the tempests and the crash of thunder and splintering of woodwork. Thus a terrifying night wore on. It was impossible to know the where-abouts of the ship as she bounded madly on.

Midnight came and in the very darkest hour the ship struck. She struck with a grinding shock which made her quiver from bow to stem. In almost an instant she broke to pieces, and with the stricken cries of doomed friends still ringing in their ears, those who were fortunate enough to cling to some piece of wreckage, lapsed into unconsciousness. Everything, including the lives of many brave men, was lost with the wreck of the magnificent ship, which, but a few short months before, had sailed proudly under wide spread canvas upon the fateful voyage. When the survivors once more became conscious, it was to find that they were on an island. Too weak to move or care for anything, they lay all day upon the sand, but even to their dulled senses the island seemed strange. No sunshine came to warm them, and no chorus of bird music greeted their ears. Towards evening they became stronger and were tormented by hunger. They noticed that a sinister silence brooded on the island, which was gloomy and crowned with a coronet of dark trees. Some sense of foreboding evil caused them to shiver and draw together. Strange sounds began to come from the bush. Gradually they grew until the men could hear a low monotonous chant accompanied by a dull, hollow booming; the beating of native drums. Out of the bush came a column of jet black natives. First came two, who by their strange dress were juju men, or witch doctors. Behind came a dozen natives, walking in pairs and beating drums with wicked looking clubs. As they walked down the beach to the same measured chant, some unseen power gripped the thirty sailors and prevented them from struggling as they were bound with ropes, made from the tough stems of ereepers. As if in a dream they heard the tomtoms begin to throb again as they were dragged over a rough stony pathway. On, on they stumbled, until, at last they reached a large, flat, plateau. At one end was a cluster of native huts, at the other, against the trees was a great stone idoh .

The men were flung into a large hut and left there. In a short time, however, the natives returned and dragged them outside. Darkness had long fallen but the clearing was lit by flaring torches which threw grotesque shadows on the ugly face of the massive idol.

Their senses were fully alert this time and with a shudder they realized the horrible fate before them. They were to be sacrified to this heathen god. They had reached the trees by this time. Breaking from their captors they darted away among them. They were pursued but reached the shore where they were rescued by a passing ship.

—3 marks to Cousin Isobel McKenzie (13), Dipton.

—Very Highly Commended— The large sailing ship, the Emerald, floated out of Plymouth Harbour with cargo bound for South America. Aboard were several passengers bound for different ports of that country. After several days’ sailing the ship ran into a terrific storm, which lashed the boat from side to side as if it were just a cork. One dark night, when the storm was at its worst, the ship ran aground on some large rocks. Only one man, Pat Burke, was washed on dry land alive.

It was well on in the day when he recovered sufficiently to get up and take a look round. To begin with he found a stick to help him up a nearby hill. On reaching the top he saw at once that he was on a island which stretched for several miles away. As Pat had nothing but the clothes he was wearing, he decided it was useless to go back, so he ventured on. After about two miles’ walk; he paused for a spell. He was now becoming hungry and, because of the heat, rather thirsty. However, he pushed on in quest of something appetising. While going down the side of a rather rocky hill he slipped, and slid into a stone which, to his utter surprise moved and left an opening to a cave. Pat recovered himself and entered and found several things in comers, but no food. At last he came to a narrow, low passage through which he had to crawl for several yards, after which the passage opened into a large, roomy cavern where a table was standing with food ready to be eaten. As he was very hungry, Pat took some food and crept back stealthily to the passage where he could see if anything happened. Just as he was finishing his last biscuit he heard voices. These sounded to be getting lounder and louder. Shortly after half a dozen rough looking men entered. One tall, dark, sharpfeatured man, who was apparently the leader, sat at the end of the table on a rough-made box for a chair, under which sat a dog rather fierce looking He appeared to be smelling something, and Pat quickly guessed he was the cause, so hastened to shift out of the cave before being caught. When he reached the outside he saw a cove where two ships were hidden, anchored to a post on shore. Pat untied the boat and sailed off, but he was not far off when the dog splashed into the water and seized the rope end in his powerful teeth, and began swimming back to land. All the men were now at the water’s edge, so Pat had to look for some way of escape, for he could not face them. He saw an axe on the side of the ship and quickly cut the rope. Soon he was again drifting away and one of the men fired and made a large hole in the ship. It soon filled and then it sank. Once more Pat was shipwrecked, this time further from land. He floated on the waves for a few minutes when a large plank floated past. He scrambled aboard and off he (

went. For almost three days he was without food or water to say nothing of the cramp that had come over him before he was picked up by an English ship, which returned with him to his home in Plymouth. His children just love to sit down and listen to their old father’s story of his double shipwreck. They wonder how he managed to live almost a week with only a little food, but as their father tells them, this is often the plight of shipwrecked sailors. —3 marks to Cousin Laurence Moir (15), Waimahaka. —Commended— I had been journeyin'* on a huge liner, bound for New York. In the early hours of the morning of the second day of our voyage the ship struck a large rock. The news spread quickly, and in a very short time all the life boats were occupied. There was one boat which had only one occupant, I being the occupant. After rowing a distance from the wreck I found myself within ten yards of a small, palmfringed island. In a few moments I was standing on a sandy beach. After exploring for some time I found the island to be uninhabited. By dusk I had gathered sufficient wood to light a fire. When the fire was blazing, I roasted some potatoes, which I had found stowed in a rock cavern. After one day on the island I had found out that it was not so pleasant after all to be shipwrecked. On the second day I decided to row out from the island, hoping to see a ship in sight. When I was a short distance from the island I sighted a ship. I rowed quickly and to my joy a sailor sighted me and before many minutes had elapsed I was on my way to New York. —1 mark to Cousin Olive Paton (13), Bluff road. —Commended — Slowly ’mid shouts of farewell, the steamer Taieri, wound its way slowly out of the harbour at Bluff. Residents of Invercargill and surrounding districts had gathered there to see the ship, as Sir Donald Metcalfe, the great explorer and his son, John, were the most distinguished passengers. That night, after a good many hours of travelling, it steamed into the harbour of Dunedin. After spending the night there, it made its way towards Lyttelton Harbour. This was its last port of call till it reached its destination, (but you will find later that it never ever reached that destination.)

