"WAITING UP ALL NIGHT FOR THIS BLANKY HOOKER TO COME IN."

The following entertaining article captures the Koombana era to perfection, halcyon days before the disaster, and when it was clearly a privilege to travel by this majestic flagship.

The Sun, Kalgoorlie, 26 June, 1910.

A TRIP FROM FREMANTLE TO BROOME. .

AMONG THE SQUATTERS AND PEARLERS.

By "VAGRANT"

THE Koombana is a smooth-running

ship. She is far and away the finest 

vessel in the 'Nor'-West trade, plying 

regularly between Fremantle and 

Wyndham, and capable of a speed

of 16 knots. Captain Rees, who has

had command since the boat was put in

to the West Australian service, enjoys an

immense popularity among the travelling

public. Previously the Koombana skipper 

was commodore of the big pearling fleet 

operating between Broome and Sharks 

Bay, so there is nobody better acquainted 

with the Nor-West coast than Captain 

Johnny Rees.

The crowd moving north was a mixed

sort, composed of squatters going home

to their runs, drummers on tour, pearlers 

returning to hunt again for the precious 

gems of the sea, and cattle-buyers

out to purchase stock for the markets.

There were also life assurance agents and

persons employed in the Customs 

Department. A callow youth was going to

Montebello Island to experiment in pearl-

breeding on a theory invented by some

old sea captain, Captain Irvine, Chief

Harbor Master, mingled with the throng,

and kept his weather-eye open for 

possible defects in the contour of the 

coastline.

A dreamy chap accompanying Colonial

Secretary Connolly was mistaken by one

Nor-Wester for the new lighthouse-keeper 

going to take charge of a desolate rock 

away from Broome:

"Poor cove, he'll have a lonely time of it."

murmured the Nor'-Wester  compassionately.

His disgust was deep on learning afterwards 

that the dreamy chap was no lighthouse-

keeper but merely the orthodox " West " 

reporter whom Dr. Hackett lets off the 

chain to accompany the touring Ministers 

on their travels.

Conspicuous among the squatter section

of the community aboard was Alex Edgar, 

part owner of De Grey Station, whose 

western border line starts some 60 miles 

from Port Hedland. The Edgars came nearly 

40 years ago from Victoria to develop the 

great pastoral resources of the Nor'-West, 

and with them arrived the Grants, one of 

whom is still a partner in the De Grey 

squattage and the holder of a fine run near 

Geraldton. Squatter Edgar is a fine type of 

the pioneer pastoralist— frank, open, and 

intrepid. His stories of the early struggles 

of the squatters in their work of opening 

up and turning to useful account the then 

almost unknown lands of the North 

Western Australia are full of charm and 

interest. The country swarmed with hostile 

blacks; dreadful droughts laid the skeleton 

herds of the squatters low. De Grey station 

today comprising about 650,000 acres is one

of the best in the State. Roaming over

its plains are 55,000 sheep and some 

15,000 cattle, supplying, some of the primest 

beef in the markets. Last season's wool-clip 

from De Grey amounted to just on 1100 bales, 

which at £12 a bale (to strike an average) 

mounts up to a solid sum. Recent heavy rains 

in the Nor'-West assure an increased output

for the coming season.

There is prosperity generally among the

North-West squatters. One time and only

a few years ago, the immense territory

held by the Bush's on the Gascoyne -it

aggregates about three million acres —

could have been had for the payment of

the mortgages upon it. But times have

changed. This year's wool-clip reached

3000 bales, and probably it would require 

the better part of a million sterling to buy 

out the Bush's to-day. Squatter Bush enjoys 

his wealth in England.

Shark's Bay, our first port of call,

provides an open anchorage, exposed to

gale and wind. and dangerous, low-lying

reefs impede the path of the navigator.

On Dirk Hartog Island and the mainland

however, are prosperous sheep stations.

