The
PORT HOLE
June 2007
We Will Remember Them.
The grave, At Porthcawl New Cemetary, of the twelve crew members of the Samtampa who were not sent home.
The woman second from left is Mrs Jean Poole of Whitby whose father
Robert Weatherill is buried here.
It was the first time she had visited the grave of her father.
The woman third from left is Mrs Debbie Nixon of Whitby, Robert Weatherill’s granddaughter.
We were told by an auxiliary Coastguard who met us and escorted us to the cemetery that every year children from nearby schools come and clean up the grave,
And keep it neat and tidy.
The anchor on the grave is a replacement as the original was stolen
Believed to have been gypsies who were camped nearby
It was made of Italian Marble.
SKER POINT, PORTHCAWL, SOUTH WALES.
L-R David Price, David Buckworth, Cyril Kitchener, John Cook
Ian Barnes and Brian McIntyre
This is the sight where the plaque is placed to mark (just behind us) where the Samtampa came ashore!
To look at it in real life, it is an horrendous place, all rocks.
I think the most contentious item that stands out in my mind when looking at this
photo, is seeing the sand hills behind us and thinking of the crew looking at the land and thinking how close they were to safety with green hills only about a cables length away, but, as we all know, it was the oil in the water that stopped them from making land.
The Mumbles lifeboat (Oystermouth, Swansea Bay) ‘Edward, Prince of Wales’
Washed ashore not very far from this point.
5 cable lengths either side of this barren rocky shore, is sand that would have made all the difference for a ship driven ashore.
Houses up to twelve miles inland had oil from the Samtampa on their windows!
SO CLOSE, YET SO FAR
The loss of the ss Samtampa and Mumbles lifeboat,
Edward, Prince of Wales.
There can be no doubt in anyone’s mind that so much memory had been kept of this disaster that affected the lives of so many people.
To the NE alone, it was a disaster of monumental proportion for what must have been seen in 1947 as disbelief that some thing of this magnitude could happen after the horrors of world war two to the suffering of Merchant seamen after all they had done and been through.
Even to the people of Oystermouth Swansea Bay, to have eight men taken from a close knit community was an even bigger disaster.
To lifeboat station and the RNLI in general, this tragedy was one that they could over come, in no time at all a new crew came forward and a lifeboat found for them to man and the service continued as there are always lives to be saved at sea.
That is the heritage that we, as seamen have lived up to.
In the letter that I wrote to Andrew Freemantle MBE chief executive of the RNLI,
I closed with the words, “And I am proud to have served under the Red Ensign, but more so, proud to have been a British seaman.”
Yes we can swing the lamp and rib one another about which was the best service between the RN and MN but at the end of the day it all boils down to the same wording, British seaman.
I do keep thinking back to the number of people who we came across to us in Wales, and who were of a sea going background.
People who wore badges of the MN and MNA, one man had made the trip from Cardiff MNA, yet, I asked where all the others were and of the Newport branch I would have thought there would have been more men there to offer support.
Could it be that numbers were so restricted in favour of the RNLI.
I know that the service in ‘All saints Church’ Oystermouth was RNLI generated,
The Church was full to capacity 4-500 people seated, and with more standing around the walls.
But, at the end of the day I feel that we as a branch played our part in remembering the NE seamen who perished on that rocky coast of Wales and why so many people wanted to come and talk to us after making such a long trip down there.
We have remembered our shipmates, we have visited the scene, we have spoken to the people but most of all, we have been seen.
Not one single person can say that we don’t care, because we have been seen to care!
As an ex lifeboat man it is only natural that on the day I could wear two hats, but I didn’t, I only wore my MN hat, yet, I am as proud as the next man to be able to say that I was there.
It is things of this nature and what we stand for as seamen that make’s me so proud to say that I am a member of the branch,
And that I can play my part by working for the branch and welfare of my shipmates.
Dave
Old it may be.
But it still brings a smile
Dave.
Letter from a master to the company.
