The Waka Maori. WELLINGTON, TUESDAY, JUNE 30, 1874. WRECK OF THE SHIP BRITISH ADMIRAL.

Waka Maori, Volume 10, Issue 13, 30 June 1874, Page 158

The Waka Maori. WELLINGTON, TUESDAY, JUNE 30, 1874. WRECK OF THE SHIP BRITISH ADMIRAL.

The following account of the loss of the ship "British Admiral" on King's Island, on the morning of the 23rd of May last, is abridged from particulars of the wreck compiled from the Melbourne newspapers, and published in the New Zealand, Times of the 13th of June instant. King's Island is situated in the Strait between the Island of Tasmania and Australia, and is distant from "Wellington about 2,000 miles west:— " The story of the wreck (says the Argus) is a most heart-rending one, for no less than 79 lives have been lost, a great proportion of those who perished being

women. Out of 49 passengers and a crew of 39, only nine have survived. The first news that reached town was a telegram from Queenscliffe to the following effect : —' Ketch Kangaroo, just arrived from King's Island, reports the total loss of the ship British Admiral on Saturday, 23rd inst. The vessel struck on the west side, and sank in a quarter of an hour, not a vestige of her remaining. Four of the crew, four passengers, and the third mate managed to escape by getting up the foremast, and subsequently drifting ashore on the wreckage. She had 49 passengers and about 39 of a crew, all of whom, excepting those above mentioned, are drowned. 5 A short time afterwards, the Hon. the Chief Secretary received a similar telegram. As soon as Mr. Francis received this telegram, he issued orders that H.M.C.S. Victoria should be made ready to proceed to sea, if necessary ; but the arrival of the ketch Kangaroo in the Bay', and the story of the survivors from the wreck, soon showed that the journey of the Victoria to the scene of disaster would be a useless one. " For some days before the wreck the weather was too thick to take a meridian observation, and it may therefore be surmised that Captain Taylor was unable to get the exact latitude of the vessel, and, being somewhat to the southward of his reckoning, brought his ship in too close proximity to King's Island. There is no doubt, however, that he thought he had plenty of seaway in front of him, as on Friday, May 22nd, when the first watch was called, from 8 p.m. to midnight, the ship was running under a considerable spread of canvas at the rate of six knots an hour, the wind being on the starboard quarter, and the course somewhat to the northward of east. "When the watch was called at midnight the chief officer took charge of the deck, and an able seaman went on the forecastle as a look-out, and a man was also sent up occasionally to the topsail yard to look out for the land. Nothing was seen up to 2 a.m., when Wm. Smith went to the wheel. About half an hour afterwards the chief officer, who was looking over the lee side, saw the loom of the land ahead. He at once called all hands, ordered the watch to ' haul out the spanker,' and put the helm down to bring her round. The ship came quickly round before the spanker was set, and the mainsail and mizzentopsail, together with the jib and maintopmast staysail, were at once put on her in order to claw her off the land. She had not been standing on her new course five minutes when the look-out man (Thos. Crowan) sang out, ' Breakers ahead!' The captain was by this time on deck, but before he could give any orders the ship struck heavily, and for a few minutes it was expected that the masts would go by the board. Up to this time the passengers had been totally unacquainted with any possibility of danger, but the severe shock of the ship striking brought them rushing on deck, and a most heart-rending scene occurred. There were several women on board, together with many young girls, and the screams and prayers for rescue from these were appalling. The women and children had congregated on the poop, and were clinging to the mizzen rigging within a few minutes of the ship striking. The captain and mate at once gave orders to ' Clear away the boats.' Mr. Baker (the chief officer) at the same time ran towards the cabin for the purpose of getting an axe in order to cut away the masts. The third mate (Mr. McEwan), who had been confined to his cabin for a fortnight with fever,

