SIGNALS OF DISTRESS.

RMS Koombana - courtesy Wikipedia

The Evening Star, 27 March, 1912.

THE MISSING KOOMBANA

NO TIDINGS YET RECEIVED

VESSEL SHOWING DISTRESS SIGNALS OFF PORT HEDLAND

AN OPTIMISTIC OPINION BY A CAPTAIN

VESSEL FLYING DISTRESS SIGNALS

OUT FROM PORT HEDLAND.

BELIEVED TO BE THE BULLARA.

FREMANTLE, 2 o'clock.

Information came to the Adelaide

Steamship Company's office this morning

which may throw some light on

the disappearance of the Koombana.

Broome cables that communication

has at last been established by a line-

man with a field instrument with a

point three miles on the Broome side

of Port Hedland.

This man reports that there is a

steamer outside with funnel gone and

no decking, flying signals of distress. 

While there is "a great deal of hope

conveyed by this message, it must "not

be mistaken to mean that the vessel in

question is the Koombana." 

It may, in all probability, be the

Bullarra. The latter boat left Cossack

last night for Hedland, and should

have arrived there this morning. During

her encounter "with the willy willy

before leaving Cossack she lost her

funnel.

It is hard, however, to understand

why she is flying signals of distress,

as she could not have had any severe

weather. 

Between Cossack and Hedland

after the cyclone.

Perhaps the lineman is mistaken,

and the signals are not those of distress,

but are merely an attempt by

the Bullarra to find out by means of

flags what is the condition of Port

Hedland harbor.

Port Hedland and Bedout Island were 

not damaged by the Balla Balla Cyclone.

It is generally considered in shipping

circles here that the vessel outside

is not the Koombana, but the Bullarra,

as it is not considered likely that the

Koombana's decking would be carried away.

Interesting final comment referring perhaps to a 'newer' ship. Also, like Yongala, Kombana's funnel was built into the superstructure. If anything it might have served as a lever 'pulling' the ship over in her final death throes.

"A feature is her double-cased funnel with a bonnet cap."

"Her funnel was peculiar

having been built into the ship,

it would have stood alone even if

the guides had been blown away."

SS Bullarra - courtesy Ships Nostalgia

courtesy Trove.

THE 'OLD SEA-DOGS' KNEW.

Truth, Perth, 30 March 1912.

"For Those in Peril."

"Koombana's Chances Considered."

Though the young men of the

"West" and "News" valiantly strive

to instill a spirit of hope in the public

mind regarding the Koombana, most of

those who have relatives and friends

aboard are prepared for the worst news

that can come to hand. The best

that the sea-tanned mariners of our water

front can offer in the way of consolation

is that Skipper Allen would at the first hint 

of trouble, get as much seaway as he could, 

and that the heavy send of the seas may have 

stripped the Koombana of her propellers.

Koombana had one propeller.

But even the most optimistic of the

experts shakes his head doubtfully

when he is reminded that the Koombana

is a twin-screw boat, and, therefore,

to some extent, would be able, to

dodge the dreaded "racing' caused by

mountainous waves.

And precisely why Captain Allen predicted

that he would not get to Broome by the following

day: - racing = reduced thrust = reduced overall speed.

There is also a disposition on the part of doleful

Jeremiahs to confute the published assertions

that the Koombana behaves magnificently in

bad weather. These pessimists declare that the

missing steamer is exceptionally "tender"-

and - that her designers and builders in

the effort to supply a comfortable ship for a

tropical climate gave her too much top hamper

("wind surface" is what the old sea-dogs call it.)

and too little grip or draught.

And with that the threat of losing steering control in 

heavy seas and broaching.

But these speculations can be discussed and

decided only by those who have knowledge

of marine architecture and of the calculable 

forces of wind and wave. The ships that

the Adelaide S.S. Co has provided for

the Australian coastal trade have been

mostly noted for their weatherly qualities,

and they have always been splendidly

officered. The outlook is not a

pleasant one; admittedly there is little

to build on when a well-found steamer

is seven days overdue on a 24 hour trip. 

And the Koombana's chances

are lessened by the fact of the Bullarra

(a grand sea boat) getting such

a buffeting; for the younger ship was

not the equal of the slow, old tub in

tropical disturbances. There is widespread

sympathy with those whose

hearts are wrung by anxiety for near

and dear ones on the missing steamer,

and it is only simple truth to say that

even if the worst anticipations are fulfilled,

the public will be greatly shocked.

SERVICE IN DECLINE.

Western Mail, 26 August, 1911

PORT HEDLAND CARGOES.

SHIPPING COMPANIES DENOUNCED.

Port Hedland. Aug. 21.

