THE LOSS OF THE AVALANCHE.
coroner’s inquest. (Condensed from the Home News, Sept. 20.) , • The coroner’s inquest was opened at the ,C.°ve Inn, Portland, on September 12, before Mr. R. N. Howard, coroner. Captain Scriven was the foreman. The Court having been opened and the jury sworn, the six bodies were viewed. They were lying in a loft adjoining the Cove Inn, side by side, and stripped. There were bruises about the bodies of several of the men, caused, doubtless, by the washing of the corpses on the beach. ’ The Coroner said he never remembered a more important inquiry in the neighborhood since the loss of the unfortunate ship_ Royal Adelaide. He reminded the jury of their duty in an inquest such as the present, and having remarked on the sadness of the catastrophe, commenced to take evidence, of which that of the third mate appears the most important. It is as follows : John Sherrington said : I was third officer on board the iron ship Avalanche, of Southampton, of 1151 tons register. We sailed on September 28 from the East India Docks with a crew of thirty-four all told, and about fifty passengers, bound for Wellington, New Zealand, Captain E. Williams in command. Everything went all right till we got to Slieerness the next morning, about Il.'SO a.m., when we ran into a barque. The barque had her jibboom carried away, and put back to Gravesend to rectify damage, and we anchored and repaired our damage, which was very slight, only one or two stays and a portion of the head gear having been carried away. We started away some time in the afternoon, and everything went right until last evening, nine o’clock, when I was in my bunk, I heard the man on the look-out report a light, but I do not remember in what direction he said it was. We had a Channel pilot on board, named Broadrick, I think, who was on deck at the time. I heard the pilot sing out, “ Hard up,” and immediately after that heard two voices sing out, “ Port your helm,” the pilot’s being one of them. Could not distinguish the other —it might have been the captain’s, or that of the second mate ; they were both on deck. I then turned out of my bunk, having my trousers on. The first mate’s berth was next to mine, and I heard the second mate come forward and say to him, “ Mr. Bowling, Mr. Bowling, come on deck, come on deck .; I think there will be another smash.” While he was saying this, I passed him, and the first thing I saw was the jibboom of the other ship strike against the mainmast, snapping the jibboom in two. I rushed past the mainmast, and just as I was going to the quarter hatchway something caught me and pushed me head-foremost down the hatchway on top of some passengers who were crowded underneath. I then stumbled across the other hatch which leads to the lower hold, and my arm fell across a hole which we had for leading a pipe down to the fresh-water tanks. I then felt a gust of air coming up ; I rushed up, got hold of some of the passengers, and told them to go on deck if they wished to save their lives. Just as I was going up the gangway ladder the other ship smashed into us again. I rushed up on to the poop, followed by four or five passengers, and saw our captain standing by the break of the poop. I caught hold of him, said the ship was sinking, and told him to catch hold of some of the loose gear of the strange ship that was hanging as she came down upon us. At the same time I caught hold of a chain hanging loose from the Forest, and when she rose again she carried me with her. I scrambled up on to the forecastle head, and then looked down again to see it I could see anything of my captain. 1 did not ; but saw another person with a blue guernsey catching hold of some of the gear, I then rushed across to the port side of the forecastle head, and saw the Avalanche going down stern first. I threw all the ropes I could find on the forecastle down over the port side, so that if any of the people were in the water they could get on deck. I then went down on to the main deck, and saw the crew of the Forest rushing about in all directions. Went aft and saw an elderly gentleman on the poop, and asked him if he was the pilot. He said “ No.” I then asked him if he was captain, and he gave me no answer. Just at that moment I saw our second mate Mr. Tuberville, who came up to me and said, “ Is that you, Jack?” I replied, “Is that you, Alec ? ” and he caught hold of me by the hand and said, “ Come on ; we’ll see if we can get the boats over.” I then rushed aft to the wheel and. found it hard a-starboard, and I immediately put it hard a-port, and left it like that. I then went to the main deck, and heard some one sing out, “ Square the foreyards.” I sung out to hold on everything. Just then the mate of the ship came along, and said, “ Gome along, we 11 get the boats over.” Our second mate and I then got on the top of the house, where were two boats, and a lot of fellows followed us up. The boats were not lashed. We got hold of them and turned them over, and then got them on the main deck, and then overboard. The second mate got in on the starboard side, and I got into the port one first, and put the plug in. The mate of the Forest then came down and sung out for some buckets. I kept the boat off the ship’s side, while the mate looked for the plug-hole. I then sung out and asked if there were any more hands coming down. They threw some lines over, and four or five scrambled into the boat. The mate then sung out for the captain, who looked over the side and asked him what he wanted. The mate then told him to come down into the boat, and he said he would. One or two of the crew came down, and then the captain. We cut the stern line and painter, and shoved off from the ship. Just before we shoved off one of the men in our boat sung out, “ There’s a man on the anchor singing out for help.” We tried to save him ; and got as near as we could, telling him to jump overboard, but failed to rescue him. By the sound of the voice I thought it was the carpenter of the Avalanche, whose body I have identified in the loft. I believe he is a native of Scotland. When we got about 100 yards astern of the ship we saw the other boat coming round the head of her, and that was the last we saw of her. The black boat now on the beach is the boat we turned over last night. We kept the boat’s head to the sea all night, and at daybreak kept her away a bit, till we were picked up by the Portland boats coming to our rescue, I did not see the Forest go down, but watched her for about two hours. The last time I saw her she appeared to be lying over. Only myself and two able seamen are those saved belonging to the Avalanche. I only saw two boats launched. The captain said there were three. As soon as we got clear of the ship we saw those remaining on hoard burning