The community consists of about a hundred 

souls (vide the local policeman, who

came aboard with a Japanese prisoner 

destined for the Carnarvon gaol). Besides

sheep-farming, pearling is also a considerable 

industry at Shark's Bay. A gruesome odor 

floating over the waters came from a pogey-

pot into which the fish cut away from the 

shell raised by the pearlers is thrown and 

boiled, the minute pearls characteristic of 

the bay sinking to the bottom during the 

stewing. The pogey is then emptied on the 

beach where it purifies, and throws off a 

stench, hateful and far-reaching. 

Subsequently it is disintegrated and examined 

for its gems by the pearlers, who seem to be 

doing very well, they lease banks from the 

Government up to 500 acres, and gather in 

shell all the year round, living contentedly 

with their wives and families in modest 

dwellings overlooking the bay. A quaint pub 

and a few quaint out buildings form 

the quaintest township in the Commonwealth. 

The chief joy of the inhabitants is a casual visit 

to the neighboring port of Carnarvon.

Steering steadily over the bounding

wave, the Koombana eventually arrived

at Carnarvon, and tied itself skilfully to

a long jetty extending a mile into the

sea (recently damaged by cyclone Seroja). 

Here the Gascoyne, having its source, some 

150 miles inland, discharges. During the 

passage of the tram to the township one 

noticed gangs of black prisoners at work 

on the roads near by, vigilantly guarded by 

officials of the gaol.

Carnarvon is a bright, refreshing town

giving unmistakable evidence of good

times. The stations back of it stretching 

away along the banks of the Gascoyne, 

are disgorging the results of beneficial

seasons. Piles of wool drawn by

bullocks, are coming in from the 

verdant pastures of the squatters; fat

stock is arriving almost daily for the

metropolis.  The inhabitant has the

flavour of cattle and sheep and hides

about him and his talk is of fencing,

windmills and things that belong to 

the great pastoral industry. It is the 

typical station town showing the saddle-

horse tied up to the pub post and the 

bush turn-out, which brought the whole

family in from some outlying homestead, 

waiting in front of the store. The ship's 

stay was too brief to get at the true 

inwardness of the Carnarvon resident in 

his lair.

Rounding the Nor'-West Cape approaching 

Onslow the old Mildura wrecked some few 

years ago, stood out boldly on the low-lying 

rocks bounding the coast. The vessel went 

ashore in a fog while conveying cattle to 

Fremantle, sustaining however, very little 

damage, but all attempts to refloat her have 

so far failed.

The harbor at Onslow is a hopeless one,

boats having to anchor a mile out in

the open roadstead. It costs you six

shillings return by boat from the 

anchorage to the jetty, which covers a 

distance of 400ft., and then you are toted

per horse-tram some miles to the township 

at a further cost of three shillings.

Onslow is a desolate, forlorn spot— the

last place God made, to quote a resident

who happened along with the parson and

other people prominent in the community. 

Dr. Keenan (erstwhile of Sandstone) 

officiates as R.M.O. and Resident

Magistrate at Onslow. There is plenty of

settlement behind the town along the

Ashburton, which, in wet season gathers 

great force and width for hundreds of

miles. In drought time, however, its

course is marked mostly by diminishing

lagoons. 

Arriving at and departing from Point

Sampson (the port of Cossack) at night,

there was no chance of observing any

thing except that a horse-tram (a pie stall

contrivance of limited accommodation)

carried passengers to the town of 

Roebourne some miles inland. The 

Koombana discharged a locomotive to

supersede the ancient horse, which had 

ambled to and fro since the inception 

of the service many, many years back.

"He's a marvel, that there old hoss"

said a Cossack citizen in tones of

reverence.

" He never jibbed once ter my 

knowledge, and I bin 'ere close on twenty

year.'' The Cossack man further signified

his approval by stroking the aged 

quadruped's mane, and calling him 

"good old Ginger." A query as to whether 

anybody lived at Cossack aroused the 

Cossack inhabitant's indignation. 

"Anybody live ere !" he exclaimed resentfully.

