Wednesday, 6 November 2019

SUFFICIENT WARNING AND FOUR THEORIES.

There can be no doubt that the signs were there when Captains Upjohn and Allen departed Port Hedland, 20 March, 1912:

Hedland Advocate, 6 April, 1912

It was preceded by hot, stifling days.
On Monday (2 days prior) several
divers who have been years on this
coast, warned their masters that
there were sudden changes of hot
and cold water, below, with a 
ground swell, which although
the surface of the sea was calm
and the glass good, they declared
indicated the approach of a blow.

(A similar warning was given by
old divers two days before the
disastrous Broome blow.)

Quite suddenly on Tuesday (the day
before) night a strong cockeye (large
whirlwind) blew up from the east, 
followed by moderate winds and a little 
rain. On Wednesday the wind shifted 
slightly to the south, increasing in its 
strength, and by midday it was again 
blowing from the east - all through 
blowing in gusts, accompanied
by occasional showers.

According to Bullarra accounts, it was blowing a gale from the N.E. when the two steamers put out to sea.

By the time (about 10.30 a.m.) the Koombana
and Bullarra (about an hour later) (20 minutes
later) had left Hedland it began to excite alarm, 
luggers moved up the creek and people bolted up
their houses. Two or three layers of swiftly
racing clouds could frequently be seen
through the prevailing mist. 

'Exciting alarm' is graphic and clear in its meaning. 

It blew with terrific force whenever it shifted 
its course, and in Hedland we miraculously escaped
its full force, but the Bullarra struck its full fury 
three hours out, and the Koombana must have 
struck it earlier.

The hurricane was moving southward, and
its centre was not far out to sea, as the
Bullarra experienced half an hour's dead
calm (in which is was possible to keep a
match alight) in the middle of the hurricane.

What must the feelings of those on board the
lightly loaded Koombana as the wind and
water came booming against her with
resistless power?  

A 'lightly loaded' steamer implied a top heavy one.

Officers of the ships Moira and Bullarra 
say the rapidity of the storm was indescribable, 
the wind driving from the raging and foaming 
sea spray like a snow storm, which mingled with 
the clouds.

As the Koombana left the port, she was so
light that her propeller was partly out of the
water, and in the small swell at the entrance,
was racing. 

The clincher. 

Hedland was clear about the compromised seaworthiness of Koombana when she departed for the last time. The top of Koombana's propeller was 16.5 ft., suggesting that all tanks were empty. 

How effectively these were filled at sea, we shall never know...

Once outside, Captain Allen had
no other course open but that which led his
ship right into the vortex of the tremendous
elemental strife which prevailed at sea.

I disagree. 

The system was clearly visible to crew on board Bullarra towards the west into which they were steaming. 

Conversely, Koombana was steaming into the northeast, away from the centre of the system.

With a map or chart before the reader, and
following record, taken in Hedland, the fact
is easily borne in upon the mind that the
Koombana had to go into danger to avoid
land and reefs:

                March 20

4 p.m. east, wind fresh
10 p.m. east and northeast, strong

More in line with the Bullarra accounts; a gale from the northeast.

                March 21

10 a.m., east strong
12 noon, east-north-east, very strong
1 p.m. east-north-east, hurricane force
2 p.m. to 9 p.m., north-east, hurricane force
10 p.m. north-north-east, hurricane force
12 midnight, north, a howling hurricane

                 March 22

4 a.m. till noon, north-north-west hurricane
The wind very gradually fell from 2 p.m.
and at early morning was blowing with
occasional strong puffs from the west.

It is fairly certain that the Koombana was not
more than 70 miles from Hedland, and in the
worst part of the Hurricane, on Wednesday
night or Thursday, and sank.

90 miles if Captain Upjohn's coordinates are accurate. This was 130 miles from the centre of the cyclone, 90 miles in diameter. 

No, Koombana was far away from the worst part of the hurricane.

The seas off Bedout are dreaded by seamen
when an ordinary strong wind blows, and it
cannot be conceived what they were like
during the height of this gale.

It is also certain that the light on Bedout was
out on Wednesday night.

The public alarm at the continued absence of
news of the Koombana increased to confusion,
consternation and distress. Two luggers went
in search from Broome, each taking a different
course towards Rowley Shoals and into Hedland.
Harper's lugger, the first to arrive here picked up
a piece of board off Bedout, which, from
appearances, did not at first give an
impression that it came from Koombana.
The Bullarra searched the steamers'
course from Hedland to Broome, and the
Minderoo made a systematic search of the
coast from Onslow to Depuch, each
without result.

