The Good Samaritan has had a deservedly good image over the last
two millennia. An equally well-deserved degree of obloquy has been heaped on
two others who had previously seen the unfortunate traveller who had fallen
among thieves but who “passed by on the other
side” without helping. On countless occasions at sea captains and crews
have played the Good Samaritan role, risking their ships and their lives to
help others in distress and it has been a matter of pride among seafarers of
all nations that they should do so.
It is however a chilling though that there have been
occasions when ships have “passed on the other
side” and have ignored requests for assistance. Reduction of visibility due
to bad weather may play a role in such cases and one would always like to give the
benefit of the doubt as regards innocence. The uneasy feeling does remain that at
many times – especially in pre-radio days – distress appeals went unanswered
and the subsequent disaster ensured that no survivors remained to appeal for
justice.
The reality of shipwreck - the classic painting by the Russian artist Ivan Aivazofski (1817-1900) |
This line of thought has been prompted by a short newspaper article
from 1876 which sets out bare facts only and on which it is hard to come to a
verdict one way or the other. It relates to an incident on the Kish Bank, a
shallow sand-bank in the Irish Sea, some dozen miles due east of the port of
Dublin. It was known for centuries as a hazard to shipping and a lightship was
first moored on it in 1811. Lightships continued to provide warning until 1966
when a lighthouse of innovative design was installed. This telescopic structure
was built of concrete close to Dublin and was towed to the bank. After sinking in
position the telescopic sections were raised, giving a final height of
100-feet. It is clearly visible from shore in clear weather.
The horror of a grounded ship being pounded to destruction (Shown here is the Rothesay Castle in 1831 - the Vespa's fate would have been similar) |
In January 1876 a relatively new (built 1865) merchant
steamer, the Vesper, ran aground on the
Kish Bank. What followed was succinctly summed up in an article that appeared the
following day in the Dublin daily newspaper “Freeman’s
Journal”. It is quoted in its
totality below:
Quote
Yesterday a screw steamer bound from Glasgow to Dunkirk ran
on the Kish sandbank. The steamer was the Vesper,
60.horse power, laden with a cargo of 620 tons of coal and sugar, in command of
Captain Tolson with a crew of 18 hands and belonged to Messrs. Huntley Berner
and Co, of Glasgow.
The ship left Glasgow the previous night at 10 o'clock. The
captain was on watch at the time the vessel struck. She began to fill and all
efforts to get her off having failed, he ordered signals of distress to be
made. A large fire was lit on the deck with paraffin oil and blue lights were
burned from the masthead. The vessel was not observed by any of the life-boats
crews or coastguard along the shore, although the weather was perfectly clear.
A heavy sea was running at the time and as the ship began to
settle down the sea washed over her decks. In three hours the water rushing in
forced up the hatchways upon which the crew had to take to the boats. One of
them was stove in and the port boat was washed off the ship. The only remaining
one to which the crew had to take was the starboard.
The crew say that before leaving a steamer passed in sight
shortly before seven o'clock without paying any attention to their helpless
condition and soon after another steamer and a fishing smack passed few miles
off and left them in the same plight. The crew and captain numbering fourteen
men left the ship about eight o'clock in the boat and steered for land which
was about twelve miles off and they arrived in Killiney Bay about eleven o'clock
when they were assisted by some men, and were provided with railway tickets for
Dublin by the Station Master and afterwards put up at the Sailors Home.
Unquote
One is struck by the cold precision of the report – the impression
that there was nothing particularly remarkable about the event. Considering the
number of shipwrecks that occurred in British coastal waters in this period
this is perhaps not surprising. A single instance suffices – in a major storm
in February 1871 no less than 28 ships, many of them collier brigs, were
wrecked off the North East Coast of England.
The Vespa’s destruction
was obviously a terrifying event and her crew were lucky to have got off her alive.
One does however wonder whether the ship was ever in fact seen by the vessels
in the vicinity or whether these latter did indeed “pass on the other side”. Had they done so the action might not
have been prompted by callousness alone, but by a realisation that bringing in another
vessel over the bank would have resulted in her destruction also. Today, in the
early 21st. Century, one would expect that such an incident would have
been the subject of detailed investigation. This may have happened – if so
details are hard to come by.
And as regards the vessels that passed by on the other side?
At this remove it is perhaps best to avoid judgement and give the benefit of the
doubt. There was however one undoubted Good Samaritan – that role was played the
Station Master who provided the train tickets!
Truly harrowing experiences. Often when I'm sailing my father's boat with him, we wonder how scary it must have been in the age before modern communication and engines.
ReplyDeleteTruly harrowing experiences. Often when I'm sailing my father's boat with him, we wonder how scary it must have been in the age before modern communication and engines.
ReplyDeleteHello Mark - I agree fully. Until I experienced a Force 12 storm I could not have imagined what was involved. The idea that one could face such hazards on a regular basis, without any ability to send out an SOS, is terrifying. And yet ships sailed the oceans of teh world, not just with mariners, but laden with entire families as well. The hazards were taken for granted. One wonders what aspects of our lives today future generations will see as equally frightening.
DeleteRegards: Antoine
Thank you for this. I was attracted to your site by the Dawlish connection, being a Jane Austen fan. 'It seemed rather surprising to him that anyone could live in Devonshire without living near Dawlish.' Sense and Sensibility.
ReplyDeleteHello Maire: We know that Nicholas Dawlish relaxes when possible with a Trollope but my researches into his life have not as yet indicated whether he was a fan of Jane Austen. Perhaps there's at least one Austen in that box of second-hand books that his wife Florence sent on board HMS Leonidas to help while away his (very few) leisure hours. You'll probably know from the relevant page on the website that a family legend refers to an ancestor hailing from Devonshire Dawlish - hence the name (http://dawlishchronicles.com/dawlish).
DeleteBest Wishes and I'm glad you're enjoying the Dawlish connection! Antoine