"My oath, there is ! Why, the place is

chockful o' people, but you don't expect

'em to be waiting up all night for this

blanky hooker to come in, do yer ?" Another 

Cossack inhabitant of  lean and hairy

exterior joined him as he bawled out from

the altitude of the jetty (we were on a receding 

tide), and they both glared ferociously into the

depths of the Koombana. By and by the twain

having feasted their eyes on the spectacle

of the unloading steamer, melted away

into the darkness of their revered village. 

Standing out to sea, we wended

our watery way to Port Hedland. 

At sunrise the white roofs of Port Hedland 

gleamed far up in the broken coastline. 

The houses are dumped on a sand-patch in 

perilous proximity to the open ocean, right 

at the mercy of the big waves that prophets 

say will some day lap the township into a 

watery grave.

Viewed from outside the inlet, on the

bank of which it stands, bedraggled and

forlorn, the sport of gale and wind, the

future of Hedland seems, indeed, precarious. 

Provision is made for the terrific blows 

that periodically sweep over the Nor'-West 

coast in the form of wire-ropes flung over 

the buildings and binding them to the sand. 

" But wait till a tidal wave comes !" 

murmured a croaker, " and then there will 

be no more Hedland !" Still there is comfort

in the reflection that the town has reached a 

mature age and yet the demolishing

waters have not engulfed it, nor will the

patriotic residents countenance the 

possibility of a catastrophe.

The Charon has just departed as we

came in, 

SS Charon - courtesy State Library of Western Australia.

but the Paroo lay at anchor

near the jetty. 

SS Paroo - courtesy Flotilla Australia

Port Hedland jetty - courtesy Weston Langford Railway photography.

Volumes of black smoke

arising from her funnel, the spasmodic

churning of her screw, the bustle on deck,

the casting off of lines, and the howling

of somebody aboard to the Koombana,

RMS Koombana - courtesy Trove

which was lying along on the rising

tide, to keep off and give them sea-room

indicated that she also was preparing to

get out.

" Ain't room for two cats to fight."

growled a weather-beaten salt. 

"They'll jamb or knock the jetty over as 

sure as Kerrist !" 

Crash !

The Paroo, squeezing through

without an inch to spare, fouled the

lamp-post at the end of the jetty and

bore it down with a grinding noise.

Fierce language floated towards the 

disturbing Koombana, which slipped 

serenely into the vacant berth after a 

vain attempt to get the vessel's nose to 

seaward.

An incident of the anchorage was the

hasty landing of an excise official, who

immediately beat his way un to the town-

ship at top-speed, followed precipitately

by a Hedland publican, to whom had

been whispered the information that 

"the bloke wot tests the grog was aboard."

It was an exciting struggle as the pair

booted it for the pub, the excise man's

coat-tails fluttering in the breeze as he

tore over the sand of Port -Hedland. The

officer won by a narrow margin and

managed to secure enough below-par

snake-juice to warrant a prosecution.

Valuable 'servant of the State', that excise

man ! '

" Port Hedland, sir, is a place of vast

potentialities," said a local politician,

who stood on the wharf, and discussed

the outlook. "We have broad stretches

of pastoral country out back; we have

mines at Marble Bar. Our resources are

illimitable !" he concluded, looking 

thirstily towards the nearest pub.

Touching on the pastoral industry,

there is abundant evidence of great pastoral 

wealth behind Hedland, where the

finest wool in the country— and grown

on spinifex too  — is being raised. The

De Grey Station, already alluded to, is

considered one of the finest squattages in

the West.

Long have the mines at Marble Bar

languished for want of a railway to convey 

machinery and fuel to the field, but

prosperity should come, provided the

shows are as good as their sponsors declare, 

when the line now going through is 

completed.

A run of 35 miles along the railway

with the Ministerial party gave some

idea of the land back of Port Hedland.