On Tuesday evening came undoubted
evidence of the fact that the Koombana
had foundered with about 140 souls
aboard. The Gorgon arrived at Hedland
on Tuesday evening having searched as
far out as Rowley Shoals. The ship's log
contained the following (the words in
brackets being our own): "On April 2,
at 10.15 a.m. lat. 19 10 S, long. 119 06 E
(40 fathoms), picked up a panelled door,
painted white on one side, been polished
on the other, silver fittings, marked "W&H
(Walker & Hall) finger-plate both sides
ornament with Grecian urn with hanging
wreath, each side; door forced by pressure;
(water pressure?) handle on white side was 
gone, and on the reverse side drawn in; 
builders' joiner had written this on paits hidden 
from paint and drawn off the door post by the 
door hinges, Stat (here was a joiner's cut in the 
pencilled lettering, leaving only traces of the 
letters, which appeared to be State Room - 
first class entrance, 429; the lock is marked 
N.F. Ramsay & Co, Newcastle-on-Tyne; 
several small leather heads attached about 
3.2 inches long."

The log adds that half an hour later the ship
passed through several small pieces of
wreckage, one a painting stage, and the
others apparently small pieces of board,
but, strange to relate, the ship was not
stopped to pick them up.

The Minderoo (Captain Mills) arrived
in Hedland on Wednesday morning, having
been four days out from Depuch, making
a very systematic search. We have seen the
chart of this search, and passengers declare
that the Captain rarely left the bridge, a
fact which was borne out by his jaded
appearance on arriving at Hedland.

April 2, in lat. 19 36 S, long. 117 53 E,
sighted wreckage on the port bow. Stopped
and picked up a leather cushion for settee.
Cruised round for half an hour but sighted
 no more wreckage. Then sailed east 18
miles, north 24 miles, at 4.30 p.m., lat.
19 32 S, long. 118 09 E, picked up
bottom boards of a boat, numbered
429, and a small teak wood panel. Sailed
east 14 miles and then south to Hedland.
The search from Depuch to the turning of
this port gave vision to some miles of sea
surface, 12,000 square. A master mariner
has worked out these directions and
distances. The door, 25 miles north of
Bedout and 75 miles north-north-east
of this port. Cushion, 70 miles west of
Bedout and 60 miles northwest of this
port. Boards (Minderoo), 54 miles west
by north of Bedout and 55 miles north-west
by north of this port both the Gorgon and
the Minderoo passed through thousands of
bottle straw envelopes, and, as the Koombana
had shipped 27 tons of empty bottles (mostly
enveloped) from this port, it is evident these
came from the doomed ship's hold.


 "Leech's Fortune,"
as the huge stack of empties had
become known, was transferred
as deck cargo to the Koombana.

27 tons on deck would have presented a further, alarming decrease in Koombana's GM i.e. increasing top heaviness. Against this claim must surely be the fact that these many straw envelopes would have been discovered much earlier if released, unobstructed from Koombana's main deck. 

It does seem more likely that the envelopes were stowed in lower holds, released over time from the sunken ship, leaving behind the heavier bottles.

Capt. Dalziel (schooner
Muriel), who took the outer
course in a search from
Broome to Rowley's Shoals and
into Hedland, arrived here on
Thursday night, and saw no
wreckage. The schooner met
the Bullarra, on its second
search; and she had found,
25 miles north of Bedout: the 
bow of a boat with the A.S.S. 
Coy's, badge on it, the bottom 
boards of a boat, life-boat tanks, 
life belts, and a panel from either 
the saloon or smoke-room ceiling.
The following theories as
to the Koombana's fate have
been hazarded :

1. Mountainous seas flooded
the ship by means of her cattle
decks and she sank.

Acknowledging the cattle deck as a weak link for water ingress.

2. Bedout light being extinguished,
Capt. Allen misjudged
his position in the
dark, the ship struck and
turned over, or her bottom being
torn out she subsequently
sank in deep water.

This would certainly explain the 150-200 ft. submerged bilge discovered by Bullarra in July, 1912.

3. Machinerery became disabled
and the vessel, left to the fearful 
wind and seas, foundered. 
continued on Page 8
S

4. That when the vessel
attempted to alter her northward
course, to face the hurricane,
she heeled over, the wind drove
the water from her bottom, and
the next big sea turned her
completely over.

Frighteningly to the point! Note the thoughts leaning towards a top heavy vessel turning over, completely. I am of the opinion that this is EXACTLY what happened.

Nos. 2 and 4 are theories
held by seamen most competent
to judge. The opinion
generally held , by Nor'-West
residents was that the Koombana
would meet her fate in
the first willy willy she
struck, and we have had a sad
fulfilment of that prophecy.

A blatant acknowledgement of the steamer's shortcomings. No wonder Captain Allen looked ill before he sailed that day.

Seamen are of the opinion
that from Bedout Island the
area of the sea in which the
Koombana is situated can be
seen with the naked eye.

Suggesting within a radius of 10 miles from Bedout.

A fortnight has elapsed since the
blow, yet the sea for 100 miles
from the shore "is like pea soup."

'Pea soup' a shroud for 158 lost souls.



courtesy Trove

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