Tuesday, 17 March 2020

THE STORM.

The Northam Advertiser, 20 April, 1912.

The Balla Balla Cyclone.
A NORTHAMITE'S EXPERIENCE.
It will be remembered that in addition 
to the foundering of the Koombana 
with all hands, the recent cyclone in 
the Nor'West was responsible for 
heavy loss of life through the wreck 
of the Crown of England and the 
destruction of several pearling luggers. 
A graphic description of the storm at 
Balla Balla and its disastrous effects 
is given in a letter just received by 
Mr. and Mrs. Thorley, of this town, 
from their son Dick, who left here 
about twelve months ago, and has 
since been engaged in the pearling 
industry round about the locality in 
which the Koombana met her fate. 
Not only to those who know Mr. Thorley, 
but to our readers generally, his vivid 
description of the storm and his 
personal connection therewith, will be 
of interest. He writes:
"On Tuesday, the 19th of March,
the day before the storm started,
my boats were working with five
others about 13 miles north of Balla.
The weather was beautiful, but we
were not doing too well for shell,
and started for Port Hedland about
nine o'clock in the morning, with one
other boat, belonging to the man I'm
working for. We got about 15 miles
from Port Hedland by about ten
o'clock the same night, and it 
commenced to blow and rain with 
vengeance. 

It cannot be argued that prior to and including Wednesday 20 March, there were NO indications of a storm developing.

We anchored for the night, the wind 
increasing, every hour. At daylight it 
was blowing half a gale, and it was 
impossible for us to go to Port Hedland. 
The seas were mountains high, and 
there was a direct head wind. 

This description matches that of the cattleman on board Bullarra - half gale (from the ENE). One can understand why Captain Allen was deeply worried, claiming that it would be unlikely to make Broome before Saturday, given the 'headwind' and seas described. 

The seas, 'mountains high', were precisely the reason for departing Port Hedland with ALL tanks empty so as not to strike the bar; and strike hard. Koombana, in such light condition, must have rolled and pitched to an alarming degree clearing the bar and broaching open sea. 

Filling tanks in such conditions was never going to end well....