A special meeting of the Progress Association 

was held to-day for the purpose of

protesting against the continued shutting

out of cargo by south-bound boats. Shipments 

of tin ore, skins, etc., were missed by the last 

four boats, greatly inconveniencing the consignees.

The shipping companies were strongly denounced, 

and letters were prepared for forwarding to the 

Fremantle Chamber of Commerce and to Derby,

Broome, Cossack, and Roebourne, asking for 

assistance, if necessary, to induce opposition 

steamers to trade along the coast, it being contended

that this was the only remedy. Port Hedland firms 

were prepared to give opposition boats a 12 months' 

guarantee, and were also asking the squatters to 

guarantee to ship their wool by the same vessels.

There is no denying that pressures placed on the Adelaide Steamship Co were great despite the magnificent Koombana. Complaints were vociferous and loaded with threats. But the root cause of Port Hedland frustration must surely have lain at their own doorstep in the form of a tide and bar which only allowed a very narrow margin of entry and exit. Did the future bode progress and brighter days? What was to become the face of 'opposition'? 

A State Steamer Service which according to the following report was not what demanding  'consignees' had envisaged; AND let us be under no illusions the degree of pressure Captain Allen was placed under to keep his schedule and depart that late summer's day into unknown storm conditions at sea.

Perth, 1 November, 1913.

STATE STEAMERS.

- Cool Storage Cargo.

How Butter and Bunnies Reached

Broome.

"When the ill-fated-Koombana was on

this coast, the people were well treated

in regard to the storage of vegetables,

fruit etc., the only trouble being that 

enough storage space could not be 

obtained. This is of such vital importance

to everyone in the Nor'West, that a howl

of delight went up when the State

Government announced that the 

Western Australia (steamer) would have

capacity for 100 tons, (Koombana 800

tons) cool storage - eh what! It has never 

realised a tenth of the hopes, and this 

week most of the 'cool storage cargo' for 

Broome had to be destroyed, being unfit 

for human consumption. Many butter 

cases were half empty, giving the 

impression they were stored on the boilers 

and not near the ice chamber door. The 

ship landed a deal of her own stores for 

storage in Broome; maggoty rabbits, etc. 

which to avoid prosecution by the Health

Authority, had to be incinerated in the

local boiler furnace. It is feared, in some

quarters, that the ship has a fair chance

of returning from Darwin with fever on

board. 

The Nor'West Echo...

Port Hedland - courtesy Port Hedland NOW

courtesy Trove

'RACE FOR THE BAR'.

 

SS Charon - courtesy Flotilla Australia.

Northern Times, Saturday 19 August, 1911.

PORT HEDLAND.

From Balla Balla the Charon steamed 

to Port Hedland, and, after passing 

through a fleet of 25 pearling luggers 

at work, anchored outside the

bar at 7 o'clock Friday night. By

10.30 the tide was favorable and the

vessel was ably steered across the bar

and through the harbor's tortuous

channel, mooring alongside the jetty

in excellent time and fashion. I made

a visit to the office of the "Hedland

Advocate" close on midnight, and had

a chat with its breezy sponsor. In the 

early morning we saw the Paroo at 

anchor outside the bar. The tide,

which has a range of about 26 feet,

had receded, and the narrow channel

within the harbor was clearly visible.

Mangroves give friendly covering to

mudbanks where the waters have gone

out, except on the town side, The port

is a natural harbour, at least 12 days in

the month negotiable by large steamers

between various hours. 

The Paroo and the Charon hasten loading

and together race for the bar, crossing it in 

four and a half fathoms (26 ft.) at about 

2 o'clock. Then we part company and 

proceed on opposite courses.

SS Paroo - courtesy Flotilla Australia.

courtesy Trove

1930's DESCRIPTION OF CYCLONES.

 

Cyclone furies

of the North-West Seas

By ERNESTINE HILL

none Help

For the ninth time, the town

of Onslow, alias Beadon,

North-West Australia, has

been severely damaged in a

willie-willie, its homes levelled

to the ground, and one of the

finest steel and concrete jetties 

of the coast wrecked.

Weary of the attentions of a too

frequent and unwelcome visitor of

late years, Onslow has taken to

changing its name and tucking it

self away into unexpected corners

of the sandhills — but the willie

willies still find it.

Even so, the appalling record of this

town runs only third to those of 

Cossack and Roebourne, which have 

completely disappeared 15 and 11 times

respectively.

Perhaps there is no other coast

on earth which bears such a tragic

history of these summer cyclones

as that of North-West Australia,

between Carnarvon and Wyndham.

Pioneers of this part of the world

have built again and again on the

slopes of Vesuvius.

The most notorious danger-zone lies

between Exmouth Gulf and the Eighty

Mile Beach. Onslow, Roebourne, Cossack, 

Port Sampson, Port Hedland, Balla-balla, 

Broome, Derby, and the now defunct 

settlements of Fortescue and Condon, each 

in its turn has blown away, some of them 

twice in one year or three years in succession.

