DECREE NISI.

The Herald, Melbourne, 9 April, 1912.

Made Absolute By Death.

One of the passengers by the

steamer Koombana which is supposed

to have foundered, with all on board,

during a hurricane on the northern

coast of West Australia, was the 

petitioner in a divorce suit heard in 

Melbourne early this year. He alleged

that his wife had been unfaithful to

him, and he based his allegations on

certain letters which he found in his

wife's desk, and on certain oral 

evidence. A decree nisi was 

pronounced.

The petitioner, who was a traveller,

after spending some weeks In 

Melbourne went to West Australia to 

resume a rather extensive business

connection which he had established

in the northern ports of that State.

He took passage in the Koombana, 

and when there were only a few days 

to run for the making of the decree 

nisi absolute for the dissolution of the

marriage the first wreckage from the

Koombana was discovered. The law,

however, will still take its course, and

when the necessary time expires the

order nisi will be made absolute in

the same way as if the petitioner were

still alive.

Sobering.

WHAT WAS CAPTAIN ALLEN TO DO?

Much has been written about the commander of Koombana, Thomas Allen, none more so than in Annie Boyd's outstanding Koombana Days. One comfortably comes to the conclusion that the man was competent and well respected. He was also cautious, an asset considering the challenges posed by the schedule and port-access along the Nor'West coast. 

These remarks were made in the newspapers of the time:

"It speaks well for the personal qualities of Captain 

Allen that he is generally recognised as the most

popular master that has ever traded to the 

north-west coast." 

Captain Allen took up the challenge of the 'jinxed' flagship just 7 months prior to the disaster and immediately made himself popular among regular passengers, who in turn referred to 'travelling by Tom Allen's boat' rather than Koombana by name.

"Captain Allen is a native of  South Australia, 

and is about 48 years of age.  He is a single man, 

and when on his holiday  resides with his mother 

at Port Adelaide."

On the day of the disaster:

"Captain Allen, of the Koombana, seemed

disinclined to go out, and when he decided

to do so he said, "I am going straight out to

sea, and will be lucky if I get to Broome on

Saturday." 

But perhaps the most telling of all newspaper extracts referred to a letter written two weeks prior to the disaster by Tom Allen, as follows:

 "It was dated March 8, and in it Captain Allen

said that he had got through the worst of

the season as far as the climate was concerned. 

"I just kept clear of a blow last trip,"

he added, "but as soon as I got round the

North-West Cape it started, so my luck was

in that time."

We may infer from Captain Allen's comments 'so my luck was in that time' that he had deep concerns about Koombana's stability in a 'blow'.

Reminds me of:

'Just before reaching Hedland we struck a squall and the ship lay over at an angle of 45 degrees and was quite a long time before straightening up.'  (ref. Annie Boyd)

Let's return to the primary factor which precipitated the disaster of 20 March, 1912. No, not the cyclone, but the outer bar at Port Hedland, 19 ft. deep on a spring tide, Wednesday morning.

Annie Boyd offers us one of the most important collections of information relating to this tidal port in the form of 6 log entries of Koombana's draft figures departing Port Hedland, September through December, 1911.

These are sequential and give us important clues into Captain Allen's approach to the inherently top heavy steamer. 

The entries immediately tell us that Koombana's return trip to Derby to and from Port Hedland took one week and on the occasions that Koombana went up as far as Wyndham, this round trip took two weeks.

The more important information comes in the details of the draft figures themselves and understanding the contentious issue of emptying ballast tanks to clear the outer bar.

This is a complex subject, the details of which best reminded by reviewing previous posts:

https://koombanarevisited.blogspot.com/2019/09/getting-to-grips-with-tanks.html

https://koombanarevisited.blogspot.com/2019/09/revelations-and-contradictions.html

  

Let's start with the draft figures for the first departure from Port Hedland, 22 September, 1911:

14'8"forward                                9.30 a.m.

18'6"aft

What is immediately clear is that Captain Allen departed Port Hedland with all tanks full and a sizable consignment of cargo. 

Captain Upjohn, referring to his lengthy tenure on Koombana, claimed  forward draft figures of 12 - 13 ft., all forward tanks full and 17 ft. aft with one tank empty, when exiting Port Hedland. This implied the routine filling of at least one tank out at sea. 

Captain Allen, clearly, was not following this tried and tested recipe, but displayed a cautious approach to the inherently top heavy steamer by maintaining markedly greater, more stable, draft figures. However, such an approach significantly increased the risk of damaging bar strikes.