Great, treeless plains extend to the

horizon, but the herbage was abundant

and green from the recent rains. The feed

is mostly spinifex, not of the kind, how-

over, you see on the desert lands of the

eastern goldfields, but soft, bunchy 

fodder, upon which sheep thrive 

wonderfully. 

It is the railway that causes apprehension. 

The flood-waters have shown, in

the washaways, and the subsidences of

the line into the saturated soil under the

weight of trains, that the construction

needs to be far more substantial than it

is that, in fact, it will have to be solidly 

ballasted from end to end. Crossing

one creek we swished through a sheet of

water covering the wheels of the rolling

stock. In other places, as the procession

moved slowly on, the sinking ground was

perceptible, in the swaying motion of the

moving train. The line is out a distance

of 54 miles, but the contractors do not

deem it safe beyond the point which

terminated Colonial Secretary Connolly's

tour of inspection. The Hedland to

Marble Bar railway— a cheap line, 

figuring out at about £1600 a mile— is to

cover a distance of 115 miles. Probably

some £50,000 more than the estimate

will be required to make it a sound 

construction.

Besides its other resources, Port Hedland 

derives a big income from the pearlers, 

whose luggers are regularly moving

in and out of the harbour. Pearling has

proved so lucrative a business that almost 

everybody you meet has an idea of 

launching into the industry, as being

a swifter method of piling up wealth

than waiting about town for things to

turn up. 

Editor Barker, of Port Hedland " Advocate " 

and sometime of Leonora, is one whom 

ambition prompts to go raising shell. 

"The "Advocate" is all very well but there 

is a darned sight more money in battling 

for pearls than advertisements, and being 

called a rag after all your efforts to 

ventilate the grievances of the townspeople.

Propelling a newspaper in the Nor'West is a

cold, cheerless job, full of ingratitude."

At noon we moved away from Hedland

over the last lap of the journey to 

mysterious Broome. We raced the Charon 

at night until she faded astern, in the mist

and darkness, leaving us alone on the

highway (steamer track) that precedes 

the entrance to Roebuck Bay . There were 

luggers coming out to the pearling beds to work

—frail, cockleshell things beside the towering 

Koombana— casual schooners beating up 

against the breeze blowing southwards. Ahead 

was Broome, its white roofs showing out amidst 

a wealth of green foliage fringing the long, 

sweeping, beach from which the tide was fast 

flowing, leaving the lighter craft high and dry

within the bay.

courtesy Trove.

CAPTAIN ALLEN EXONERATED.

The Geraldton Express, 2 March, 1910. 

A COMPLAINT,

CONCERNING THE KOOMBANA'S

SAILING.

(To the Editor.)

I suppose the agents of the Koombana

are forced, by their contract, to

run their vessel on time, but even this

restriction does not justify the extra

ordinary state of affairs which prevailed 

this morning. The vessel was first 

announced to arrive here on Saturday. 

That arrangement was cancelled. Next 

there was a notice put up yesterday on 

the Post Office board

(surely an official announcement) stating 

that the Koombana would arrive

at 1 o'clock in the afternoon and sail

an hour later. Next we were told

that she could not get here till 2 this

morning. What then happened will

scarcely be credited.  About half-a-dozen 

ladies, several children, and a number 

of men, had to camp all night on

the jetty. Some of the men lent the

ladies their rugs to cover them, and

others made shift with tarpaulins. Several 

swagmen had taken up their

quarters in the shelter shed earlier in

the evening, therefore the ladies and

children had to camp in the open air.

The Koombana did not arrive till half

past six this morning. These are

surely shocking arrangements. Could

intending passengers not have been 

notified the evening before that the

Koombana would not sail till morning. 

Or if that could not be done,

why do the agents, as is done else

where, not take the addresses of all

who have booked passages, and send

them word as soon as the vessel is

sighted. Supporting last night had

been wet or cold what an experience it

would have proved for those women

and children. — Yours, etc.,

RELATIVE.

