Tag: Bourneuf

  • Tales from the Quarterdeck

    Sixty bite-sized stories from Australia’s maritime past

    The melancholy loss of H.M.S Sirius off Norfolk Island by George. Raper. Source National Library of Australia 136507434-1

    I have just launched a new book titled Tales from the Quarterdeck: Sixty bite-sized stories from Australia’s maritime past. Sixty of the most popular posts have been reedited. In some cases, I’ve rewritten a couple and updated a few where new information has come to light since first writing them.

    For those who would value ready access to the stories in their bookcase, Tales from the Quarterdeck is available in Kindle ebook and paperback formats through Amazon.

    The stories are organised in chronological order, starting with the Tryall shipwreck off the Western Australian coast in 1622, and finishing with the Second World War exploits of the Krait. See below for a full list of the stories covered in the book.

    Sydney Gazette 22 May 1808, p. 2.

    1622 – The Tryall: Australia’s earliest shipwreck

    1629 – The Batavia Tragedy

    1688 – William Dampier: Navigator, naturalist, writer, pirate

    1770  – The Endeavour’s Crappy Repair

    1788 – Loss of La Astrolabe and La Boussole, a 40-Year Mystery                        

    1789 – Bligh’s Epic Voyage to Timor

    1789 – HMS Guardian: All Hands to the Pumps

    1790 – The Loss of HMS Sirius

    1790 – Sydney’s First Desperate Escape

    1791 – HMS Pandora: Queensland’s earliest recorded Shipwreck

    1791 – William Bryant’s Great Escape

    1797 – The Loss of the Sydney Cove

    1803 – Loss of HMS Porpoise

    1808 – Robert Stewart and the Seizure of the Harrington

    1814 – Wreck of the Morning Star

    1816 – The Life and Loss of HMSC Mermaid

    1824 – The Brig Amity’s Amazing Career

    1829 – The Cyprus mutiny 

    1831 – The Caledonia’s perilous last voyage

    1833 – The Badger’s Textbook Escape

    1835 – The Loss of the Convict Ship Neva

    1835 – The Post Office in the middle of nowhere

    1835 – The Tragic Loss of George III

    1845 – The Cataraqui: Australia’s worst shipwreck

    1846 – The Peruvian’s Lone Survivor

    1847 – The Foundering of the Sovereign

    1850 – The Loss of the Enchantress: A first-hand account

    1851 – The Countess of Minto’s brush with Disaster

    1852 – The Bourneuf’s Tragic Last Voyage

    1852 – The Nelson Gold Heist

    Woodbury, Walter B. (Walter Bentley), 1834-1885. Hamlet’s Ghost, Sourabaya [Surabaya], Java [Boat with Passengers and Crew], ca. 1865. Walter B. Woodbury Photograph Collection (PH 003). Special Collections and University Archives, University of Massachusetts Amherst Libraries

    1854 – Bato to the Rescue 

    1854 – HMS Torch and the rescue of the Ningpo

    1856 – The Loss of the Duroc and the Rise of La Deliverance

    1858 – The Loss of the Saint Paul and its Horrific Aftermath

    1858 – Narcisse Pelletier, An Extraordinary Tale of Survival

    1859 – The Indian Queen’s Icy Encounter

    1859 – The Sapphire and Marina

    1863 – The loss of the Grafton: Marooned for twenty months

    1864 – The Invercauld shipwreck

    1865 – The CSS Shenandoah: Victoria’s link to the American Civil War

    1866 – The Loss of the SS Cawarra: Bad luck or an avoidable tragedy?

    1868 – The Bogus Count and Hamlet’s Ghost

    1871 – The Mystery of the Peri

    1872 – The Loss of the Maria, A Cautionary Tale

    1875 – The Tragedy behind the Gothenburg Medals

    1876 – The Catalpa rescue

    1876 – The Banshee’s Terrible Loss

    1878 – The Loch Ard Tragedy

    1884 – The Macabre case of the Mignonette

    1885 – The Douro and its Piratical Captain

    1889 – The Windjammer Grace Harwar

    1891 – The Spanish Silver of Torres Strait

    1893 – The Foundering of the SS Alert

    1895 – The Norna and the Conman Commodore

    1899 – Cyclone Mahina

    1911 – The Loss of the Mandalay

    1918 – The Orete’s Robinson Crusoe-like Castaway

    1935 – The Life and Loss of  the SS Maheno

    1943 – Surviving the Centaur Sinking

    1943 – The Amazing Krait

  • The Bourneuf’s Tragic Last Voyage

    Cross section of emigrant ship Bourneuf. From Illustrated London News 10 July 1852.