Tales Of Horror

DROWNED in willie-willie's run

countless pages of old fatality records 

in Roebourne's police station,

while the stumps of costly jetties, the

twisted lines and bridges of many a

railway, and hundreds of wrecked

schooners and luggers, rotted in the

mangroves, tell tales of unimaginable

horror in the stormy past.

To track back the history of the

north-west cyclones is to stand aghast

at the concentrated malevolence of

Nature upon these isolated Australian

coasts, and to marvel at the magnificent

courage of men.

Up here, where the seasons are up

side down, after a winter of unbroken

blue and gold, Christmas comes in with

squalls of lightning, wind and rain,

known in the north as 'cock-eyed

Bobs,' or. more briefly and familiarly,

cock-eye.'

Purely local, these storms that leave

the barometer without a quiver and

usually work out their fury in a 15

miles radius, are baby hurricanes in

mad onslaught that might veer any way

at any moment, and invariably pass

over within an hour. To the number of

three and four a night, to little ships

at sea they are a circumstance to be

reckoned with, with a few wrecks and

fatalities to their credit, but seen from

a safe anchorage a magnificent natural

phenomenon.

'Cock-Eye'

OUT of the splendor of tropic evening, 

the serenity of a glorious sun

set, a wicked little snake-tongue of

lightning suddenly flashes along the

base of the clouds, lighting the hills

and gullies of dream into a vivid 

perspective, and accentuating the green

and gold of the sand dunes, the jagged

teeth of the reefs, in stereoscopic light.

Swiftly following comes a whip

crack of thunder. Mustered under

the lash of the wind, the clouds rise

to a towering Matterhorn that, like

a living and menacing Djinn, comes

striding across the sea.

The world goes grey before it. Near

shores fade deep into rainy mist, though

all the skies beyond still hold the frail

tints of evening light. The storm

swings on, perhaps to sheer at a sharp

right angle and disappear with a low

grumble of thunder in the distance, per

haps to sweep on and engulf us.

The lightening has now become vicious,

writing its menace in Morse upon a 

narrowing horizon. The wind increases to

full gale, howling and whining in the

rigging at 80 miles an hour, and then

the cloud-burst breaks in a pandemonium 

that would strike terror to the

hearts of those unacquainted with its

whim and its brevity.

Savage Seas

SEAS that mirrored the sunset ten

minutes ago bare their teeth on the

rocks in savage fury and flying spray.

Waters of the shallowest lagoons be

come a boiling cauldron. Ships drag

madly at their anchor-chains, and it

is necessary to set the engines full speed

ahead to keep them at their bearings.

Then comes a dense wall of rain, rain in

inches, thick as a felt mat blotting out

earth and sky— and even as it falls the

gale sweeps onward in the twinkling of

an eye and the seas abate. The moon

comes out from behind the clouds, a

smiling traitress, and the tranquility

of a clear bright night is unbroken, with

nothing to tell the story of sudden passion 

save the faint, fresh smell of rain.

Of a far graver nature — a word of

dread not lightly to be spoken —

is the willie-willie, that rages for

many hours, with death and 

destruction in its wake.

From November, to April in these seas

the cyclones can be expected at any

moment it is then that the pearling

fleets huddle close inshore for safety,

and that coastal captains watch the

barometer hourly with an anxious eye,

for the willie-willie as a rule gives notice

of its approach with a rapidly falling

glass and a seething leaden sky.

Clock-Circle Of Disaster

ORIGINATING far out to sea, or

swinging down from the north for

1,500 miles in a steady, relentless on

-slaught, with a wind force up to 120

miles an hour, they generally strike the

coast in a great clockwise sweep from

100 to150 miles in diameter, circle the

compass in a mad fury for 24 hours,

and then make off across another couple

of thousand miles of desert, east of the

goldfields, to the Southern Ocean.

Sometimes twice in a few months they

have carried away the whole of the

pearling fleet and left a trail of ruined

homesteads and settlements.

From north-east, east, south-east,

due south, comes the full blast of the

gale. Ships caught in the swing of the

wind have sometimes been anchored

five miles off shore in the evening, 90

miles away at dawn, and back almost

to their anchorages at nightfall, while

other ships have lain for a period of

dead calm in the centre of the vortex

before the storm came buffeting back

from the south-west with redoubled

fury

Losing Fight

CLINGING to the spinifex through

hours of darkness, watching his

home and his windmills and live

stock, and perhaps his family, blown off

helter-skelter before his eyes, his bullock

teams buried in the sand, and his

schooners swept from their moorings

and dashed on the beaches, the pioneer

of the north-west has defied these oft

recurrent calamities for 70 years— in

vain

It was on Christmas Day, 1869, that

the first pearlers and pastoralists of

Roebourne and Cossack — unwitting 

settlers from England and the south

learned a lesson in a bolt from the blue.

