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Post by KG on May 8, 2012 21:38:15 GMT
"A TERRIBLE ORDEAL."
STORY OF A TREVESSA SURVIVOR.
WONDERFUL SEA ADVENTURE
CHIEF ENGINEER NOW AT WELLINGTON.
Among countless stories of British heroism on land or sea, that of the crew of the lost steamer Trevessa will stand always in the annals of successful human endeavour against almost hopeless odd's. There is at present in Wellington one of the survivors of the Trevessa, Mr. Norman V. Robson, who was chief engineer of that vessel, and who is at present filling a similar position on the steamer Tremere, discharging New York cargo. To a Dominion reporter, Mr. Robson told of his- personal experience of this never-to-be-forgotten 23 days' voyage in an open boat, after the Trevessa foundered in mid-ocean.
Mr. Robson, whose home was at Newcastle-on-Tyne had been six months on the 'Trevessa” when she loaded 7000 tons of zinc concentrates at Port Pirie for Antwerp. The vessel called at Fremantle for bunker coal, and sailed on May 23 last year for Antwerp and Durban.
We started off in a howling westerly gale and high head-sea. For eight days the Trevessa pitched and strained heavily until we were compelled to heave-to! Water was reported in No. 1 hold, ten minutes after midnight of June 3. We could hear the water rushing about, but when the tanks and wells were sounded) /everything was reported dry. We could not raise the hatches as heavy seas were sweeping the decks. It was soon apparent that the water had entered the ship high up on her side, and as the water would not permeate the zinc concentrates it could not get to the suctions in the bottom of the ship. The wireless operator sent out the "5.0.5." and he got replies from four or five unknown ships which acknowledged receiving the latitude and longitude of the Trevessa.
The ship began to settle by the head, so the lifeboats were ordered to be got ready at 1 a.m. At 2.15 a.m. the boats were lowered as the Trevessa's fore-deck was 6 or 7 feet under water, and she was commencing to stand on her head. The engines were stopped at 2.10 a.m. but the electric lighting dynamo was left running.
The two life-boats on the starboard side were launched after much risk. I was in Captain Foster's boat with 10 others, and there were 24 all told in the chief officer's boat. The officers, engineers, greasers, and sailors were Britishers, the firemen were Arabs, Indian coolies and Portuguese West African negroes eleven coloured men all, told.
Every one, to a man, was quite cool considering the circumstances. "A heavy gale raged, and mountainous seas were running when we stood off the ship at a distance of half a mile. We were nearly swamped several times, and bailing was continuous. The ship soon went down, head foremost, like a giant whale slowly 'sounding,' her .stern standing up high in the air as she went beneath the waves. "We remained hove-to till 5 p.m. on that day, hoping to be picked up by any vessel that might have received our 'S.O.S.' call.
The gale, which had continued with terific force all day, now showed signs of moderating. Although no rain had fallen we had been drenched by the seas. All we had to put across us in our boat was a canvas boat cover. Each life-boat had a mast and big sail, and any amount of oars. Captain Foster then decided to set sail for the French island of Rodriquez, in the Mauritius group. This island was 2100 miles away in a straight line. The skipper calculated on the time likely to be occupied in this almost hopeless voyage, so he drew up the scale of rationing. 'We were each alloted a top of a round (50) cigarette tin of condensed milk twice a day, half a ship's biscuit twice a day, and a third of a ‘50' cigarette tin of water once a day. There was only sufficient condensed milk to last us four days, even at that small allowance. Short as we were of rations we had an abundance of cigarettes, tobacco and matches, and I assure you these were very welcome, and helped us along quite a lot.
The tiny drink of water was served out at 2 p.m. each day—after the heat of the mid day, when it was most beneficial. Of course, we had no blankets or spare clothes. All we had was what we stood in.
'Owing to strong head winds we had to tack day after day, and our boat, was leaking through a split in one of the planks caused when launching. Everyone ached through having to bail continually for the first! two days. Eventually we stopped thel leak by caulking the crack with an old sweat rag. The seas, however continued to come aboard, and once or twice we were half swamped.
The log was kept by me, and it recorded our difficulties. The watches were four hours on and eight hours off. There was no room to lie down to sleep: we had space just enough to sit up, and that is how we slept during twenty three days.
Both boats talked for an hour each day and kept close together for five days. Then Captain Foster decided that it would be better if we separated; firstly, owing to the difficulty of keeping in sight of each other; and secondly by separating it increased the chances of either being picked up by a vessel and reaching land and sending help to the other. Each boat's crew cheered the other heartily on parting.
