Captained by Archibald McIntyre, the Nashwauk had an uneventful 89-day voyage to reach Gulf St Vincent. Having cleared the 'dreaded' Troubridge Shoal at the bottom of the Yorke Peninsula, all seemed in order for arrival at Adelaide on Sunday 13 May. However at 5 o'clock that morning, the ship ran aground just off the coast of today's Moana (about 50km south of Port Adelaide). Investigations, not to mention rumours and speculation, led to colourful tales involving smuggling, drunkenness and misbehaviour, but what was the real truth?
Daybreak, 13 May. The grounded vessel lay in two fathoms of water close beneath the clay and limestone cliffs. Its hull was shattered and taking water rapidly. The closest resident, a Mr Andrew Harriott, sent for help. The local postmaster arrived, and urged the captain to land the mail and passengers as quickly as possible due to deteriorating weather. This commenced at 1pm, the 'terrified passengers struggled for places' in the vessel's five lifeboats. Once aboard they were ferried closer to shore, the sailors then carrying many of the girls and children on their backs through the waves to safety. From the beach the rescued passengers were taken by dray three miles to the township of Noarlunga, where food and bedding were arranged at a local pub, the Horseshoe Inn. 'Bread was baked, 8 or 10 sheep were killed, and tea was prepared by bucketsful' (South Australian Register, 15 May 1855). Settler's homes and nearby empty cottages were used for extra accommodation.
Captain McIntyre and his crew initially remained on the beach; the captain eventually taken in by Andrew Harriott at his home, Dalkeith. Dalkeith was a two-storey mansion with a twelve foot wall and a commanding view of the coast, and local legend suggested it was used as a headquarters for smuggling. Complicit ships would supposedly be signalled in close to shore by a light from the home. Had this light been mistakenly used to signal to the Nashwaulk, and had the captain mistaken it for the navigation light at Semaphore?
Meanwhile, the behaviour of the immigrants that evening in Noarlunga was reported in 'sensational terms' by the South Australian Register of 15 May 1855: 'Many of the girls behaved in a most discreditable manner, showing plainly that they were either unfit to have been sent as emigrants, or that they had been sadly corrupted on the voyage.' However the rival newspaper Adelaide Times thought that, 'excepting the parting greetings of the male and female emigrants', this behaviour 'could only have existed in the imagination of the informant'. Rather, the 'greatest order and decorum were observed by all parties' (Adelaide Times, 17 May 1855).
News reached Adelaide of the wreck on Monday 14 May and the Police Commissioner with four mounted troopers were sent to protect property and maintain order. The Government schooner Yatala (with the Harbour Master aboard) and mail steamer Melbourne were despatched, and the passengers were returned to the beach to board the latter ship bound for Adelaide. However the sea was so rough that boarding was impossible, so the steamer moved two and a half miles north to the more sheltered Onkaparinga River mouth at Port Noarlunga. The passengers made their way on foot along the cliffs in order to make another attempt, but by this time it was getting dark, many were frightened, and only 70 had the courage to board. While the steamer was making its way to Adelaide, one woman, leaning against the bulwark and 'slumbering from fatigue', fell into the sea when the bulwark gave way; it was dark and the ship was at full speed, but quick response from the crew saw a boat put off and the woman was rescued after surviving five minutes in the water.
Upon reaching Port Adelaide the passengers from the Melbourne were lodged in the new South Australian company store, a room '100 feet long by 40' with cooking and bedding facilities. Much of their luggage had been left behind in the wreck, but apart from this, they appeared to be 'as comfortably provided for as under ordinary circumstances'. The remainder of the Nashwauk's passengers made their way back to Noarlunga to be put up again at the hotel there; some accepted positions in the district, others were conveyed overland in drays to Adelaide the following day, where they were housed in the German hospital (from Adelaide Hannah would have sought employment as a domestic servant, and within a year or so we know she was working in that capacity on a western Victorian station where she would meet Antony Gasperino).
Meanwhile, efforts were being made to retrieve as much cargo as possible from the wreck of the Nashwauk, including the passengers' baggage, which would be sent on by drays or the Yatala to be reunited with its owners. Much could not be saved however, including the vessel's chief cargo, iron planned for use in the construction of the 'Port and Adelaide Railway'. By Wednesday 16 May, the rough weather had resulted in debris being strewn for over a mile along the beach. On 29 May a sale took place there, of the 'Hull and Material of the Nashwauk with such portion of the cargo as may be saved from the wreck' (Adelaide Times, 29 May 1855). This included masts, spars, passengers fittings, sails, anchors, kedges, boats, cabin furniture, chronometers and cabin stores. The shortage of materials in the colony meant that much of these wooden items might command a good price. The fact that Andrew Harriott bought most, if not all, of what was on offer, only fuelled rumours that he was part of a smuggling ring.
Following the sale Captain McIntyre was taken to Adelaide and put up in the Golden Fleece, a hotel owned by Harriott. By this stage he had developed what was described as a 'low fever' but four days later, on Sunday 3 June, McIntyre was dead. His passing was put down to exposure and 'mental anxiety' from the events of the shipwreck. He was only 37, and left behind a wife and four children in Glasgow. The untimely death only added to the intrigue.
On Monday 28 May, the day before the cargo sale, the first of two inquiries into the disaster had begun. The Trinity Board, set up to 'regulate port and maritime activities', held a public hearing, but Captain McIntyre was unable to attend on account of his illness. Crew members were interrogated and those who were on watch in the early hours of the fateful morning witnessed seeing 'heavy black cloud'. This was now supposed to have been land, but the night had been hazy with little moonlight. All questioned said that McIntyre was sober at the time, the Chief Mate saying that McIntyre was a temperate man, whom he had never seen 'excited by drink'.
The second inquiry, that of the Immigration Board, was held on 2 June into the 'treatment of the people by the Surgeon and the Master of the Ship'. This inquiry raised reports of drunkenness aboard the Nashwauk the night before the wreck, specifically in the case of the Surgeon. However upon evidence from others on board these accusations were dismissed. With Captain McIntyre ill, both inquiries were adjourned, and upon his death both were forced to wind up with little resolution. The Trinity Board did publish a verdict that they were 'unanimously of the opinion that if the Captain had not neglected to carry out the Ship's course and distance on the chart, at any period during the night previous to the wreck, the accident would not have occurred.'
Anchor of the Nashwauk and plaque, Moana, South Australia
(photos from my trip to SA, January 2017)
For all the conspiracy theories that followed the events of 13 May, there is scant evidence to suggest anything suspicious behind the wreck of the Nashwauk. It is probable that, at the end of a long voyage at sea, and having cleared Troubridge Shoal, the captain and crew 'relaxed their vigilance' a little more than they should have, leading to the wreck. Perhaps it was just an unlucky ship: in its short history, the Nashwauk had run ashore once, been dismasted once, and caught on fire four times (Adelaide Times, 31 May 1855)! But its wreck was a story which dominated chatter amongst the young colony's residents at the time, and the legends surrounding it lasted several years more. Today though, you would be hard-pressed to find many South Australians who have ever heard of the Nashwauk.
In February 1982, the Nashwauk was declared an historic shipwreck, one of the first ten under a newly created Act. The anchor, which was recovered from the wreck, can be found today outside the Moana Pioneers Memorial Hall and the Moana Beach Tourist Park, in Nashwauk Crescent, Moana, 38 km south of Adelaide.
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