Also note time of departure, close to the 10 a.m. peak, allowing plenty time to get to Broome by the following day's spring tide access and clearing Bedout Island during daylight hours. With greater draft figures Captain Allen had to depart as close to 10 a.m. as possible.

The schedule for this voyage included one stop at Port Hedland, which allowed the arrival and departure to made as close to the peak of the spring tide as possible.

The second departure, dated 5 October, 1911, is as follows:

13'0"forward                              8.40 a.m.

17'8"aft 

In this instance the forward reading is within Upjohn's 13 - 14 ft. range, forward tanks full, which in large part could have been due to the significantly reduced cargo consignment compared with the previous trip. The aft figure is still greater than 17 ft. which suggests that the aft tanks were full on this occasion as well.

The cautious master is reluctant to give up his ballast stability and one imagines that he assumes the reduced cargo component factor has sufficiently reduced the draft to clear the bar.

Again he departs early, in fact earlier than the maximum spring tide, allowing for more than adequate time to make Broome by the next day spring tide and clearing Bedout during daylight.

By 25 October, 1911, captain Allen has another go:

14'3"forward                             11.25 a.m.

18'0"aft

These figures suggest that Captain Allen was still determined to maintain Koombana's ballast stability at the expense of bar strikes and on this occasion the forward loading has increased compared to the previous trip out of Port Hedland. The later departure time of 11.25 a.m., well after 10 a.m., suggests running 'late' but leaves enough time to clear Bedout in daylight hours, as there are no tanks to fill at sea.

By 1 November, 1911, it looks as though Captain Allen is gaining in confidence keeping all tanks filled, attempting to exit the tidal port with minimal clearance and quite late in the day. What is remarkable is that this departure 1 week after his initial visit to Port Hedland must have been on a relatively low tide volume over the bar. The departure later in the day is because the steamer was heading south and did not have to clear Bedout.

 12'2"forward                           2.10 p.m.

18'8"aft 

From these figures one gets an impression that Captain Allen's luck must have run out, particularly with regard to the aft figure of 18 ft. 8 in. and the very late departure. It is almost certain that he 'bumped' going out. The relatively low forward draft reflects that the bulk of cargo had been discharged on the trip up the coast.

By 10 December we get another perspective on departing the dreaded tidal port: 

15'3"forward                             12.50 p.m.

17'9"aft

The aft figure of 17 ft. 9 in. reduced almost a foot compared with the previous departure suggests that the bulk of cargo was assigned forward in the ship, increasing forward draft significantly to 15'3". The man is, however, still determined to keep his tanks full and ensure stability at the expense of 'bumping' the bar.

He departs again late well beyond 10 a.m., making the 3.5 hour run to Bedout well within daylight hours. No tanks to fill at sea.

Final voyage for the year, Christmas Day, 1911, he departs Port Hedland at ten to one in the early, dark hours of the morning, 2 hours after the 10 p.m. peak. Remember, the steamer was heading south and did not have to clear Bedout. Although this date is two weeks after his first visit (Wyndham terminus) and should have coincided with a peak spring tide, there is a significant change in Captain Allen's approach to the bar and it's as though the tried and tested recipe referred to by Captain Upjohn is finally winning the day:

13'6"forward                             00.50 a.m.

16'9"aft

It is clear from these figures that Captain Allen had finally conceded to that which had gone before him, i.e. emptying at least one tank aft. (after peak or number 6) and keeping forward tanks full, precisely as Captain Upjohn informed the Inquiry had been the approach for 17 of his voyages in and out of Port Hedland aboard Koombana.

We do not have any further entries between the end of December 1911 and the disaster. One assumes that Captain Allen maintained this more judicious approach to exiting Port Hedland with at least one aft tank empty, compromising stability somewhat and incurring the challenge of filling tanks at sea, but a necessity demanded to avoid damaging bar strikes.

Finally, we arrive at the figures on departure from Port Hedland for the last time. I unequivocally accept the figures offered in the Hedland Advocate by Mr. Barker after discussions with Port Hedland's harbour master: 

16 ft. aft.                    10.20 a.m.

11 ft. forward

Captain Allen leaves as close to 10 a.m. as possible to make the most of the spring tide.

The draft figures illustrate very light condition, which is what we would expect with all tanks empty and the minimal cargo component of 260 tons, forward. Tom Allen said so himself that he would fill all tanks out at sea. Why are these figures so much lower than those above, and in particular, the last entry?