There was only about *2ft. 6in freeboard to our boat, but she sailed well on the wind. Sometimes the gales drove us off our course and we simply had to run before the sea. Other times we used a sea anchor made of four oars lashed together.
The seas were so severe that two of the oars in the sea anchor were smashed. We also had one spell of four days' calm. The sun was then teriffic and at night time we were almost frozen with cold. We huddled together to keep ourselves as warm was possible. During the calm we rowed easily off and on for four days in half hour turns. The men had no strength, but. Captain Foster told them to take it easy. The idea was more to keep the men occupied and to get their thought', off our predicament.
The skipper forbade anv of us to go over the side for fear of losing anyone through exhaustion. He was determined to get us all safely lo land. None of us abandoned hope, but the mental strain was severe apart from our physical misery as the days wore on. Our principal anxiety was for those ashore who were worrying for us. Once or twice a ten-foot shark cruised along with us for a while, but we saw no other sea life, if you can except some pilot birds that hovered, over the boat for come time, We all grew long beards and we managed to joke over the uncouth appearance.
Eating a dry ship's biscuit is quite I a feat at any time. It was a tasteless dry powder in my mouth which was parched with thirst, and I was unable to swallow the biscuit. Some of us would go a week without our biscuit ration as it was too dry to swallow. Water was too precious for soaking a piece of biscuit.
With plenty of water we would have been a hundred times better off. The canvas boat cover got saturated with salt water, so it was of no use for catching rain. If the captain sighted a black cloud he would steer for it, and when rain fell we managed to obtain extra drinking water. We cut biscuit tins into squares of about 16 inches by 10 inches, and beat them into curves like channels. We held these against our chests and when the rain fell on these tin squares it ran down into the '50' cigarette tins held at the lower edge. Sometimes we managed to get a full tin of water, other times less than half an inch. This chasing after rain clouds lengthened our voyage, but was the means of saving our lives'. Another way of assuaging thirst was to take turns in stripping off our clothes during the heat of the day, and others poured buckets of water over us.
Yet another method was to lash a cigarette tin on the end of a stick, and while one man leaned over the side of the boat another scooped sea-water up and poured it over the nape of his neck. This was exceedingly soothing and stimulating. "On the sixteenth day out a Lascar fireman, Jacob Ali, began to sing; weird songs at night time. His constitution could not withstand the exposure and starvation. Someone was detailed to sit beside the poor chap and watch him. He was delirious, but continued to take his water and biscuit. Next 'day he just, slowly collapsed and passed quietly away. No one seemed depressed. We took it as inevitable.
After four hours the body was lowered overboard, and it was left behind. That day one of the Arabs took sick. He said he felt very ill and asked for water, but none could be spared. As the poor chap later on really showed signs of collapse, Captain Poster gave him a drink. He also passed away quietly on the following morning. I must say the coloured men were heroic to the end. They were splendid. We were beginning to fear we had missed the island, which meant another week to Madagascar. A feeling of dismay began to spread among the men.
We had no trailing log to check the distance traversed. We had no chronometer, or Book of tables. The captain had his sextant and managed to check our position to some extent, but it was easily possible under the circumstances to miss the island. After 23 days in the boat, we sighted land, which proved to be the island or Rodriguez, fifteen miles away on the port side. We all gave three hearty cheers. Some of the white men wept with joy.
Captain Foster gave all hands a full cigarette tin of water, which was relished, but no one could eat biscuit. We sailed up under the stern of a 2000-ton steam tramp off the island. It was 7 o'clock in the evening, and when we were hailed by the people on the steamer we told them we were a shipwrecked crew 23 days adrift at sea. Their pilot came off in a small boat and took us through the reef to the wharf. It was difficult for us to walk when we stepped ashore. Our ankles were frightfully swollen, and we had to be supported.
Three or four of the worst cases had to be carried to the hospital A rapid recovery was made under the kindly treatment of the local doctor and residents. The cable station there dispatched the glad tidings of our escape, from death to our relatives and the ships owners. The other boat reached the island of Mauritius.
Going up the Thames as passengers on the Union Castle liner Joorkha, shipping on all sides greeted us with bunting and whistles. Captain C. P. T. Foster of the. Trevessa, and his chief officer Mr. James Charles Stewart-Smith, who was in charge of the second boat each received Lloyds' silver medal for saving lives at sea. Captain Foster proved himself a true Britisher throughout the whole of the terrible ordeal He was the hero of this adventure.
K.