Geraldton, Feb. 28th, 1910

(Mr. Faulkner, manager at Gerald-

ton for the Adelaide Steamship Company, 

on being seen by a representative of this 

paper, said that according to the A.S.S. Co's. 

contract with the Government,

the Koombana should have arrived at 

Fremantle on Sunday evening. As it had not 

even reached Geraldton on that evening, it 

would be seen that the vessel was considerably 

behind time. The conveyance of mails was the 

steamer's most important duty. Passengers and 

cargo had to give way to the necessity of 

delivering the mails on time. He did not

mean by that that passengers should

not look for consideration. He simply meant 

that, as dispatch was the essence of the contract, 

the vessel could not, if she arrived during the

night, be detained till the morning

for the convenience of passengers. Personally 

he tried his best to meet the convenience of 

passengers. Regarding the notices of sailing it 

was true that the Koombana was first announced 

to sail on Saturday. That notice was altered in 

Friday night's "Express," when Sunday afternoon 

was given as the time. On Saturday a wire from

Captain Rees intimated that, provided he could get 

in and out of Shark's Bay without difficulty, he 

would arrive at Geraldton on Sunday afternoon. 

He failed to do so, consequently he again wired 

that he would reach Geraldton at about 2 a.m. on 

Monday, weather permitting. On the run down

however, he encountered a strong headwind, while 

the thick haze also retarded progress. There is no 

need for passengers to camp on the jetty as

there is good accommodation in Geraldton at the 

hotels and boardinghouses, who make it their 

business to keep in touch with steamers' movements 

and call their lodgers in time to catch them.

Let there never be a moment's doubt in our minds about the pressure Captain Allen was under to depart Port Hedland that fateful Wednesday morning. 

As we well know, steamers the size of Koombana could end up 'neaped' for up to a week at Port Hedland if they missed the spring tide. In addition, Captain Rees' difficulties getting in and out of Shark Bay highlighted the navigational challenges of Nor'West coastal ports and the knock-on delays incurred. 

Irrespective of publicized and vehement passenger complaints, the officious tone of the Adelaide Steamship Company's response, cargo delivery obligations, R.M.S. (Royal Mail Steamship) Koombana was subsidised and obligated to deliver mails on time - £5 fined for every hour delayed.  

To say that Captain Allen was reckless to depart Port Hedland after consultation with Captain Upjohn 20 March, is both disingenuous and unwarranted from the vantage point of comfortable historical-review armchairs.

Final word:

"If Captain Allen had remained at anchor at 

Port Hedland and the Koombana had been 

driven ashore there and wrecked, the 

probabilities are that he would have lost his 

certificate, having acted against the Board of 

Trade regulations or instructions, which, I believe, 

require a captain under certain circumstances

(threat of a storm) to make with all speed for the 

open sea."

Tom Allen.

A LAYMAN'S VIEW.

 The West Australian, 4 June, 1912.

The barometer is the seaman's

guide as to the state of the weather. All 

we have is that during the day of March 

20 last the wind was blowing a fresh 

breeze from the northeast, and the weather 

was a bit overcast and dirty, but Captain 

Upjohn and Captain Allen in conversation 

decided there was nothing in it and neither 

of them expected to encounter such a blow 

as is described in the s.s. Bullarra's log book 

as a howling hurricane, a hurricane which 

apparently has totally engulfed the 

s.s. Koombana and which, according to Captain 

Upjohn's evidence, the s.s. Bullarra only 

survived through a miracle.

From past experience I can say that the 

barometer must have indicated the approach

of this cyclone, and that being so, I consider 

it was wrong to put to sea under these 

circumstances. If the captain was prepared

to face the storm I think it would have been

simple humanity to give the passengers

warning of the danger and the opportunity

of landing at Port Hedland. I noticed in

one of the reports from Port Hedland it

said: "Captain Allen seemed very anxious.."

He said that when he crossed the outer

bank he would fill the ballast tanks. I do

not think he ever got the chance to do that.