       On 3 August 1853, the 1500-ton Bourneuf sank in Torres Strait as she was returning to England. It was ironic that her return was cut short, for her voyage out to Melbourne, Victoria, had been no less tragic. She had left Liverpool in mid-July the year before carrying some 800 impoverished emigrants keen to start new lives in Australia. But one in ten would never make it.

       Convict transportation to New South Wales had ceased two years earlier, and the recently constituted Victorian Government had introduced an assisted migration program to try to solve a chronic labour shortage. The colony had long been short of domestic servants, farm labourers, and other workers, but the recent discovery of gold had only exacerbated the problem. Meanwhile, England was still grappling with the social dislocation brought about by the Industrial Revolution. There were more people than there was jobs. On the surface, the migration program appeared to solve both intractable problems; however, transporting the migrants halfway around the world proved costly. Not surprisingly, there was an incentive to transport the largest number of people at the lowest cost to the Government.

    Emigration Depot at Birkenhead, Liverpool. A ship, possibly the Bourneuf, about to depart for Australia in 1852.

       The emigrants, many of them families with young children, were crammed into the Bourneuf’s two tiers of tiny cabins. Passengers were required to prepare their own meals in tightly packed communal kitchens. Bathing and toilet arrangements were rudimentary at best and maintaining good hygiene was impossible from the outset in the overcrowded confines of the ship. The close, fetid conditions were the ideal environment for the spread of communicable diseases. And, it was not long before people started coming down with dysentery. By mid-voyage, measles and scarlet fever were sweeping unchecked through the ship, taking a terrible toll.

       Isolating the sick proved impossible, and for much of the passage, ten or more people, mostly children, died every week. By the time the Bourneuf dropped anchor off Geelong on 20 September, disease had claimed the lives of 83 passengers. The ship was immediately placed in quarantine while 20 desperately ill passengers recovered.

       It would be nice to think that this had been an incident, but that was not the case. Four ships packed with assisted migrants made the long passage out to Victoria in 1852; the Wanota, the Marco Polo, the Ticonderoga and, of course, the Bourneuf. All were grossly overcrowded, even by the standards of the day. Disease outbreaks raged on all four ships with terrible consequences. No fewer than 279 passengers died on the four voyages. Many more passengers had to be hospitalised and quarantined on arrival. However, the lesson was eventually learned, and the Emigration Commissioners limited future migrant ships to carrying no more than 350 passengers.

    Example of immigrant accommodation on the 1874 James Craig barque at the Maritime Museum in Sydney, New South Wales, Australia. Photo C.J. Ison.

       The Bourneuf remained in Port Phillip Bay for ten months, eventually setting sail on 18 July 1853 divested of her passengers. She sailed from Melbourne bound for Bombay before continuing back to England.

       Captain Bibby made his way up Australia’s east coast, pushed along by a south-easterly trade wind. After first passing through the Tasman Sea, he continued north into the warm tropical waters of the Coral Sea. The Bourneuf remained several hundred kilometres off the coast and well outside the Great Barrier Reef. This had become known as the “outer passage” and was considered by mariners to be safer than navigating close to land inside the reef. Captain Biddy intended to cross through the Great Barrier Reef at the Raine Island entrance so he could carefully pick his way through the labyrinth of shoals that lay in Torres Strait.

       Unfortunately, it appears that Captain Biddy had miscalculated his run towards the entrance. At 1 a.m. on 3 August 1853, a lookout spotted a thin white line of breaking surf looming out of the darkness. By the time the danger had been seen, it was too late to take evasive action. The ship slammed into the Great Detached Reef about 15 kilometres south of the Raine Island entrance. Unrelenting swells from the Pacific Ocean pounded the stranded vessel. Captain Bibby gave the order to abandon ship. Thirty-nine people took to three lifeboats that night.

       Two of the boats managed to get clear of the stricken vessel, and the survivors were later rescued by the Dutch ship Everdina Elizabeth. Captain Biddy, his wife, sister-in-law, and five crew drowned when huge waves capsized their lifeboat while they were still alongside the Bourneuf.

       The Bourneuf is just one of 37 ships known to have been lost in or near the Raine Island Entrance during the 19th Century.

    © C.J. Ison/Tales from the Quarterdeck, 2020.

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