Dear Sir’s,
It is with regret and haste, that I write this letter to you, with regret that a small misunderstanding could lead to such circumstances, and haste so that you may receive this report before you form your own conception of events from press reports, for I am sure they will end to over dramatise the affair.
We had picked up the Pilot and the apprentice had returned from hoisting the ‘H’ flag.
This young man was on his first voyage and was having difficulty in rolling up the ‘G’ flag.
I therefore assisted him, showing him the correct method, and on coming to the last part, told him to let-go.
The lad, although willing, is not too bright, which necessitated my having to repeat the order in a sharper tone.
At this moment the chief officer came in from the bridge wing and, thinking that I was referring to the anchors repeated the ‘Let Go’ to the 3rd officer on the foc’sle.
The Port anchor, having been cleared away, but not walked out, was promptly let go.
The effect of letting the anchor drop from the hawsepipe whilst the vessel was proceeding at full harbour speed proved too much for the windlass brake and the entire length of the cable was pulled out at some speed.
I fear that the damage to the windlass and chain locker may be extensive.
The braking effect of the Port anchor caused my vessel to sheer to Port, Fortunately towards a tributary of the river, up which we were proceeding.
Sadly there was a swing-bridge at the entrance to this tributary.
The bridge operator showed great presence of mind by opening the bridge for my vessel, but, in his haste, he did not think to stop the vehicular traffic, the result being that the partly opened bridge deposited a Volkswagen, two cyclists and a cattle truck on the fore deck.
Most of my ship’s company are at present attempting to round-up the contents of the latter, which from the noise, I would say were pigs.
The 3rd officer showed commendable initiative by dropping the Starboard anchor in an attempt to slow the progress of the vessel, sadly of little practical use as the anchor fell on the bridge operator’s cabin.
After the Port anchor had been ‘Let-Go’ and the vessel started to sheer, I gave a double ring ‘Full Astern on the telegraph and personally rang the engine room to order maximum astern revolutions.
I was informed the sea temperature was 53 degrees and was asked whether there was a film that night.
My reply would add little constructive substance to this report.
Until now, I have confirmed my remarks to activities at the forward part of the vessel, down aft, other problems were being experienced.
At the moment that the Port anchor was ‘Let-Go,’ the 2nd officer was supervising the making fast of the after tug and lowering the towing spring down to the tug.
The sudden braking effect of the Port anchor caused the tug to run in under the stern of my vessel, just at the moment when the propeller was answering the double
‘Full-Astern’ order.
The prompt action of the 2nd. Officer in securing the inboard end of the spring delayed the sinking of the tug by some minutes, allowing the safe abandoning of that vessel.
Strangely, at the very moment of ‘Letting-Go’ the Port anchor, there was a power blackout ashore.
The fact that we were passing over a ‘Cable Area’ at the time may suggest that we may have touched something on the riverbed.
It is certainly lucky that the high tension cables brought down by the foremast were not energised, replaced perhaps by the underwater cable, but due to the shore blackout it is not possible to say where the pylons fell.
It never fails to amaze me, the actions and behaviour of foreigners in moments of minor crisis.
The Pilot, for instance, is at this moment huddled in a corner of my day room, weeping after consuming a bottle of Gin in a time that is worthy of inclusion in the ‘Guinness Book of Records.’
The tug master, on the other hand, reacted in a more violent manner and has had to be handcuffed in the ships hospital where he is telling me to do the most impractical things with my ship and person.
I enclose the names and addresses of the vehicle drivers and details of their insurance companies collected by the 3rd. office after his hurried evacuation of the foc’sle after we grounded amidst the barges moored just upstream of the swing bridge.
These insurance particulars will enable you claim for the damage that the vehicles caused to the paint work on No. 1 hatch coamings,
It is sad to reflect that, had the apprentice realised that there is no need to fly Pilot flags after dark, none of this would have happened.
I must close this report now as I expect the rest of the night to be rather busy and feel rather tired from the incessant shouting and banging on my cabin door, wailing of sirens and flashing police car lights.