While I was considering where to go 
and what to do, the anchor chain broke, 
and we lost about forty fathoms of chain 
and the anchor. The only thing left was 
to run before the gale, and we did, and
made towards Balla, and anchored
safely at one o'clock in the afternoon 
of Wednesday. It took us about three 
hours to do fifty miles, and you can 
imagine the wind that was behind us 
to send us at that speed.
Only for my knowledge of Balla
Creek I might have been lost. The
other boat that was with my two
did not start when we ran before the
storm, but came later, and didn't
know the way into the Balla Creek,
and had to anchor out and ride the
storm at anchor. To save himself he
had to chop both his masts down,
and it was just good luck that he
rode it out. Of the other three luggers 
that were working with us out
from Balla when we went to Port
Hedland, one was wrecked and one
Japanese drowned. The remainder of
the crew got ashore with great difficulty 
after being three hours in the water.The 
other two luggers are still missing, and 
I fear the worst. There is one white man 
on each of those. When I dropped anchor 
in Balla I went ashore as quick as I
could to see my old friends there.
The motor launch was just about to
start out to meet the steamer (Bullarra)
which was calling that night. The 
wharfinger asked me what the weather 
was like outside, and I said it was bad,
and advised him not to go out. He
said, "I'll risk it." There was a lot
of passengers on board. When they
got outside some of the passengers
went on one of the lighters named
the Clyo. It got too rough for the launch, 
and she came back into Balla leaving 
those passengers on the Clyo.
They were the wharfinger, Mr. Maginnis
Mr. T. Hill, and Mr. Thompson and the 
three of them were drowned. I knew 
them all intimately, especially T. Hill, 
who used to be underground manager 
on the mine here. On Thursday night 
I went up to Maginnis', house. He has 
a wife and mother here, and they were 
by themselves. They were in a frightened
state when I got there, having been
by themselves the night before. All
this time the storm was raging and
increasing. Several small buildings
had been blown down at Balla jetty.
It took me about two hours to walk
up to the house from the jetty, which 
is one and a quarter miles. It was nearly 
impossible to walk against the wind, 
and if I was blown over once it must 
have been a dozen times I was almost 
crawling in some places. When I got there 
had to nail up the doors and windows 
and make fast everything that was likely 
to get blown away. All the small buildings 
had been blown away by this time. The 
storm was increasing every hour, and at two
o clock it came its worst. I don't know how
the house stood up. You could hear sheets 
of iron flying about everywhere. This is the 
time all the ships and boats were driven
ashore and smashed up, including
those luggers I mentioned in the
beginning of this letter. in the morning 
things did look bad, and the two
women were in a bad way, fearing
the boats were wrecked, but I managed 
to quieten them by telling them that the 
boats would ride the storm safely and there 
was nothing to worry, and all sorts of tales 
to pacify them. But I was certain that they 
were wrecked. I left the house at nine o'clock 
to go to the jetty, and see what could be done 
there, and had to wade through three feet
of water  all the way, the railway line all 
the way to the jetty being completely washed 
away. The next thing to do was to arrange 
about a boat going out to where the ships
were anchored near the island. The
only boat fit to go out in was one of my 
luggers. It was still blowing a gale and
raining, but the wind had gone down a lot. 
I approached the Japanese on board
about going out with me, but they
were too frightened and wouldn't go.
Then there were six of us decided to
make the Japs go ashore, and we
would go out ourselves, and so we
did. We got out after great difficulties
capsising several times. We had a dead 
head wind all the way out. When we got 
near the island (Depuch Island) we could 
see the worst had happened. All the shore 
was strewn with wreckage, and men were 
walking about with no clothes on. We got 
ashore on the island, and were told the awful 
tale — twelve men drowned and three lighters 
smashed, and one sailing ship of 2500 tons, 
and the other ship of 2500 tons driven ashore. 
They expect to get the latter afloat next spring
tide - that is in a fortnight's time. She is practically 
uninjured. 

Then the worst part of the job was getting
the dead bodies and bringing them into 
Balla. We brought four bodies back with us. 
Hill, Maginnis, the second mate, and the 
steward of the sailing ship,"The "Crown of 
England," It was an awful sight, they were 
battered, bruised and cut about, some without 
a bit of clothing on them and some with only 
their boots on. The steward of the "Crown of
England" had a coat on with a lot of rope lashed 
around his chest. He had evidently been lashed 
to a raft or something of that sort. We left the 
Island at six o'clock with the lugger to go back 
to Balla and did not get into the creek until. 
2 o'clock next morning. Four of the men who
went out with the lugger refused to come back 
with us and remained on the island with the 
survivors. It was an unpleasant job sailing from 
six until two, with it blowing half a gale, and those 
dead bodies on board.

Then, came another unpleasant part; that was 
putting them into coffins, they were just black. 
The coffins were made of boxes and the bodies
were wrapped in canvas. They didn't have time 
to get proper coffins made at Whim Creek. But 
the worst job of the lot was to break the news to
Mrs. Maginnis, which fell to my lot on account of 
knowing her better than anybody at Balla just then 
and staying with her the night before. I almost broke 
down doing it. They took the news very calmly and 
braved it like lions, but broke down later on. 
The other eight that were drowned
were buried on the Island! The wind
and rain ceased the next morning
(Saturday), and all the survivors
were brought into Balla, all more or
less cut and bruised about.

Sobering!



courtesy Trove

Friday, 13 March 2020

DEATH THROUGH SHOCK.

Leader, 31 July, 1912.

DEATH THROUGH SHOCK.
Mr. William Crane, lately employed
as a warder in Bathurst Gaol, died in
St. Vincent's Hospital on Monday
morning, after a painful illness. About
Easter time, the deceased received the
news that his only son, Fred, had
gone down with the ill-fated steamer
Koombana, and since then his health
began to fail as a result of the shock.
The deceased leaves a widow and two
daughters, who reside at Peel-street,
Bathurst.



courtesy Trove

Saturday, 22 February 2020

SUMMARY.