20 March, 1912, 10.20 a.m. there was a gale blowing from the NE and a 'broad, rolling sea'; a ground swell from the NW. Generally conditions off Port Hedland are remarkably calm. But 20 March the beast had been awakened. Some pearlers out on luggers referred to swells of up to 50 ft..

Captain Allen knew that he would need a healthy margin of clearance over the bar (19 ft.) in order not to bump, and bump hard. A violent bar strike could potentially have caused the loss of rudder and subsequently the steamer. Captain Allen knew that his top heavy charge would pitch and roll violently as she broached the outer bar. There could be no room for error; clearance had to be guaranteed.

Naturally, once this feat had been achieved, a new and more deadly challenge arose - the filling of all tanks in gale conditions with a 'big sea'. It is my opinion that the successful pressing up of all tanks in these conditions within a 3 hour time frame window, was not going to be possible.

Captain Allen could not win that day; checkmated by circumstances.


Many years later the following appeared in a newspaper, summing up the truth about Koombana:

The West Australian, Perth, 5 October, 1946

"Although I greatly admired the ship's 

(Koombana) appointments. I never 

liked her, considering her too top-heavy.

She always had a list, even when tied 

up at jetties.

The loss of this fine vessel, and a

the inauguration of the State Shipping 

Service, apparently discouraged our 

old friends (Adelaide Steamship Co)

and their passenger vessels were shortly

afterwards withdrawn from our 

North-West coast."

Fix this text

Courtesy Boyd, Annie. Koombana Days (p. 246). Fremantle Press. Kindle Edition; Trove 

R.M.S. KOOMBANA.

courtesy: Trove - Chronicle Adelaide, 30 March, 1912

TURNER RIVER.

The Advertiser, Adelaide, 28 March, 1912.

The Deputy Postmaster-General received

telegrams from Roebourne and Port 

Hedland this afternoon. Roebourne reported

that a telegraph line repairing party were

20 miles out and making slow progress, and

it was impossible to travel the line road

with horses, the country being very boggy.

A message from Port Hedland states that

a repairing party were on the south line,

which was believed to be badly damaged at

Turner River.

What is interesting to note is that the Turner River is adjacent to Cossack and Roebourne, 31 miles to the southwest of Balla Balla, within the most conservative estimation of the cyclone's diameter (90 miles). 

Port Hedland was not as is clear from the image - extract from the same newspaper report as follows:

"Scarcely any damage

was caused by the 

hurricane at Port Hedland."

courtesy Google Earth

BIRDS AND SHARKS.

The SS Gorgon:

The Black Range Courier, 4 April, 1912.

Proceeding onwards, the

steamer passed by several

small pieces of wreckage. 

One was a painting stage, 

and others apparently small 

pieces of wood.

Birds were about in unusually

large numbers.

Captain Rantzau of the SS Una:

Fix this text

 

"I would also like to state at this particular place there were a large number of sharks to be seen."

In my summary post 

https://koombanarevisited.blogspot.com/2018/07/summary.html

I refer to the absence of bodies indicating all trapped within the hull of Koombana which in all probability turned turtle.

But this is not entirely accurate as the presence of birds and sharks meant only one thing in association with wreckage from a ship accident,

bodies.

Yes, perhaps these were crew on deck rather than passengers battened down below.

Harsh reality!

"SCARCELY ANY DAMAGE DONE AT PORT HEDLAND."

Kalgoorlie Western Argus, 2 April, 1912.

NO DAMAGE TO PORT HEDLAND

SOME SEVENTY DROWNED.

THE SEARCH FOR THE 

KOOMBANA.

BULLARA REPORTS ILL-

SUCCESS.

The following message, which

came from a correspondent at Port

Hedland, was sent from that place

by wire to Broome, thence to Ban-

joewanje (Java), thence to Port 

Darwin, thence by the overland lines 

to Adelaide, thence to Eucla and

Perth:-

"Port Hedland, March 27, 11.45

a.m.-Scarcely any damage done at

Port Hedland, but is estimated that

32 white persons have perished in

Fix this text

the cyclone, and about 40 coloured

men. These all were drowned 

between Canangarra and Depuche.

The steamer Bullarra arrived here

this morning searching for the 

missing Koombana. On being 

communicated with the master of 

the Bullarra stated that although he 

kept a close look-out throughout the 

whole of his passage, he failed to find 

any trace whatever of the missing 

vessel. No news has been received

from anywhere as to the steamer.

Due to the line being down, cables were re-routed via Java and Adelaide - extraordinary!