Your diligent servant,
Capt. So and So
Master
The
PORT HOLE
June 2007
We Will Remember Them.
The grave, At Porthcawl New Cemetary, of the twelve crew members of the Samtampa who were not sent home.
The woman second from left is Mrs Jean Poole of Whitby whose father
Robert Weatherill is buried here.
It was the first time she had visited the grave of her father.
The woman third from left is Mrs Debbie Nixon of Whitby, Robert Weatherill’s granddaughter.
We were told by an auxiliary Coastguard who met us and escorted us to the cemetery that every year children from nearby schools come and clean up the grave,
And keep it neat and tidy.
The anchor on the grave is a replacement as the original was stolen
Believed to have been gypsies who were camped nearby
It was made of Italian Marble.
SKER POINT, PORTHCAWL, SOUTH WALES.
L-R David Price, David Buckworth, Cyril Kitchener, John Cook
Ian Barnes and Brian McIntyre
This is the sight where the plaque is placed to mark (just behind us) where the Samtampa came ashore!
To look at it in real life, it is an horrendous place, all rocks.
I think the most contentious item that stands out in my mind when looking at this
photo, is seeing the sand hills behind us and thinking of the crew looking at the land and thinking how close they were to safety with green hills only about a cables length away, but, as we all know, it was the oil in the water that stopped them from making land.
The Mumbles lifeboat (Oystermouth, Swansea Bay) ‘Edward, Prince of Wales’
Washed ashore not very far from this point.
5 cable lengths either side of this barren rocky shore, is sand that would have made all the difference for a ship driven ashore.
Houses up to twelve miles inland had oil from the Samtampa on their windows!
SO CLOSE, YET SO FAR
The loss of the ss Samtampa and Mumbles lifeboat,
Edward, Prince of Wales.
There can be no doubt in anyone’s mind that so much memory had been kept of this disaster that affected the lives of so many people.
To the NE alone, it was a disaster of monumental proportion for what must have been seen in 1947 as disbelief that some thing of this magnitude could happen after the horrors of world war two to the suffering of Merchant seamen after all they had done and been through.
Even to the people of Oystermouth Swansea Bay, to have eight men taken from a close knit community was an even bigger disaster.
To lifeboat station and the RNLI in general, this tragedy was one that they could over come, in no time at all a new crew came forward and a lifeboat found for them to man and the service continued as there are always lives to be saved at sea.
That is the heritage that we, as seamen have lived up to.
In the letter that I wrote to Andrew Freemantle MBE chief executive of the RNLI,
I closed with the words, “And I am proud to have served under the Red Ensign, but more so, proud to have been a British seaman.”
Yes we can swing the lamp and rib one another about which was the best service between the RN and MN but at the end of the day it all boils down to the same wording, British seaman.
I do keep thinking back to the number of people who we came across to us in Wales, and who were of a sea going background.
People who wore badges of the MN and MNA, one man had made the trip from Cardiff MNA, yet, I asked where all the others were and of the Newport branch I would have thought there would have been more men there to offer support.
Could it be that numbers were so restricted in favour of the RNLI.
I know that the service in ‘All saints Church’ Oystermouth was RNLI generated,
The Church was full to capacity 4-500 people seated, and with more standing around the walls.
But, at the end of the day I feel that we as a branch played our part in remembering the NE seamen who perished on that rocky coast of Wales and why so many people wanted to come and talk to us after making such a long trip down there.
We have remembered our shipmates, we have visited the scene, we have spoken to the people but most of all, we have been seen.
Not one single person can say that we don’t care, because we have been seen to care!
As an ex lifeboat man it is only natural that on the day I could wear two hats, but I didn’t, I only wore my MN hat, yet, I am as proud as the next man to be able to say that I was there.
It is things of this nature and what we stand for as seamen that make’s me so proud to say that I am a member of the branch,
And that I can play my part by working for the branch and welfare of my shipmates.
Dave
Old it may be.
But it still brings a smile
Dave.
Letter from a master to the company.