R.M.S. KOOMBANA




courtesy Trove




courtesy State Library of Western Australia.



Koombana was a magnificent, bespoke steamer with opulently appointed, well-ventilated, elevated passenger decks, cattle deck, and dedicated cargo holds (incl. refrigeration). But she was flawed; inherently top heavy, with a reduced draught of 20 ft. 8 in. to access harbours such as Port Hedland.

The indication of inherent top heaviness is illustrated by comparison with the similarly sized steamers Yongala and Grantala (greater draughts: 24 ft.) of the same Adelaide Steamship Company. The latter steamers, with significant top hampers, operated with ballast tank capacity of 400 tons, whereas Koombana required 900 tons to steady her.

Yongala and Grantala       3664 tons
Koombana                        3668 tons

Koombana's track record, fully ballasted, gives us the most significant confirmatory clue regarding inherent top heaviness. 8 February, 1910, Koombana allegedly heeled over to 45 degrees in a squall and took a considerable time to recover.

20 March, 1912:

All the signs indicated that Koombana and Bullarra would be departing Port Hedland before noon into unpredictable and potentially dangerous conditions. A period advisory referred to an easterly wind and falling barometer being the warning signs for pearlers to seek shelter. 'At 6 a.m. the barometer had been at 29.50', down from 29.9. Between 4 a.m. and 10 a.m., in normal conditions the barometer readings rise, not fall. The wind, a gale by noon, came from the NE. (some sources claim a half gale from ENE).

'Two or three layers of swiftly racing clouds could frequently be seen through the prevailing mist. It blew with terrific force.'

40 luggers sought shelter in the creek, bringing tidings of a heavy ground swell from the northwest, which in turn, signaled the presence of a significant cyclonic event out at sea.

'Vessels engaged in the pearl-shell fisheries, on the northwestern coast of Australia, run on shore in any available creek, on indications of the approach of a cyclone.' 

Alleged:

"I don't like the glass," was Captain Allen's remark,

But Captain Allen was compelled to depart at 10.20 am, due to pressure of maintaining a tide-dependent schedule; mail contract; cargo delivery and passenger demands. 

Koombana departed Port Hedland carrying:

- 260 tons cargo
- 480 tons coal
- 60 tons stores

= 800 tons

(plus an undisclosed tonnage of residual fresh water in her tanks)

157 souls on board.

260 tons of cargo was only 14.4 % of maximum load - 1800 tons (not 4000 tons as is commonly reported). 85 tons for Broome were stowed in 'tween decks 1 and 2, higher up in hull, raising centre of gravity, reducing stability and 175 tons for Derby in hold 2, low down, improving stability. These units of cargo were loaded and secured at Fremantle for the voyage.

I do not believe there was a significant component of livestock on the cattle deck due to steaming up the coast. Livestock was destined for the markets at Fremantle and required fresh water and fodder at sea. Moreover, Bullarra had been reintroduced on the run that month to bring livestock back from Port Hedland, relieving Koombana of this function. 

Drawing 16 ft. aft and 11 ft. forward (rather than the claimed 19 ft. aft 12 ft. forward), all ballast tanks empty, Koombana's propeller  was not fully submerged (decreased thrust and manoeuvrability) and she displayed 'an ugly list to port' confirming her very light lading and ballast status. 

The depth over the bar was 19 ft. at the time which means Koombana would not have cleared without incident, given the Inquiry's quoted 19 ft. aft figure. Furthermore, a dead weight of 800 tons (cargo in forward holds; empty after-peak and no 6 tank) could not have accounted for a draught 1.75 ft. short of maximum loading, aft.

Why was Koombana in such light, top heavy condition? 

She needed to be!

Captain Allen:

"I might bump that outer bar going out on a sea like this."

"My passengers think they will get to Broome to-morrow (Thursday)," he remarked; "but they will be lucky if they get there by Saturday. I am going to put right out to sea, and as might bump the bar going out I will leave my ballast tanks until I get outside and fill them out there."