hearing the shock, rushed on deck, and, seeing the land close to, seized some clothing and took his station on the quarter-deck. The carpenter had sounded the pumps, and was reporting to the captain at the time the men were clearing away the boats. There was no hurry or confusion, but, according to orders, the starboard watch went to the forward boats, the port watch clearing away the after boats. The forward boats were secured on the top of the house on deck, and the first attempt was made to cast loose the gig. The first and third mates, together with several seamen, cut the lashings loose and tried to launch the boat; but as the ship rolled heavily at the time, the gig fell between the bulwarks and the house on deck, and was smashed. At the Bame moment a heavy sea swept across the 'midships of the vessel, and the chief officer, together with several seamen, were drowned. The third officer, seeing the sea coming, made a run for the forerigging, and, with a couple of seamen who followed his example, managed to secure their escape. The next sea that came on board swept away the mizzenmast, and with it the crowd of passengers who had taken to the poop and were clinging to the mizzen rigging. Heavy seas continued to sweep across the ill-fated vessel, and a few minutes afterwards the mainmast went over the side. The effect of the heavy sea now began to tell, as the decks showed signs of bursting, and soon those individuals who were clinging on the fore-rigging found themselves washed away by a heavy sea that nearly swamped them. They had scarcely relieved themselves from this sea when the ship slipped off the rock and went into deep water. The third mate and some others managed to secure some timber which had floated out of the hold, and made towards the shore. This was a matter of difficulty, but, trusting to the tide and current, they managed, after considerable bruising and knocking about among the rocks, to secure a footing on dry land. As they found they had timber, and that some provisions and cargo had been floated ashore, they managed to provide some accommodation for themselves. A cask of spirits was washed ashore, and this was found most useful. The rescued crew having rested on Sunday, on the next morning made a start down the coast in order to ascertain whether there was any one living on the island. On their way they saw several dead bodies; but upon reaching Currie Harbour they found a hunter named McPherson stopping there, who gave them every assistance. They also found with him one of their companions named Cunningham, who had managed to escape from the wreck. He and the second mate and others had left the ship in a boat shortly after she struck, and, in attempting to land, the boat was capsized and all drowned excepting Cunningham and another man named Jones, both of whom were drifted on shore on the bottom of the boat, where they were soon afterwards picked up by the hunter McPherson, who gave them every assistance in the way of food and dry clothing. The whole of the rescued men came together next day, and as the ketch Kangaroo was seen at anchor under New Tear's Island, one of the hunters pulled a boat across to her, and she at once made for King's Island, and, taking the shipwrecked men on board, made a start for Melbourne." The Telegraph says : —" The British Admiral was an iron ship of 1,733 tons register, and was built last year at Liverpool. This was her first voyage, but she had made a start previously, and met with a mishap, which one or two of her crew looked upon as a'

bad omen. The mishap in question was the loss of her masts in the Bay of Biscay during a very heavy gale of wind, and the vessel had to return to port and refit. (The Bay of Biscay is a large bay near England, bounded on the East by the coast of France, and on the South by the coast of Spain.) As soon as she was got ready for sea again, she took her departure from Liverpool on the 23rd February last. When the wreck occurred, there was one of the passengers—who was subsequently washed overboard and drowned —who appears to have been particularly cool and collected on the occasion; for one of the surviving crew heard him ask the captain, on the poop, while the seas were breaking heavily over the vessel, and every moment carrying with them to a watery grave some one or other of the human freight who were holding on tenaciously to whatever they could grasp,' How has this come to pass, captain ? ' and Captain Taylor replied, ' The chronometers must have been out.

" The sufferings of the survivors were very great. The weather was bitterly cold on the morning of the wreck, and during the hour and a half that they were holding on to the rigging before the ship went down, besides the piercing blasts of the gale, which nearly blew them from their hold, heavy showers of hail fell at intervals, causing them considerable pain. Then they were, they reckon, at least two hours in the water after the vessel sunk before they reached the shore in an exhausted condition, by which time it was broad daylight. It was not until Sunday morning that they were sufficiently recovered to be able to look to their comfort, and they then made a .tent out of some bolts of calico which had been washed ashore from the wreck, which by this time had been considerably broken up, and gathered some biscuit soaked in salt water, upon which they had to subsist until the following day. Their strength having by this time returned to them, to a certain extent, they wandered down the beach in search of assistance, and fortunately met a party of hunters, who brought to the nearly starving sufferers their stock of provisions, and shared it with them. " On the Thursday, the survivors, accompanied by two of the hunters, proceeded along the coast to bury any of their previous comrades which they might find. Most of the bodies were frightfully mutilated, having been pecked almost to pieces by the seabirds. In every case the eyes had been pecked out, and the head was almost completely severed from one of the bodies. "The cargo consisted of spirits, tobacco, timber, and general merchandise, and there was also on board a large quantity of railway iron and machinery. A number of cases of rum, brandy, beer, provisions and general merchandise were washed ashore, but, by the action of the surf, were rapidly covered with sand. The survivors were unable to recover any of their effects, and they landed in Melbourne without a second suit of clothes, and penniless." Prom the year 1830 up to the present time, there have been seventeen wrecks on King's Island, exclusive of the loss of the British Admiral, and a total loss of lives numbering 734.