Mariners: Caithness and the Flying Dragon 1

At the beginning of 1854, the year which saw the wreck of over thirty ships including the Sea Gull (Captain Caithness) during a gale in Table Bay, talk of a wonderful new clipper ship was making headlines in the British and Colonial press.

In a column headed ‘English Clippers versus American Clippers’, one report read:

We have been much gratified by the inspection of the clipper Flying Dragon, built by Mr Pile, of [Monkwearmouth] Sunderland. Her tonnage is 780 old measurement and 674 new. She has been built especially to compete with the Yankee clippers. Her length over all is 199 feet and her beam 34 feet. The Flying Dragon made the run from the Wear to the Thames in the short space of twenty-eight hours and, judging from this specimen of her performances, we shall be much surprised if she do [sic] not make one of the most rapid passages to Australia on record. She has everything necessary to make her go. Her build is on the most improved principles. She is neatly and well rigged, with no  unnecessary top-hamper; and, moreover, she is commanded by a smart officer, Captain James George Carter, who, on his last voyage from China, was successful in saving the lives of the crew of the barque Titania which was lost … in the China seas …*

A heroic Captain and a clipper of marvellous modern design couldn’t fail to excite widespread interest. The career of the Flying Dragon would be closely watched by the general public as well as by the maritime community at the Cape, who could hope for a good look at the ship when she called at Table Bay on her Australia run.

No-one could have predicted that the Flying Dragon, true to her name, would soon be breathing fire and smoke and trailing disaster in her wake.

The Sunderland Clipper Barque Flying Dragon
Illustrated London News 4 Nov 1854

 * The Courier, Hobart, Tasmania 4 January 1854, copied from the London Morning Herald's report.

Mariners: Caithness and the Sea Gull

It was 1854 and nothing much had changed for Cape coastal mariners despite the historic decision recently taken by Queen Victoria to grant the Colony Responsible Government. 

The opening of the First Parliament was a ceremonial affair held at Tuynhuis, the residence of Governor Grey, who presided. The power of the Cape Parliament was limited: the Governor, appointed by the Queen and the Home Parliament, still called the shots.

More pressing concerns than the newly drawn-up constitution occupied the maritime community. On 15 July 1854 at Table Bay there was a violent gale, said to be one of the most severe in many years, causing havoc when several ships, riding very heavily on an increasing sea, parted their anchors. The barque Canopus, carrying cargo, went ashore at the Castle, and not long after the Wild Sea Mew under Captain Grainger collided with the Sea Gull, commanded by Captain Caithness.

The story was dramatic enough for the overseas press to pick it up and run with it for a few days, though there were differences of opinion as to the precise date of the gale and the name of the Wild Sea Mew (given as White Sea Mew in some accounts). From the London Daily News:

The following is an extract of a log kept at the port-office, giving the particulars of the gale in Table Bay … At 12.10 p.m. the Canopus parted from her remaining bower chain when she immediately slipped the remainder of it and ran ashore a little to the southward of the Castle Ditch. The life-boat was immediately dispatched in charge of Mr Wilson, the assistant port captain, who succeeded in landing the crew in safety…  At 1.45 the schooner Wave Spirit parted her bower cable … At 4 p.m. the ship White Sea Mew parted both her bower cables during a heavy squall from the northward, fouling and taking with her the brig Sea Gull, both of which immediately slipped the remainder of their chains and ran on shore near the Castle Ditch, close to the Canopus [Captain Crosby]. Part of the female passengers and children of the brig [Sea Gull] were landed in the life-boat shortly after she struck, but in doing so the life-boat got stove* and seeing that the remainder of the passengers and the crews of both vessels were perfectly safe in continuing on board, all other efforts to land them that night were given up. 

Both vessels came well up on the beach and remained firmly imbedded [sic] in the sand. Midnight. Still blowing a very heavy gale and tremendous sea setting in on the bay. The officers and crew of the port office establishment with life-boats and all other apparatus in attendance, opposite the vessels, all night. After the White Sea Mew came in contact with the Sea Gull she then fouled the John Knox taking her bowsprit out and doing her other serious damage.**

Further ships caught in the debacle were the Margaret Milne, the Empress, the Euphrosyne, the American barque Silver Cloud, the schooners Prairie and Rachel and the Gitana. Apparently the barometer had given no prior indication that such a severe gale was in the offing. By the following morning it had abated but over 30 cargo and other ships had been sunk and otherwise destroyed. 

