Post by Administrator on Dec 9, 2013 13:30:11 GMT
THE S.S.TREVESSA:
`Twas in the Indian Ocean in nineteen twenty-three,
The Trevessa perished by the head in a raging sea,
Loaded in Port Pirie her cargo heavy zinc,
Bound in time for Antwerp until about to sink,
The heaving seas were flooding in, the vessel taking water,
In the hold, the concentrates like wet cement or mortar,
Pumps there could not handle it, as bilges could not drain,
Engineers tried everything but toiled and fought in vain.
Abandoning Trevessa in the early hours of morn,
Shocked by her quick foundering soon after in the storm,
Embarking in two lifeboats the crew of forty-four,
Commenced upon their voyages of epic ocean lore,
The wooden craft were clinker built, eight foot beam and strong,
A single mast with lugsail and twenty-six feet long,
The Mate in charge of one boat cast off to sail and row,
Westward to Mauritius - two thousand miles to go.
The Old Man took the other one to find Rodriguez Isle,
Mostly in good spirits in Merchant navy style,
They tried to sail together but after six rough days,
The Mate’s boat proved the slower so went their separate ways,
Keeping up the headway, they pulled at times with oars,
Ignoring painful sunburn and agonising sores,
They lived on basic rations, doled out with discipline,
Plus cigarettes with matches and baccy in a tin.
The seventeenth day in the Old Man`s boat saw two men pass away,
Nine succumbed in the other one by exposure cold and spray,
Though four of them delirious carried out self-slaughter,
By ignoring well known orders and drinking of salt water,
Captain Cecil Foster had braved the first World War,
Knew how to stock the lifeboats as he’d been sunk before,
Stowing extra water and tins of milk condensed,
Along with hard ship’s biscuits carefully dispensed.
Experience and foresight served them very well,
He’d saved the lives of many with now a tale to tell,
Of surviving heavy seas, trying to steer a course,
Through extremes of weather and latitudes of Horse,
Days then weeks were counted, declining all the while,
`Till navigating coral reefs off Rodriguez Isle,
Mauritius bound, the Mate’s crew, later made landfall,
Carried then ashore - for they could not walk at all.
The zinc concentrates were loaded in the form of a kind of slime which water could not percolate. The sounding rod could not detect water in the holds nor could the bilge pumps reach it. Engineers started to cut off the heads of the rivets in the collision bulkhead to allow the water to escape into the forepeak where the pumps could reach it. However, the bulkhead began to bulge and crack and they were forced to give up the attempt
LINK
`Twas in the Indian Ocean in nineteen twenty-three,
The Trevessa perished by the head in a raging sea,
Loaded in Port Pirie her cargo heavy zinc,
Bound in time for Antwerp until about to sink,
The heaving seas were flooding in, the vessel taking water,
In the hold, the concentrates like wet cement or mortar,
Pumps there could not handle it, as bilges could not drain,
Engineers tried everything but toiled and fought in vain.
Abandoning Trevessa in the early hours of morn,
Shocked by her quick foundering soon after in the storm,
Embarking in two lifeboats the crew of forty-four,
Commenced upon their voyages of epic ocean lore,
The wooden craft were clinker built, eight foot beam and strong,
A single mast with lugsail and twenty-six feet long,
The Mate in charge of one boat cast off to sail and row,
Westward to Mauritius - two thousand miles to go.
The Old Man took the other one to find Rodriguez Isle,
Mostly in good spirits in Merchant navy style,
They tried to sail together but after six rough days,
The Mate’s boat proved the slower so went their separate ways,
Keeping up the headway, they pulled at times with oars,
Ignoring painful sunburn and agonising sores,
They lived on basic rations, doled out with discipline,
Plus cigarettes with matches and baccy in a tin.
The seventeenth day in the Old Man`s boat saw two men pass away,
Nine succumbed in the other one by exposure cold and spray,
Though four of them delirious carried out self-slaughter,
By ignoring well known orders and drinking of salt water,
Captain Cecil Foster had braved the first World War,
Knew how to stock the lifeboats as he’d been sunk before,
Stowing extra water and tins of milk condensed,
Along with hard ship’s biscuits carefully dispensed.
Experience and foresight served them very well,
He’d saved the lives of many with now a tale to tell,
Of surviving heavy seas, trying to steer a course,
Through extremes of weather and latitudes of Horse,
Days then weeks were counted, declining all the while,
`Till navigating coral reefs off Rodriguez Isle,
Mauritius bound, the Mate’s crew, later made landfall,
Carried then ashore - for they could not walk at all.
The zinc concentrates were loaded in the form of a kind of slime which water could not percolate. The sounding rod could not detect water in the holds nor could the bilge pumps reach it. Engineers started to cut off the heads of the rivets in the collision bulkhead to allow the water to escape into the forepeak where the pumps could reach it. However, the bulkhead began to bulge and crack and they were forced to give up the attempt
LINK