two blue lights and a rocket. When the collision occurred the first time I did not feel any shook, but simply heard a crash of the the jibboom being carried away. She struck us four times, once amidships, the second time abaft the main rigging, the third time the fore part of the mizzen rigging, and lastly on the quarter, when she went down. The Avalanche must have been stove in the first time. Knew she was sinking when I felt the air coming up. We were going free, and the Forest ought to have luffed off, and had she done so she would have freed us. We got over the port side into the boat, where the red light was, so did also the captain. The port side was the lee side of the Forest. I noticed the . red light of the Forest burning brightly and the green light rather dimly. That might have been through the collision. The lights were in their proper place. Our vessel was in watertight compartments, and to the beat of my knowledge they were closed. The ship was not deeply laden. Joined the Avalanche three days before she left London. Had known Captain Williams for some years, but had not sailed with him before. He was about thirty-threo years of age, I should think. He took command of the Avalanche after her first voyage. This was her fourth voyage. When we damaged the barque off Sheerness we were in tow of a steam-tug, and it was the tug’s fault. “Hard up” was meant for our vessel, and “ Hard-a-port ” for the Forest. William Maeeier said : I was an A.B. on board the Forest. I joined her in London. I have been to see the dead bodies the jury have viewed, and can recognise five of them. I was on deck at the time of the collision. I
~heard„the'.niah on. the look-out.sing out there, was a light on the port how. The captain told the man at the helm to port the helm haid-a-larboard; He did so, and this; kept the ship before the wind. Before wo had time to go under the stern of the other vessel she came right across our bows, and our ship struck her amidships. Our lights were- burning and the watch was on deck. Before the collision the captain lit up a torch and showed light enough. We got in a boat on the port side, and the captain got in the same side. By a Juror; I heard the'eaptaiu sing out,' “But your helm hard up.” Just before we left the water was up to our mid-beams. The Coroner stated his intention of adjourning the inquiry until the 20th September, In the meantime other bodies would probably be washed ashore, and it was advisable, therefore, to let a reasonable time elapse before the reopening. Such, in brief, is the history of the disaster, Of course, an official practical inquiry will be held into the circumstances connected with the collision ; and no doubt it will be clearly established which of the vessels, if either, was to blame. We do not wish to prejudge the result of that investigation. As far as the Avalanche is concerned, she was in charge of a pilot, and her master is ipso facto freed from all responsibility for any fault in the navigation of his ship. But whether or not blame is to be attached to any one on board, it is impossible to overlook the fact that if there had been no fault in the adjustment or equipment of either ship the collision itself might have been averted, or failing that, the rapid foundering of the Avalanche with nearly 100 persons on board would have been in all probability averted. The Avalanche was an iron ship of the highest class. She was built only three years ago, and there is scarcely a better vessel of her size afloat. She was a regular trader between this country and New Zealand, and was fully manned, her crew being composed of 31—officers, able and ordinary seamen, and five apprentices. She had been laden with the greatest care, and had hitherto never met with any accident of a serious character. She was fitted however with only one bulkhead, and it was on this account that she sank so quickly. If iron ships of her size were fitted with four or five bulkheads they would be divided substantially into watertight compartments, and a blow received amidships and making a large hole in the side would cause the water to rush in and fill the central hold. But there the mischief would probably end, and fore and aft of the hold in which the damage had been received the holds would be free from water—at any rate sufficiently long to enable the boats to be launched and all hands to get into them, or the ship to be steered into port. It is true that the Avalanche was struck both aft and between the main and mizzen masts, but had she been fitted with a bulkhead amidships and another further forward the rush of water could not have penetrated at once to the forepart of the vessel. As a consequence the whole would have kept afloat for another hour or two, during which time the whole of the crew and passengers might have taken to the boats, and perhaps have reached land in safety. The most serious question to be considered is whether the collision itself is attributable not to unskilful navigation or carelessness, but to any defect in the equipment of either vessel. The Forest was a large ship of 1488 tons gross register. She was built at Nova Scotia of soft wood in 1873, and was a fairly good ship of her class. Her crew, however, consisted of twenty-one men only, and these twenty-one men were made up of Swedes, Dutchmen, Germans,- Belgians, Americans, Finlanders, and Englishmen. In a crew of so composite a character, representing seven different nationalities, constant confusion may be anticipated from the difficulty the men will sometimes experience in understanding each other. It is essential to the well-being of a crew that they should be on intimate terms. It is otherwise impossible to keepalive the feeling of reliance and dependanoe on one another which does so much to prevent the outbreak of squabbles and disagreements among the, members of a crew. But men who cannot speak the same language with facility can hardly be expected to entertain for each other feelings of cordial friendship. Great difficulty must be experienced in inducing them to pull together, and iu emergencies, when the prompt carrying out of commands is absolutely necessaryj much valuable time’might be lost in getting the men to understand their respective duties. But even if the crew of the Forest had been composed of men all of one nationality, it is questionable whether, with such a limited number of hands, the ship could at all times have been properly ,navigated, i
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New Zealand Times, Volume XXXII, Issue 5187, 6 November 1877, Page 3
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2,496THE LOSS OF THE AVALANCHE. New Zealand Times, Volume XXXII, Issue 5187, 6 November 1877, Page 3
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