The question remains: was Captain Caithness of the Sea Gull James Ramsey Caithness? Reports mention that this brig was bound for Australia with passengers who were already on board when the gale struck. Would James Caithness have been undertaking this type of voyage at this date? More investigation is required before this Master’s identity can be established beyond doubt. 

Ship in a gale

*  stove in, i.e. holed
**  London Daily News 8 September 1854 The Gale in Table Bay. Other reports appeared in the Morning Post 5 September 1854 and the London Daily News 7 September 1854

The Zuid Africaan reported in July 1854: 'For Australia. The Sea Gull Captain Caithness leaves this port today. She takes a full cargo and the following passengers: Cabin: Messrs Harris, Melle, and West and 2 boys; Mesdames Harris and child, Burke and 5 children; Mrs Steuart, Miss Vipond, Miss West, and 40 steerage passengers.' [This was relayed in The Sydney Morning Herald 19 Sept 1854, some time after the event; the planned voyage did not take place as the Sea Gull, though refloated, was later condemned.]

Ships and Mariners: 19th c Cape and Natal 14 Harrington

Phoenix

Emanuel Harrington was master of the 405 ton paddle steamer, Phoenix, operating between the Cape and Algoa Bay from the end of 1842. 

No stranger to this stretch of coast – previously he had been in command of a schooner, the Briton – Harrington spent a decade with the Phoenix, giving her the best years of his life. 

She wasn’t the first steamer in the Cape coastal service: that honour belonged to the Hope which arrived in December 1838 under Captain Cox (Baddeley succeeded him in 1839) but was wrecked in March 1840 in fog off Cape St Francis.

The Phoenix was intended as a replacement for the Hope but struggled against fierce competition from the local schooners. Cape records track the history of her decline, the sale of the steamer by auction in 1845 and, true to her name, her subsequent rebirth under new ownership. Harrington retained command.

Perhaps he would have done well to recall that Phoenix had been an unlucky ship from the time she left the builders’ yard in May 1842 for her maiden voyage to the Cape. A contemporary account gives a clear picture of what could happen to a steamship: 

Emanuel Harrington, master, bound from Greenock to the Cape of Good Hope, put into Porto Praia, St. Jago, in great distress, having touched upon a shoal at the N. E. point of the island, on the 24th ultimo [June], at half-past ten at night. Supposed distance from land 22 or 23 miles, and lat.16° 19' north, and long. 22° 26' west. It is also supposed to be the Sunbeam Shoal, upon which the Charlotte was lost in April last year. The Phoenix, at the time of the accident, was under sail without steam, and drew eleven feet forward and twelve and a-half feet aft, and the place injured is at the after part of the keel; and there being little or no swell of the sea, these facts demonstrate that the shoal in question has more than eleven feet of water over it. The Phoenix came here from St. Jago for further repairs and a supply of coals … and now proceeds to England to make good the damage she has sustained. Had the Phoenix not been a steamer she must inevitably have been lost, as the water, before the steam was got up, nearly reached the furnaces. Some fuel, however, being thrown into the fires, quickened the action of the steam, and the pumps soon kept the vessel free.

Repairs were made and Phoenix set off again for Table Bay, arriving safely in December 1842.

However, mariners and their ships were subject to external forces other than wind and weather and shoals. Despite several years of regular coasting at the Cape and giving a boost to smaller ports such as Plettenberg Bay and Mossel Bay, progress sounded the knell of doom for the Phoenix. In 1852 a contract for carrying the mails between the Cape and Natal was given to the General Screw Steamship Company which had already captured the mail run from England to South Africa, and the Phoenix was jettisoned. So, too, was Harrington.

Memorials and other archived documents present a litany of his attempts to obtain other employment. In 1854 the people of Port Elizabeth requested that Harrington be given the position of Port Captain there; he applied for the post in 1855. Nothing was forthcoming from the Colonial Office and shortly afterwards Harrington, apparently unsuccessfully, made application for a post as Wharfmaster at Algoa Bay, then for one as Port Captain at Port Nolloth, a tiny seaport on the north-western coast of Namaqualand, Northern Cape. He was, as they say, on the beach.

The Phoenix left the Cape bound for Australia, taking with her some optimistic South Africans responding to news of the gold rush Down Under. She was wrecked in 1855 in the Torres Strait.