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Post by Treboat on Aug 11, 2022 14:02:22 GMT
The ship was owned by the Hain Steam Ship Company of 24 St Mary Axe, London. P&O bought Hain's in 1917 from Sir Edward Hain following the death of his only son that year in WW1 and therefore with nobody to take of Company. I visited Mauritius in the early 1960's as a Hain apprentice and was able to take a new House Flag ashore to the British Sailors Society in Port Louis so that they could fly it of "Trevessa Day" The life boat that remain on Mautitius was put aboard a Clan Line ship during the 2nd world war to replace one of her which had been damaged [possibly by enemy action] The Clan Line ship apparently was sunk not long after leaving Port Louis.
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Post by Treboat on Aug 11, 2022 14:10:51 GMT
The Trevessa was owned by the Hain Steam Ship Company of 24 St Mary Axe, London. P&O bought Hain's in 1917 from Sir Edward Hain following the death of his only son that year during WW1 and therefore with nobody to take of Company. P&O took no real interest the management of the company until 1972 when they absorbed all their ships, then part of Hain-Nourse Management into the various divisions of P&O and renamed the cargo ships starting with the prefix Strath..?, In my view a tragic end to a long shipping heritage. I visited Mauritius in the early 1960's as a Hain apprentice and was able to take a new House Flag ashore to the British Sailors Society in Port Louis so that they could fly it on "Trevessa Day". The life boat that remain on Mautitius was put aboard a Clan Line ship during the 2nd world war to replace one of her own which had been damaged [possibly by enemy action] The Clan Line ship apparently was sunk not long after leaving Port Louis. |
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Post by Treboat. on Aug 11, 2022 14:33:39 GMT
The TREVESSA was owned by the Hain Steam Ship Company of 24 St Mary Axe London, this company was taken over by P&O in 1917 following the death of the Chairman's St Edward Hain, only son during the war. P&O took little of no interest in Hain until they absorbed all their ship during the rationalisation into divisions of P&O in the early 1970's. All the ships were renamed starting with the prefix Strath, a tragic end to a fine shipping heritage. I had the good fortune as a Hain apprentice to visit Mauritius and to deliver one of the company house flags to the British Sailors Society in Port Louis so that they could fly in on Trevessa Day which I presume was 26th June each year. The single lifeboat left behind in Port Louis was put aboard a Clan Line ship during the 2nd World War after one of hers was damaged [possibly by enemy action] Tragically the Clan Line ship was sunk after leaving Port Louis.
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Post by TREBOAT on Aug 11, 2022 14:38:48 GMT
The TREVESSA was owned by the Hain Steam Ship Company of 24 St Mary Axe London, this company was taken over by P&O in 1917 following the death of the Chairman's Sir Edward Hain's, only son during the war. P&O took little or no interest in Hain until they absorbed all their ships during the rationalisation into divisions of P&O in the early 1970's. All the ships were renamed starting with the prefix Strath, a tragic end to a fine shipping heritage. I had the good fortune as a Hain apprentice to visit Mauritius in the early 1960's and to deliver one of the company house flags to the British Sailors Society in Port Louis so that they could fly in on Trevessa Day which I presume was 26th June each year. The single lifeboat left behind in Port Louis was put aboard a Clan Line ship during the 2nd World War after one of hers was damaged [possibly by enemy action] Tragically the Clan Line ship was sunk after leaving Port Louis. |
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Post by treboat on Aug 11, 2022 14:41:57 GMT
The Trevessa was owned by the Hain Steam Ship Company of 24 St Mary Axe, London. P&O bought Hain's in 1917 from Sir Edward Hain following the death of his only son that year during WW1 and therefore with nobody to take of Company. P&O took no real interest the management of the company until 1972 when they absorbed all their ships, then part of Hain-Nourse Management into the various divisions of P&O and renamed the cargo ships starting with the prefix Strath..?, In my view a tragic end to a long shipping heritage. I visited Mauritius in the early 1960's as a Hain apprentice and was able to take a new House Flag ashore to the British Sailors Society in Port Louis so that they could fly it on "Trevessa Day". The life boat that remain on Mautitius was put aboard a Clan Line ship during the 2nd world war to replace one of her own which had been damaged [possibly by enemy action] The Clan Line ship apparently was sunk not long after leaving Port Louis. |
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Post by Administrator on Aug 11, 2022 23:06:15 GMT
Thanks for your input treboat, I hope you do not mind if, when I have time
I re-type it.
Keith.
PS. Have founnd more of your post and agai thank you
K.
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