WIRELESS - "WHERE IS MZP?"

The Daily News, Perth, 27 March, 1912

WHERE IS 'M.Z.P.?'

THE UNANSWERED CALL. -

THE KOOMBANA'S WIRELESS.

INTERESTING THEORY EXPLAINED.

- 'M.Z.P.! Zip, zip, z-z-z-z, zip!

M.Z.P.!'

All around the coasts of Australia,

and far into the Indian Ocean the

aerials of the wireless-equipped vessels

have been sending off Hertzian waves

with the above inquiry.

'M.Z.P.!' 'M.Z.P.!' - with tireless

energy the inquiry is being made, for

those letters represent the wireless

designation of the steamer Koombana

and along the western, southern, and

even eastern coasts of Australia, are

countless instruments seeking to get

in touch with 'M.Z.P.' and to 'receive'

an 'answer', even if it be the dreaded

distress signals, 'S.O.S.' or 'C.Q.D.'

So far  no reply has been received,

and although from a hundred-and-one

different points the blue sparks have

flashed from the instruments, and the.

continuous snapping of the message

has been followed with tense eagerness 

by a listening at the detector for

a reply, ever so faint, the Koombana's

instruments have remained silent, and

her whereabouts remains a mystery.

From many a high power and low

power instrument has the monotonous

signal gone forth, but nowhere, as far

as can be learnt, has there been picked

up a reply. This fact led a 'Daily News' 

reporter to make some inquiry as to the 

wireless installation on the Koombana

and some interesting particulars were

gleaned, particulars which lead to the

hope that after all the vessel may be 

safe, yet particulars also which have 

their grave side.

When the Koombana was at Fremantle 

last, it was found that some slight mishap 

had occurred to her wireless and an expert 

late at night had to motor to the port in order 

to fix matters up. This was successfully

accomplished and tests made proved

that the instruments were in good order.

Here it may be explained that the Koombana

is fitted with a standard power installation 

enabling her to send messages up to 250

miles in the day time, and considerably 

further at night time, according to the state 

of the atmosphere. In addition to this, she has 

an emergency plant, which is worked, not 

with a dynamo, but on the dry cell principle.

This will only allow of messages being

sent up to 100 miles, and would, with

use, work itself out in about 40 hours.

Some vessels, too, carry three aerials

— that is, the wires stretched from

mast to mast to receive messages —

but the Koombana had but two. 

In charge of the wireless on the steamer

was Mr. Lyon, a young operator from

one of the Commonwealth post offices,

who had been recently broken in to

wireless and whose first trip in charge

this was.

In conversation with a wireless expert 

our representative was given an

interesting theory of what may have

happened to the Koombana to explain

why she had not been heard of per

wireless. Said the expert: 'You see,

in a big storm such as raged up there

it is quite possible that the Koombana 

may have had her aerials carried

away, one or both of them. This

would necessitate a considerable delay,

more or less in extent, according to

the damage done. There is material

aboard the steamer for the repairing

of the wireless, but probably, with the

little experience, Lyon has had this

work would take longer than usual.

Again, supposing the Koombana 

shipped some very heavy seas, and 

the water found its way down to the

machine room, this would have the 

effect of putting out of action the high

power portion of the installation, and

from that time the Koombana although

able to receive from all over the place 

messages through her 'detector',

would be quite unable, except

with the 100-miler, to send any or to

answer. 

Thus, we may say, the position 

may be that the steamer is disabled 

somewhere, and is effecting repairs, 

and. all the time hearing the 'M.Z.P.' 

signal all day and all night long, and 

perfectly unable to reply.

For, of course, by this time, she would

have exhausted the dry-cell machine,

and even if that were not the case it

is not likely that there are any steamers 

fitted with wireless within 100 miles of 

the Koombana to pick up her

message's.''

"How would the atmospheric conditions 

affect the sending and receiving of 

messages?"

"That is a very important point. You

must know, you see, that for some

obscure reason or other it is easier to

transmit messages east and west than

it is to send them north and south.

So there, you see the messages being

sent out for the Koombana are nearly

all going north and south. 

There are, doubtless, operators on 

the other side making a chance of 

picking up the vessel. They may through 

some extraordinary, favorable circumstances,

succeed— if the steamer is afloat —but

the odds are against, owing to the

great extent of land to be passed over.

The atmosphere has a wonderful lot

of influence in the sending of messages. 