An Early Royal Mail Steam Packet Company Paddle Steamer, 1840s
(possibly Tweed; artist unknown; Southampton City Museums)

Ships and Mariners: 19th c Cape and Natal 13 Bell

At the beginning of the 1840s the winds of change were ruffling Cape waters, a breeze that would soon blow into a gale. Steam was the new watchword and its effects would be far reaching in the mercantile marine. Bell would no doubt have had some pithy comment about odious comparisons made in the press concerning the new coastal steamer, Phoenix, and his schooner Conch.

The great advantage of Steam communication on our coast is strongly exemplified at the present moment. The steamer Phoenix and the Conch, one of our fastest sailing Coasters, put to sea on Thursday the 3^rd …  the latter was compelled in consequence of the strong south-easter to put back on the 7^th and still remains in Table Bay, whilst … the Phoenix arrived in Mossel Bay on Saturday morning and left again on Sunday morning at 7 o’clock for Algoa Bay. Her return [to Table Bay] is advertised as expected tomorrow.

The Enterprise, 1825

Steam navigation made its initial impact on the Cape two decades earlier, when the Enterprise became the first steamship to reach South Africa on 13 October 1825. Captain James Henry Johnston, an ex Royal Navy man with a sense of the dramatic, brought her into Table Bay, reporting that though they had been off Table Mountain at midnight on the 12^th he thought ‘the inhabitants of Cape Town would be disappointed if we anchored in the night, [so] lay to until morning and ran in about 9 o’clock.’

The populace, seeing the unaccustomed smoke, thought a ship was on fire and a crowd gathered. When the significance of the historic event dawned upon them, commotion ensued, people pouring forth to every viewpoint. During the Enterprise’s short stay before she continued her voyage to Calcutta, it’s said that 4 000 of the town’s residents had boarded the ship to sightsee.

Enterprise was a paddle steamer, with two engines of 60 h.p. each, and sails (barque-rigged) for back-up. ‘The mechanism was so elaborate and took up so much room that no cargo could be carried as all the remaining space, apart from the accommodation for passengers and crew, was required for coal.’ There, in a nutshell, was the difficulty: quarters were cramped, stowage of fuel led to some accidental fires, which, though speedily quenched, alarmed passengers. Shovelling coal out of the ballast tanks proved exhausting for the crew – Johnston had to make an unscheduled stop en route to allow them to recover - and as the ship steamed full ahead everyone became covered in coal-dust.* 

Surely there could be no future for such an intolerable mode of travel? How could it ever compare with the graceful lines and clean progression of the sailing ship?

It would be some time before regular steamship services became feasible at the Cape, because the small coastal sailing vessels filled most needs. The Enterprise, a ship which (almost) passed in the night, is remembered while the early coasters and their mariners are largely forgotten - except perhaps by the latter's descendants. Let's keep their light burning bright.

The Nemesis, first iron steamship to round the Cape of Good Hope, 1840.
The East India Company frigate, Nemesis, 700 tons, was on her way to Chinese waters and her appearance in those parts caused considerable consternation among the local pirates who found a steamship a novel and uncomfortable proposition to tackle.* 

*Ships and South Africa: Marischal Murray (OUP 1933)

Ships and Mariners: 19th c Cape and Natal 10 Falconer

William Falconer 1812-1877

William Falconer, an interesting Master Mariner in his own right, acquires further importance through his marriage to James Scorey’s step-daughter, Ann, on 24 June 1841 at Port Elizabeth. The ceremony took place ‘at the house of Captain Scorey’.* 

Ann Falconer 1823 -1891, step-daughter
 of James Scorey,
wife of William Falconer

The network of colonial connections becomes ever more intricate: among the witnesses at the Falconer/Scorey wedding was William Smith, who with his wife Mary Ann Frances b Mallors had been present at William Bell’s marriage to Mary Ann Caithness in June 1838. The Smiths’ son would later marry Maria Sisson Falconer. James Tobias Mallors was yet another Master Mariner.

Ann Scorey, previously Robinson, ca 1793-1843;
wife of Capt James Scorey, and mother of Ann
Falconer.

To be continued ...

*See a copy of the marriage record and other details at:
http://freepages.genealogy.rootsweb.ancestry.com/~haydencowan/Falconer/Falconer%20William/Captain%20William%20Falconer%201812%20and%20family.pdf 

http://wc.rootsweb.ancestry.com/cgi-bin/igm.cgi?op=GET&db=haydencowan&id=I1339

Acknowledgement:

Lorna Cowan