In the course of that day the barometer

fell from 29.94 to 28.22. At the end

of it the pearling fleet had foundered,

with many lives lost, and both Roe-

bourne and Cossack were levelled to 

the ground.. Of the homeless and destitute

it took three months to carry the disastrous 

tidings to Perth.

Map showing the danger zone oj the North-West Coast.Help

In 1875 the pearling fleet was again

demolished in Exmouth Gulf, with 59

lives lost. Two years later six over

seas barques, with £20,000 worth of

guano, and six men, went down at the

Lacepede Islands, and in 1880 a tidal

wave 25 ft. high obliterated Onslow.

Big Deathroll

IN 1881, Cossack was wiped out again,

its ships driven miles inshore and

12,000 sheep drowned at the Ashburton.

In 1887, occurred one of the most terrible 

disasters of the coast, when on

the Eighty Mile Beach five barques,

four schooners, 36 white men, and

nearly 200 colored men (sic) went to their

doom in a night. 

In 1892, 15 luggers and 40 men were lost 

at Onslow, and in 1894 Cossack and Roebourne

— at that time large and prosperous towns

with 2,000 and 4,000 people respectively

—were left with scarcely a dwelling

standing.

Year after year the same dread

story was told, a monotony of tragedy.

Sometimes calling with the regularity

of a coastal steamer at every port of

the coast from Darwin down, some

times wreaking havoc within a radius

of 100 miles, the willie-willies have

tossed away like scraps of paper 

hundreds of thousands of pounds worth 

of jetties and tramways and ships and

station-homesteads and streets and

stock, as many as 15,000 sheep and

2,000 cattle having been blown to sea

or buried in the sand at one blow.

Barques and brigantines and schooners 

and lighters and luggers and loaded 

steamers have been scattered

for miles, left high and dry in the clay

pans, or ridiculously perched upon the

crests of hills and islands. 

Eleven times in three decades the towns of

Roebourne and Cossack completely

disappeared, with their connecting

railway— and still they stand, a few

gaunt stone buildings held to terra

firma with iron cables.

Terrific Cyclone

IT was as late in the year as April 27

1908, that there occurred one of the

most dreadful sea disasters in Austra

lian pearling history. Out on the fishing

grounds of Lagrange Bay, reassured

by the lateness of the season and the

tranquility of the weather, the whole

of the Broome fleet was caught in a

tremendous cyclone which gave little

warning of its swift approach, and 

annihilated five large schooners, with 

between 30 and 40 luggers, in a few brief

hours, with a death-roll that totalled

nearly 300 men. There is a monument

in Broome graveyard perpetuating the

memory of 140 of the Japanese alone

who perished in that blow.

Swimming for many miles and many

hours through turbulent seas, the 

survivors reached the beach at Lagrange,

to find it a shambles. Dead bodies lay

everywhere, awash in the creeks or

caught in the mangroves. Somebody

kicked a diver's box and found 200

sovereigns.

For three days the shipwrecked,

white and colored (sic), naked and 

shivering, groped their way through 

the blinding, windblown sand to 

Fraser Downs station, and it was 

weeks before the fate of all their comrades 

could be ascertained.

Dead sharks and turtle and dugong

littered the beach feet deep for miles,

the whole country was swept bare of its

foliage, and the coastline unrecogni

sable. Sheep and cattle had been blown

Into the fences and strangled, or swept

in mobs to sea, and there is still to be

found there the wreckage of a score of

ships. In December of the same year,

another cyclone hit the same area,

and at Wallal resulted in a damage of

£20,000 with 50 lives lost.

Fiendish Regularity

IN 1909, Onslow was again destroyed.

In 1910, Broome was blown to pieces

like a pack of cards, with 40 lives lost

at sea. In 1911, Onslow and Cossack

blew away together, and in March.

1912, the coastal steamer Koombana,

with 135 people on board, put out from

Hedland and from human ken.

The years between have seen the

willie-willies approaching with a fiendish

regularity to ruin and wrack the coast,

the most notable being that of 1926,

when the Port Sampson jetty, which

had cost the Western Australian 

Government many thousands of pounds,

was blown out of existence, and the

settlement there abandoned.

From 1875 to 1925 the valiant little

town of Onslow — or Beadon — has lived

nine lives, on an unsheltered patch of

coast so often reaping the full retribution 

of wind and sea. Now it has suffered 

again. The willie-willies have won.

Cyclone Olwyn, courtesy NASA
more extensive than Balla Balla, but similarly approaching the coast from the 'north'.

courtesy Trove.