15a["Disaster At The North West", The West Australian, Tuesday 8 February 1881, page 3]

DISASTER AT THE NORTH WEST.

WRECK OF 12 VESSELS AND LOSS OF LIFE.

By the Pet which arrived at Fremantle yesterday, from the Nor'-West, intelligence was received of a serious disaster which befel the pearling fleet, at a place called the Mary Ann Patch, about 30 miles west of the Fortescue River, resulting in the loss of twelve vessels, the drowning of three European sailors, and of several native pearlers. We are indebted to Mr. Robert Sholl for the following particulars, furnished to him by Mr. John Brockman, whose vessel was among the wrecked:--

On Thursday, Jan. 6th, the glass began to fall, but not enough to indicate any very great change, though the weather looked very threatening. I was lying at anchor in company with the schooner Ethel, in Coolgurra Creek, about eight miles to the westward of the Mangrove Islands, in what I considered to be perfectly safe anchorage in any weather.

On the morning of the 7th, the weather looked very stormy, and the glass began to fall steadily, and the wind to increase. By 8 a.m. it was blowing a hard gale, and the atmosphere was thick and heavy. Shortly after nine, as the gale increased, a sea began to rise, and the Ethel commenced dragging. I was then riding by one anchor with about twenty fathoms of chain, and when the Ethel dragged I let go the lasp anchor and paid out on both chains until I had 50 fathoms on the working, and 30 on the lasp, chains. Shortly after this the Ethel dragged by us and disappeared in the gloom. The gale had now increased to a hurricane, and we could only get about by crawling on our hands and knees. The glass was now below 27 deg. and still going down, and though not yet noon it was so dark that it was difficult to distinguish objects at more than a few yards distance. We now began to drag, and entered the Mangroves about 200 yards up the creek. Here we lost our rudder. The mangroves were now all round us, and waving ten or twelve feet above our heads, and the vessel was grinding and crushing them on all sides. All at once I heard the vessel give a great roll, and the water came up along the deck to the combing of the main hatch. She, however, righted again, and I then noticed that the Mangroves had entirely disappeared.

This was about 1 p.m., and the glass was down to about 26.50. A few minutes after this she gave another roll, and capsized. This must have been in the height of the gale. After clinging to the wreck until about 5 in the afternoon, it suddenly fell a dead calm, and the darkness cleared away enough to enable us to make out the land. After some difficulty we succeeded in righting and partially bailing out the only dinghy that had fortunately been lashed to the mast by a strong new painter, and got those of the hands into it who were unable to swim. We all managed to get ashore, with the exception of one poor fellow (a native) who we found next day entangled in the chain.

On the bank where we landed, we found Mr. Hall and Mr. John O'Grady, and a few natives. O'Grady's son, a lad of 16, had not turned up, and they feared he was drowned. It appears that the Ethel stove and sank soon after entering the Mangroves, and they had been clinging to the mangroves for hours, and were all together when the mangroves disappeared, when they all struck out in the direction (as they hoped) of the shore. But it was so dark that they could not see each other.

The gale now re-commenced with (if possible) greater violence than ever, from the westward, and we had to make a rush for the hills distant nearly half a mile. Here, huddled together, we passed a terrible night. In the morning, which broke fine, we all started for the scene of the disaster. We managed to get a fire and roasted some birds that had perished in the storm. The body of poor young O'Grady was found on the marsh. He was much bruised, and appeared to have had a hard struggle for life.

In thinking over the whole matter, and judging from the appearance of everything this morning, I am quite convinced that we must have had a large tidal wave which carried us over the Mangroves, and then overturned us, as it was done so suddenly--one minute they were waving many feet above the deck, and the next had entirely disappeared. From the masthead of the Ethel, to-day I can see large gaps through the range of hills along the coast, and the country appears inundated for miles inland. I have no means of ascertaining the fate of the other vessels which were lying near the Mangrove Islands, as the dinghy we got ashore last night was blown away by the wind in the night, and where we landed is now an island.