Dear Sir’s,
It is with regret and haste, that I write this letter to you, with regret that a small misunderstanding could lead to such circumstances, and haste so that you may receive this report before you form your own conception of events from press reports, for I am sure they will end to over dramatise the affair.
We had picked up the Pilot and the apprentice had returned from hoisting the ‘H’ flag.
This young man was on his first voyage and was having difficulty in rolling up the ‘G’ flag.
I therefore assisted him, showing him the correct method, and on coming to the last part, told him to let-go.
The lad, although willing, is not too bright, which necessitated my having to repeat the order in a sharper tone.
At this moment the chief officer came in from the bridge wing and, thinking that I was referring to the anchors repeated the ‘Let Go’ to the 3rd officer on the foc’sle.
The Port anchor, having been cleared away, but not walked out, was promptly let go.
The effect of letting the anchor drop from the hawsepipe whilst the vessel was proceeding at full harbour speed proved too much for the windlass brake and the entire length of the cable was pulled out at some speed.
I fear that the damage to the windlass and chain locker may be extensive.
The braking effect of the Port anchor caused my vessel to sheer to Port, Fortunately towards a tributary of the river, up which we were proceeding.
Sadly there was a swing-bridge at the entrance to this tributary.
The bridge operator showed great presence of mind by opening the bridge for my vessel, but, in his haste, he did not think to stop the vehicular traffic, the result being that the partly opened bridge deposited a Volkswagen, two cyclists and a cattle truck on the fore deck.
Most of my ship’s company are at present attempting to round-up the contents of the latter, which from the noise, I would say were pigs.
The 3rd officer showed commendable initiative by dropping the Starboard anchor in an attempt to slow the progress of the vessel, sadly of little practical use as the anchor fell on the bridge operator’s cabin.
After the Port anchor had been ‘Let-Go’ and the vessel started to sheer, I gave a double ring ‘Full Astern on the telegraph and personally rang the engine room to order maximum astern revolutions.
I was informed the sea temperature was 53 degrees and was asked whether there was a film that night.
My reply would add little constructive substance to this report.
Until now, I have confirmed my remarks to activities at the forward part of the vessel, down aft, other problems were being experienced.
At the moment that the Port anchor was ‘Let-Go,’ the 2nd officer was supervising the making fast of the after tug and lowering the towing spring down to the tug.
The sudden braking effect of the Port anchor caused the tug to run in under the stern of my vessel, just at the moment when the propeller was answering the double
‘Full-Astern’ order.
The prompt action of the 2nd. Officer in securing the inboard end of the spring delayed the sinking of the tug by some minutes, allowing the safe abandoning of that vessel.
Strangely, at the very moment of ‘Letting-Go’ the Port anchor, there was a power blackout ashore.
The fact that we were passing over a ‘Cable Area’ at the time may suggest that we may have touched something on the riverbed.
It is certainly lucky that the high tension cables brought down by the foremast were not energised, replaced perhaps by the underwater cable, but due to the shore blackout it is not possible to say where the pylons fell.
It never fails to amaze me, the actions and behaviour of foreigners in moments of minor crisis.
The Pilot, for instance, is at this moment huddled in a corner of my day room, weeping after consuming a bottle of Gin in a time that is worthy of inclusion in the ‘Guinness Book of Records.’
The tug master, on the other hand, reacted in a more violent manner and has had to be handcuffed in the ships hospital where he is telling me to do the most impractical things with my ship and person.
I enclose the names and addresses of the vehicle drivers and details of their insurance companies collected by the 3rd. office after his hurried evacuation of the foc’sle after we grounded amidst the barges moored just upstream of the swing bridge.
These insurance particulars will enable you claim for the damage that the vehicles caused to the paint work on No. 1 hatch coamings,
It is sad to reflect that, had the apprentice realised that there is no need to fly Pilot flags after dark, none of this would have happened.
I must close this report now as I expect the rest of the night to be rather busy and feel rather tired from the incessant shouting and banging on my cabin door, wailing of sirens and flashing police car lights.
Your diligent servant,
Capt. So and So
Master