This is, of course, only natural, seeing 

that the messages are sent through the 

air. But it is a wonderful thing, but a fact, 

that by means of 'the' detectors attached 

to the wireless instruments — so sensitive 

are they— atmospheric disturbances, 

thunderstorms, etc., can be registered 

long before the barometer registers their 

approach.

And in the Nor'-West, at this time of 

the year, the air is, so to speak, full

of electrical atmospherical disturbances, 

all of which militate against successful 

long-distance wireless." 

"Usually you receive quicker replies

when calling up a vessel?"

"Yes. - As a matter of fact, I know

myself of an instance where a steamer,

and quite recently too, just leaving

Adelaide, sent out a certain urgent

call, and within half an hour  received

no fewer than 22 replies. All day

long and all night long messages are

being snapped out across the water,

and one gets tremendous surprises at

times, in messages being heard which are

being sent from all sorts of unthought of

places. 

Yes, if the Koombana is above 

water — and I fancy she is, for

she is a splendid sea boat — I think she

has had a mishap to her machinery,

which has prevented her from steaming

and consequently put out of gear

her wireless."

And still through the air, calling,

calling, calling, travels the vibrations

of the *'M.Z.P.,' zip 'zip, z-z-z-z, zip,

'M.Z.P.' message — unseen fingers

searching and prying into every hook

where ether is, and still no answer

and no message. Where is 'M.Z.P.'?

This is a fascinating insight into the early days of wireless communication. As yet, the west coast did not have any wireless stations to receive or transmit messages. Communication relied exclusively on the limited number of steamers carrying wireless sets. Certainly, most of the older coastal steamers did not. 

An interesting point is made that although the emergency battery-operated unit might have been working, there were unlikely to have been steamers carrying wireless within the narrow 100 mile range to receive a distress call.

Harry Lyon was clearly a novice, which introduces a number of potential operator-related limitations during a crisis at sea. 

Furthermore, Koombana's wireless had experienced some form of malfunction prior to departure from Fremantle, a problem which might have resurfaced after departing Port Hedland, 20 March. We know that Koombana was in communication with the steamer Gneissenau whilst at Hedland.

Shipping water might have been the final straw for the more powerful unit compounded by the two aerials coming adrift.

We shall probably never know the full details of that awful day and moment, but this comprehensive report gives us important insights.

THE WIRELESS.

Hedland Advocate, 30 September, 1911.

Wireless on. the s.s.

Koombana.

The enterprising A.S.S. Co. has

the Nor'-West mail boat equipped

with Marconi wireless apparatus.

All along the coast great interest

has been manifested in the equipment,

the details of which were courteously 

explained by the operator, Mr J. L. 

Mulholland. In order to obtain an 

efficient service the Marconi Wireless 

Co. insists on the working of both ship 

and stations by officers trained to

obey the same rules and regulations.

Hence the apparatus on the

Koombana is the property of the

Marconi Co. and is worked by that

Co.'s own operator. It is the usual

ship's set, as installed on the English 

mail boats. There is also an 

emergency set aboard, which is 

worked independently of the 

ship's electric supply.

On Wednesday night of last

week, while off Hedland (on the

up-trip) the Koombana was in

communication with the Karoola,

which vessel was steaming past

Cape Leeuwin. The Karoola recently

communicated with Cocos

Island over a distance of 2,250

miles.

During the trip from Fremantle

the Koombana communicated for

several days in succession with the

Ascaulus, Osterley, China, Seuvic,

and the Karoola.

There are now nearly 600 merchant

ships fitted with the Marconi

wireless system.

The Pilbarra Goldfield News, 25 April, 1912

The Koombana.

PROBABLY FOUNDERED MARCH 21.

According to Wireless Message.

Picked up in Bali Strait by Steamer

Montora.

Perth, April 19.

The steamer Montora arrived at

Port Darwin from Singapore last week,

and brought the last message from the

Koombana.

While passing through Bali Strait

on March 21, going towards Singapore,

she spoke the Koombana. The wireless 

operator said he failed to catch the

message clearly, but he learned the

Koombana was in trouble, and the

message ended with confused signals.

This was a further, intriguing dimension to the Koombana disaster. The captain of the Montora later denied this exchange of messages.

Hypothetically speaking could such an exchange have taken place given the range of Koombana's wireless as outlined in the above reports - maximum 250 miles during the day?

The site of the disaster was 700 miles from the Bali Straight. It does seem unlikely, given the north-south axis as referred to, even under the best of circumstances.

courtesy Google Earth

courtesy Trove.