‘Samoa’, 1893

The 112-foot, 163-ton wooden schooner ‘Samoa’ was built in Stockholm in 1866 and may have been used in the slave trade. She was purchased by Goodlet and Smith, a Sydney company formed to mill timber that owned a timber mill at Kiola, and was refitted. On 5th July 1893 she was in Kiola Bay, partly loaded with a cargo of timber, when a very heavy sea set in and parted her from her moorings. She became a wreck the next morning.

The Sydney 'Daily Telegraph' ran what they described as ‘a thrilling story of the loss of the vessel and the crew’s escape from the wreck’:

‘The chief officer, in relating the experiences of the crew, said that the vessel left Sydney on 30th June, and reached Kiola on 2nd July. Kiola is an open roadstead sixteen miles south of Ulladulla, and it is only in fine weather that vessels can load there. We arrived, the weather was fine, and all went well until Wednesday, at noon. We had then 35,000ft. of hardwood on board. At the hour mentioned the barometer had fallen to 29deg. 70min., and the sea was gradually making, though there was little or no wind. So rough was the sea in the afternoon that we were unable to load, and all hands set to work to secure things in anticipation of a bad time. At 9 p.m. the men turned in, the captain deciding to keep the first watch.

The vessel was now riding heavily, and at midnight the stern moorings parted under the heavy strain. All hands were called, and having sent down the cargo gear, coir springs were put on the head moorings, the head sails being set at the same time to ease the strain on the moorings. The wind was now light from the south-west, and the sea making fast, whilst the vessel was labouring and straining very heavily.

At 2.45 a.m. on Thursday one of the springs parted, and shortly after the second one went, all the strain now being on the coir stop, which was fast to the foremast. At 3.15 a.m. we were alarmed by the report that the head moorings had gone five fathoms outside the hawser pipe.

Orders were given for the men to put on lifebelts, the captain calling out "Every man for himself." The foresail was set, but to no purpose, for the ship gradually drifted towards the reef, and at 3.45 a.m. struck with a frightful crash, the sea washing over her and threatening to sweep everything before them.

We clung to the wreck for our bare lives. It was a terrible experience, hanging on and not knowing what moment would be our last. I shall never forget it. Soon after the vessel first struck, the waves lifted her and she bumped over the reef and went over on her bilge, full of water, so that we had to hold on to stand upright. The vessel having now slued broadside on to the beach every sea broke over her. It was apparent that the vessel could not hold together long, and we stood there, cold and miserable, in anticipation of the worst happening.

At 5 a.m. the foremast came down with a terrific crash, taking with it the main mast, and then the vessel seemed to break up almost completely. Fortunately for us, the monkey poop remained above water, and we all scrambled on to it. We hung on to the main sheet to prevent ourselves being swept into the mountainous sea. The waves broke high over us, and we were almost completely exhausted.

The people from the mill ashore could be seen, but having nothing but a heaving line we knew they could not give any assistance with such a terrible sea running. At 6 o'clock one of the men named Johnson, despite the advice of the captain, jumped overboard. Almost immediately he was caught by a huge wave and swept on to the beach, the people on shore rushing in and just saving him from the drawbaok. He was completely exhausted, but soon revived under the kind treatment of the residents.

It was now daylight, and, as there was no prospect of assistance from the shore, the mate jumped on some wreckage and made a desperate attempt to heave a line. The line fell short, and the officer was washed on the beach by the next sea.

There were still five men clinging to what was left of the wreck and, as they could not possibly hold on much longer, the people ashore, at great risk, determined to make another attempt to get a line to the wreck. Their plucky effort was successful. The remainder of the shipwrecked people were then hauled ashore, the captain being the last to leave. All were in a terrible state, and several, including the captain, are still suffering.

The crew speak very highly of the kind treatment received at the hands of the people at Kiola.’