It was both risky and laborious to fill tanks at sea, particularly in a heavy ground swell and gale, and it would have taken more than 3 hours (in ideal conditions) to achieve this task and which delayed progress significantly. Two sets of eye witnesses referred to Koombana being in sight for only 2 hours. The tanks were unlikely to have been successfully pressed up during this time frame, which in turn would have created a free surface effect, enhancing the list; reducing what GM there was and impairing heeling recovery.

Why did Captain Allen not take the necessary time to fill all tanks? Quite simply, the Light at Bedout was not functioning and he had to clear the dangerous reef adjacent to the island before dark (6.38 p.m.). 

Captain Allen anticipated and was ultimately confronted by a stiff head wind (gale from NE; ENE) slowing progress. Distance to Broome = 265 n miles. An average of 10 knots (14 knot steamer) or less would miss spring tide access to Broome the following day. Marked pitching would have exposed the propeller periodically, reducing thrust.

Bullarra:

'When we came on deck for the mid-day meal, the Bullara and the Koombana were stern on to each other, and the distance apart being about five miles.'

Koombana had not made much progress by noon due to the attempt to fill tanks.

With a gale and a significant wind catchment factor in the form of towering superstructure and funnel enhancing the existing list, Koombana was presented with challenges from the start. I believe Captain Allen made his decision to pursue the standard course rounding the northern aspect of Bedout Island based on the fact that he could see evidence of the cyclone to the westward on the horizon; not north or northeastward in which directions he was headed; confirmed by a witness account aboard Bullarra heading southwest:

"I noticed away on the starboard bow and 
just above the horizon, dense mass of 
inky black clouds and from descriptions 
I'd had from old pearlers, I was convinced 
we were in for it."

Therefore, I believe Koombana only ever skirted the outer margin of the cyclone which targeted Balla Balla from the north-northwest, having curved round. The official meteorology report presented at the Inquiry claimed a cyclone diameter of 90 miles, which could not have broached Koombana's intended steamer track. This is further substantiated by evidence of minimal storm impact at Port Hedland and Bedout Island (lighthouse glass not encrusted and no signs of a disturbance).

"Scarcely any damage
was caused by the 
hurricane at Port Hedland."

However, this said, Koombana in her unstable, top heavy condition would have been subjected to broad, deep sea swells; strong winds shifting through NE ---> N ----> NW, further unsettling stability and hindering heeling recovery. Listing heavily, she would have been vulnerable to water ingress via the cattle loading doors or the ventilation ports on the main deck, which would further have contributed to the free surface effect, worsening the list and further diminishing heeling recovery.

Cargo might also have shifted, contributing to the deteriorating situation.

In an attempt to correct the dangerous list, Captain Allen might have elected to pump out one of the longitudinal ballast tank sections on the side of the list, with the resultant catastrophic effect as illustrated by the S.S. Vestris disaster (November, 1928). Captain Carey pumped out tanks in the hope of decreasing a progressive list. Paradoxically, in part due to residual free water in tanks, the list increased dramatically.

Ultimately, when Koombana went over I believe she did so suddenly and violently, not allowing souls successful escape in lifeboats and if a few did, they did not survive to tell the tale.

No cargo or bodies were ever recovered suggesting that she turned turtle trapping both people and cargo within. Absence of bodies and cargo goes against the theory that Koombana was battered to pieces by the cyclone. Damaged pieces of wreckage, ultimately released from the wreck, could have been caused by superstructure striking the seabed or movement of the wreck itself along the seabed. It would also explain why wreckage was only discovered 12 to 14 days after the disaster - rising from the seabed - rather than due to immediate hurricane-force damage.

Insufficient time was allowed for wireless operator Harry Lyon to send out a distress signal via Marconi wireless, if indeed it was still operational. It is important to note that there was a backup wireless unit independent of the ship's electrical supply, but with only a 100 mile range. 

