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White Wings Vol I. Fifty Years Of Sail In The New Zealand Trade, 1850 TO 1900

Loss Of The Killochan

Loss Of The Killochan.

Ship with Run of Bad Luck—Sunk in English Channel.

Of course no one to-day believes that such a thing as ill-luck can dog the wake of any particular vessel, but in the old sailing ship days, when people were more credulous, and there was more mystery about the sea, such a thing as an "unlucky ship" was firmly believed in by sailors. The history of a ship like the Killochan would certainly not tend to shake the belief of an old shell-back that some ships were doomed to be unlucky. the Killochan was an iron ship of 1300 tons, built in 1874 by McMillan, of Dumbarton, and owned by J. Kerr and Co., of Greenock. She was specially strongly constructed, Lloyd's requirements being exceeded, and though this did not eventually save her it probably did bring her through an experience that would have sent most craft to the bottom. In 1888 the Killochan was chartered by the Shaw, Savill Co. for a voyage to Auckland with a full general cargo, including 500 tons of iron pipes. She sailed from the Thames on April 8, and crossed the Equator a month later.

Favourable weather was experienced until round the Cape, the meridian of which was crossed on May 29, but on June 6 her troubles began with a heavy squall from the north-west, which hit her a nasty smack. Although she was a very good sea boat, the Killochan was decidedly stiff—that is to say, she did not "give" with any facility when under pressure from the wind. The consequence was that when this sudden and exceptionally fierce squall struck her something had to go, and the massive fore-yard, a hollow iron spar, a foot in diameter at the middle, and weighing about four tons, snapped close to the mast. One end of the heavy yard came crashing down on deck, but the other half was hung up to the mast, some of the lashings evidently holding, and the end of this latter half, hanging down, was lashed to the rail, where it remainedpage 206 until the ship reached port. When the foreyard went, two foretopsails, foretopmast staystail, the inner jib, and the lower mizzen topsail went also.

A Heap of Wreckage.

This would have handicapped the ship sufficiently in itself, but worse was to follow. After a few days fine weather there arose on June 11 a tremendous sea with scarcely any wind, and this caused the Killochan to labour heavily. At about eight a.m. a fearful lurch snapped the maintopmast at the cap, and the mizzen topgallantmast also broke off short, bringing down a mass of masts, yards, sails and other gear. Some of it fell on the deck, the chief officer (Mr. Smith) and several of the crew narrowly escaping being crushed under it, and the rest fell over the side where the heavy spars were banging into the sides of the ship and threatening every minute to knock a hole in her plates.

Saddest of all was the fact that only a few minutes before the squall struck the ship one of the apprentices, a lad named Lachlan McLean, had gone aloft to attend to some job, and he was carried overboard in the wreckage. Probably he was killed before he reached the water, but in any case it was impossible to launch a boat in the sea that was then running. But the tragedy was momentarily forgotten in the strenuous work that was imperative if the ship and the lives of all on board were to be saved. A strange accompaniment of the disaster, or rather immediately after it, was a remarkable fall of snow. It lasted six hours and at times it was impossible to see the length of the ship. Captain Manson, who commanded the Killochan on this memorable trip, said he had never previously seen anything like it in that part of the world, though he had been knocking about the Cape off and on for thirty years.

Subsequently the wind freshened and though the ship had been left with only shreds of sails, these had to be hung on to, in the hope of steadying her in the stupendous sea that was running. In spite of the fact that she had uncommonly high bulwarks the Killochan would roll her rail under, ship water, then roll back to the other side and repeat the same experience. And some solid seas broke aboard with deafening thunder, two of them smashing a couple of the ship's boats on the skids. For two days after the disastrous squall struck the Killochan the crew had an awful time clearing the wreckage and getting up new gear and devising sails for such stumps and yards as the storm had left them. And all that strenuous work had to be carried out with the ship rolling drunkenly in the heavy sea.

Puts in at Melbourne.

It was no wonder that Captain Manson decided that it would be hopeless trying to reach New Zealand with the ship in that crippled state and he bore up for Melbourne as being the moat accessible. In spite of heavy weather which was met with off the Leeuwin, the ship being hove-to for nearly three days, she reached Port Phillip Heads on July 9th, only 86 days from the Lizard, which was a fair average voyage, and when one remembers her crippled condition it was quite good time. She covered 3000 miles after meeting with the disaster, and on several days she averaged ten knots. The crew was a British one, five being coloured men (British West Indians), and Captain Manson said they all behaved splendidly during the terrible experience.

The job of repairing the damage was both long and costly. The sum of £4000 was spent before she was all "a-taunto" aloft again, and it was not until August 24 that she resumed her interrupted voyage to Auckland, where she arrived on September 5, just 150 days from the time she left London.

After discharging at Auckland the ship was sent to Lyttelton where she loaded grain and wool for London, and while bound up the English Channel on the last stages, after a ninety-one day passage to Queenstown where she called for orders, she came to an untimely end. Off Dungeness she was run into at night by the steamer Nereid, which was outward bound, and both vessels sank. About twenty-four persons were drowned and of that number 17 belonged to the Killochan. Captain Manson, who had been in the employ of the owners of the Killochan for twenty-one years, was among the drowned, and an Auckland boy, Harold Bell, whose people lived at Ponsonby, was also lost.