The next point is, we are told that her

"stability was shown to be entirely 

satisfactory." under ordinary circumstances 

I readily agree with that, but from past 

experiences it must be remembered that 

abnormal conditions of cyclones may he 

expected at any time between December and

April on the Nor'-West coast. What is 

perfectly safe under normal conditions becomes

absolutely unsafe when a vessel has to 

encounter the full force of a terrific hurricane,

with the top hamper of some of our modern

steamers. In a sailing vessel one has a

chance even if light, they can run before

the wind under bare poles, and be safe. Not

so with the new steamers. Deck cabins can

not be reefed. If they take the full force

of the wind on their broadsides it is all over

in a few minutes. Their only chance is to

run before the gale, but we find that the

Koombana when last seen was steaming

right into the north-east gale.

Referring again to the report from Port

Hedland, of April 3, "The Koombana left

the port at half-past 10 o'clock on March 20,

with propeller beating out of the water.

When passing the entrance to the harbour

she rolled deeply. That item taken in

conjunction with the statement of the Court.

"She sailed from Port Hedland on March

20, at about 10.20 o'clock a.m., drawing 19ft.

aft and about 12ft. forward in excellent trim,

with her propeller well submerged," does not

agree, but probably what the report from

Port Hedland intended to convey is that the

propeller was occasionally out of water. That 

might be accounted for as the steamer was 

evidently light, and would pitch, as she

was drawing only 12ft. forward and 19ft.

aft. (incorrect) 

If with that draught she had 

50ft of top hamper, in other words, a wall 

resistance to the wind, roughly about 300ft. 

long and 50ft. deep, with only an average 

hold on the water of, say, 15ft. 6in., I do not 

see how she could possibly stand up against 

the terrific force of a wind blowing at front

75 to 100 miles an hour, if it caught her on

her beam. In such circumstances a vessel

like that would simply roll over, as we see

toy boats roll over, and sink. I am very

much afraid that is what really happened to

the Koombana.

A very dear old friend of mine, Mr. Fred.

W. B. Clinch, who leaves a wife and six

young children, and who was lost in this

vessel, told his brother Alfred, in Fremantle.

prior to the sailing of the Koombana, that

he did not like the vessel he thought there

was too much top hamper, too much 

resistance in the event of meeting a willy-willy.

Poor fellow, it, is very sad that he, and so

many others, should be taken thus suddenly

from their friends and relations. It is evident 

poor Fred Clinch's fears have been justified.

The past cannot be rectified, but I think

we should profit by the sad experience of the

loss of the Koombana for the future, and I

give the points of my view of the matter

with all due deference:--(1) That vessels for

the Nor'-West with much top hamper are

unfitted for the work; (2) that closer attention 

is required of master mariners to the warnings 

by the barometer: (3) that with a low barometer, 

especially between December and April, a 

steamer should not attempt to face a gale or 

hurricane on the North West coast; (4) it is 

better to remain in port, anchored and steaming 

up to the anchor than to face the gale; (5) that a 

light vessel has no chance in a willy-willy except 

she can run before the wind: a well-ballasted

vessel stands the best chance of surviving

in a hurricane.-Yours, etc.,

Guildford, May 18. P. A. GUGERI.

Apart from the fact that Koombana was drawing 16 ft. aft., 11 ft. forward, in exceptionally light condition, with the propeller clearly beating out of the water (16.5 ft.) and no proof whatsoever that she was caught in the centre of the cyclone, this commentary was insightful. 

Ballasting was essential in steamers such as Koombana, and the writer referred to the unlikelihood of the ballast tanks having been (adequately) filled ----> disaster.

Late March is the time of year when cyclones are anticipated along the Nor'West coast, and the writer raised the important point that steamers with significant top hampers (i.e. inherently top heavy) were not appropriate for such a coast and in particular during late summer. One could extend the argument to the simple fact that a large steamer such as Koombana, struggling to clear the outer bar under the best of spring tide circumstances, was definitely not appropriate for servicing Port Hedland - period! 

courtesy Trove.