Mr. Sholl has also furnished us with the following list of casualties: Nautilus, dismasted; Adela, lying bottom up, ashore; Sarah, high and dry, away up in the creek, beyond the Mangroves; Fortescue, a total wreck; Banangara, a complete wreck; Alpha, do.; Morning Star, foundered, and her owner (McDow) drowned; Florence, capsized, and one of her crew - a man known as 'Dutch Peter' - drowned ; the Ethel swamped, a total wreck ; Emma, dismasted ; Kate, capsized, on her beam ends; Yule, swamped, a total wreck; Emma, dismasted. All the vessels lost the whole of their stores, shells, and pearls. Mr. Sholl says the Nautilus was caught right in the middle of the storm, which started from the N.E., and worked round to W.N.W. The glass when last seen on board the Nautilus was at 27.80, the fair weather range being 30.40. Where the Adela went ashore, saveral tiers of sandhills along the coast were completely washed away, and all along in the direction of the Ashburton a complete transformation has taken place in the appearance of the country, which was inundated for many miles inland. An immense quantity of turtles, several sharks, and shoals of dead fish, were washed ashore, and the effects of the storm generally were described as altogether unprecedented.

15b["Western Australia", The Argus (Melbourne), Tuesday 29 March 1881, page 6]

WESTERN AUSTRALIA.

From Our Own Correspondent.

...

Since I last wrote the north west coast has been visited by a fearful storm, which has caused much destruction of property. Mr John Brockman, a gentleman engaged in pearling pursuits lately sent a graphic account of the disaster to the West Australian and from his description it would appear that a worse willy-willy, as these north-west tornadoes are locally called, has never been known, even in a region where they are very frequent and very severe Mr Brockman says that he, with some 12 other pearling vessels, was operating on the Mary Ann patch, near North west Cape, when indications of a storm coming on, he deemed it advisable to take refuge in the mangrove creeks. He lay-to in a position which he considered one of absolute safety, the other boats being all close at hand. This was in the morning, and by midday the wind had risen to a fearful hurricane, and a blackness had settled down upon them so dense that they could only see a few yards ahead. Their anchors began to drag, and finally they were washed by the force of the waves and wind into the narrows of the creek, where they were kept grinding upon the mangroves in the most uncomfortable and alarming way. At this time they could detect the tops of the mangroves waving some dozen feet above their heads. Suddenly there was a great lurch and roll, the water came up along the deck to the combing of the main hatch, but the vessel soon righted, and the crew noticed that the mangroves had completely disappeared A few minutes afterwards the vessel gave another roll, and capsized. Mr Brockman and his men clung to the wreck until 5 o'clock p.m., when there was a sudden lull, the centre of the cyclone having probably been reached. They then scrambled on shore, where they found O'Grady, the captain of another pearler, which had also been completely wrecked. Before long the hurricane came on again, and the party was obliged hastily to seek the hills for shelter. Here they passed a wretched night, and in the morning found that only one of the 12 vessels which, 21 hours before, had been riding at anchor together, had escaped complete destruction.

Mr. Robert Sholl, another pearler, who brought the tale of the disaster to Fremantle, states that on sailing down the coast he found that a complete transformation had taken place in the appearance of the country. Whole tiers of sandhills had been washed away, some of which had been as much as 50ft, in height, and at the back of where these hills had formerly been water covered the ground for miles inland. Sharks, turtle, and fish were stranded high and dry some distance from the shore, and there was every indication of the action of an immense tidal wave. Although the darkness was too complete to enable him to judge otherwise than by inference, Mr Brockman is convinced that it was a wave of this kind that lifted him over the mangroves, and afterwards capsized him in so inexplicable a way. The loss of life occasioned by this terrible disaster was, fortunately, not so great as might have been expected. Only three Europeans perished, the number of native divers who were drowned has not been correctly ascertained, but was not, I believe, very large.