After leaving the Lyttelton Harbour, the Taieri, headed for the United States of America. One night when it was two thousand eight hundred and eighty-six miles from Christchurch, John Metcalfe was awakened by two shrill blasts of the ship’s siren. Hopping out of bed, he hastened to his father’s bed, and wakened him by shouting. “Father, wake up! We are to go up on deck, as the siren called twice. Grab your lifebelt and hurry.” Sir Donald did as his son bade him, and together they hurried up on deck. When they arrived on deck the officials had made the people understand that they had struck a rock, and the ship was slowly sinking, but if they behaved properly there would be nothing to worry about, as there were plenty of life-boats being lowered. Sir Donald and his son were in the last boat and slowly they were lowered. As they touched the waves they thought they would be taken to safety, but instead they found themselves floundering in the sea, as the boat had too many in it Sir Donald was not a very good swimmer, but he snatched at a large, piece of wreckage and by working himself cautiously around the edge, he managed to get on top, and as the night was very dark he could not see where he was going. Slowly lulled by the noise of the waves, he fell asleep. About ten next morning he woke again, feeling very hungry and cold, and he could see nothing but birds. Very soon, the horizon grew dull and threatening, and he could see that a storm was brewing. Huddling into a small heap he blocked his ears to keep out the noise of the storm. By the time the storm abated it was nightfall and so Sir Donald fell It was three o’clock in the next afternoon that he awoke to see a dark object coming towards him. In a few minutes he could see it was a ship. Pulling his handkerchief from his pocket, he waved frantically to attract its attention, but he need not have done so as it had been searching for him for twentv-four hours. As he was lifted on deck, he heard a voice shouting, “Father, Father, you are safe,” and he fell fainting in his son’s arms. 1 mark to Cousin Lilian Todd (14), Toa P.O.

—Commended—“S.O.S.”, shouted Bill Smith, the captain of the shipwrecked boat, but no answer came back. “Ahoy! are you there?” still there was no answer, but the roaring of the waves. _ “Alas! We are shipwrecked, said Joe Hill, who was a young sailor. “Perhaps we may have to live on that small island over there," he said once more. “Yes,” replied Frank Green, a good friend of Joe’s. Joe sat thinking what he could do, racking his brains. But it could not be done. “Lower the boats” ordered the captain smartly. In no time they were lowered, and were rowing across to the island, which was full of fruit. —1 mark to Cousin Catherine MacGillivray (13), Menzies Ferry. —Commended — I was travelling on an enormous ocean liner from New Zealand to Australia. For the first half of our journey we experienced beautiful weather, but suddenly, one night, a terrible storm arose, causing our ship to hit a huge rock, which tore away the side of our ship. The life boats were immediately lowered and all the passengers were taken to a nearby island. We found, to our intense surprise, that many fruit and palm trees grew on the island, so we had a little food for that night, as we had not saved any food from the ship. Early next morning we decided to go exploring, and after walking around for many miles we came upon some friendly natives, who, after hearing of our experience, gave us food. We remained on this island for many months, while the men made a boat from the trees which grew on the island. At the end of seven months our ship was completed and we set sail for Australia, which was only a few miles away. Wo reached our destination in two days, after many experiences. After telling our friends of our adventures on the island we set sail again for New Zealand, hoping we would not be shipwrecked again. —1 mark to Cousin Irene E. Hall (15), Aparima R.D., Otautau.

—Commended. — It was a warm autumn afternoon and after heavy rain, the sun burst forth from among the clouds. At three o’clock the s.s. Waratah departed from the harbour and quickly made her course across the raging foamtossed sea. Ceaselessly Neptune’s white horses kept dashing up against the sides of the ship as she travelled on. When evening drew near, the wind sprang up; the sea became tempestuous and the sky darkened, loud peals of thunder could be heard rolling in the | distance, while momentarily a bright ■ flash of lightning followed. By ten o’clock the wind had in- | creased to a gale. Rain began to fall j heavily at midnight and the wind in-

creased in fury. Great waves were rolling in from the open ocean and the pitching of the vessel was fearful. The captain began to fear that they had taken the wrong course, but owing to the dense blackness he was unable to perceive if that was right. The ship was steadily proceeding on her course, when, suddenly, without the slightest warning she struck a gigantic rock and a hole was tom below the rail and water rushed into the cabin. The captain, seeing this, called on the crew to close the doors of the compartment as this might mean saving the vessel. It was a difficult task, but, by the magnificent behaviour of the men, and by their united efforts, the leakage was eventually stopped. Shortly afterwards the vessel lurched to starboard and sank with heavy inclination by the bows. One hundred and thirty valuable lives were lost with the sinking of the Waratah. —1 mark to Cousin Marjorie O’Donnell (16), Centre Bush.