I believe that the oil patch, discovered by Captain Upjohn of the Bullarra and represented on the image below, is Koombana's final resting place. An example of oil marking the spot was used to locate the Clan Ranald wreck, January 1909: 

"direct me to the spot where the wreck was sunk, 
which he said he knew exactly, having seen 
streams of oil rising from her."

This is further borne out by the distribution of the bulk of wreckage, drifting with the predominantly (south)westward trending current which predominates after alongshore cyclones in the Pilbara. This position is within the outer steamer track for Broome. 

Koombana was not off course.


Inquiry (courtesy Koombana Days online site):



"- It was in latitude 19.11 and 119.25 E.

What distance would that be off Bedout Island?

- About 27 or 28 miles - I cannot say which. 

Did you take any samples of this oily substance?

- Yes, two or three dozen bottles.

What depth was there at this place?

30 or 35 fathoms. (55 m - 64 m)

Did you see any trace of the vessel at that depth? There would be nothing to indicate that the Koombana or any other vessel would be there?

- It was getting dark and it looked like the outline of a vessel." 


After further analysis, 27.5 miles northeast of Bedout Island coincides with 19 15 51 S, 119 26 48 E (30 fathoms), a position 20 miles from additional wreckage to the west and which, in turn, lay 20 miles to the north of Bedout Island - as referenced by Captain Upjohn.

Although not represented on the graphic below, Captain Upjohn referred to:

They had taken the specimens (of
oily water) produced in Court at 
this spot. An awning spar and one 
of the planks exhibited in Court 
had also been discovered in close
proximity. Other articles were picked
up about 20 miles from that spot.
(marked 2 and 3 on graphic).




1. Stateroom door; painting stage; small pieces of board. SS Gorgon
2. Motor launch starboard bow plank (with insignia). SS Bullarra
3. Small wreckage; (life) boat tanks; lifebelts; panel from saloon / smoke room ceiling. SS Bullarra
(see: https://koombanarevisited.blogspot.com/2019/11/sufficient-warning.html)
4. Bottom board from (life) boat; white painted board. Lugger McLennan. 
5. (life) boat mast and small wreckage (rising from bottom). SS Una
6. Miscellaneous wreckage. SS Una   
7. Miscellaneous wreckage. SS Una. 
8. Cabin paneling. Lugger Mina.
9. Smoking room cushion; cabin door. SS Minderoo.
10. Straw envelopes (Leech's fortune). SS Minderoo and SS Gorgon.
(see:  https://koombanarevisited.blogspot.com/2019/11/sufficient-warning.html)
11. Bottom boards (lifeboat); drawer; small teak panel. SS Minderoo.



Official cyclone, 90 miles in diameter, as per Meteorological Office. Note that the cyclone approached the coast from the direction of S.S. Moira's position, 8 a.m..
Courtesy Google Earth.





courtesy Trove





this map which appeared in a period newspaper report gives an idea of the route taken by Koombana, 'shaping a course' around the northern aspect of Bedout Island.
(the 'last seen here' annotation is unconfirmed, but could substantiate Koombana being on course this far)



presumed track Port Hedland to Broome


The residents of Hedland had a final say on the matter:

The ship's propeller was showing
when anchored at the jetty, and
raced out of the water as she sailed
over the rolling seas at the harbor's
entrance ; the boat also rolled heavily
when the wind struck her on the
starboard side—so much so that
several who were watching her exclaimed.
"She'll be over directly " !



And a final, cryptic comment:

Sunday Times, Perth, 31 March, 1912.


Therefore, as she has not been found along the 
Ninety-Mile Beach or in La Grange Bay, we are
led to the terrible alternative that she was engulfed 
somewhere north-east of Bedout Island, where 
she was last spoken.



courtesy ANU archives




In this image of Koombana apparently steaming, the main livestock loading door is open, one assumes due to the excessive heat and humidity along the Nor'West coast. Of concern would have been a potential portal of water ingress during heavy seas and rolling.


courtesy Trove extracts; Australia Pilot, 1920.

For those with an in depth interest in this subject should obtain Annie Boyd's outstanding Koombana Days.