"FOUNDER AT VERY SHORT NOTICE."

The Bundaberg Mail and Burnett Advertiser, 10 April, 1911.

YONGALA DISASTER.

CAPTAIN JONE'S VIEWS,

Lost Wednesday a representative of

the "Mail" sought out Captaln Jones, 

the local harbour master, and

obtained from him the facts and opinion 

regarding the ill-fated Yongala.

The Yongala, said Captain Jones,

was a well and substantially built

vessel with a deep keel and a high

floor. She was a good sea boat,

perfectly safe in all weathers, even

as an empty ship in water ballast.

In my opinion, she would never capsize. 

Captain Knight was a good, reliable master 

and had first-class officers under him. The 

vessel had powerful and reliable machinery 

and carried a staff ot flrst class engineers.

She was well found in every respect as a

first class passenger ship. I travelled in her 

recently and experienced heavy weather 

on the voyage and found her a splendid sea 

boat.

I knew Captain Knight for many years; we

served together in the sailing ship Windsor

Castle from London, over thirty years ago.

In my opinion the Yongala, after

clearing Whitsunday Passage, shaped

a mid channel course, to give the 

mainland a good offing and reef

and islands a wide berth, and made

a good course to a position between

Cape Bowling Green and Cape Cleveland.

This eloquent summary of the the most likely course chosen by Captain Knight confirms that Yongala was on course when she foundered. She was 5 mile further offshore which corresponds with 'give the mainland a good offing.'

The following extract dated 1954, goes further:

This obstruction is shown

on our charts 084 degrees 11

miles from Cape Bowling

Green Lighthouse, and is dead

on the track of ships bound

for Townsville — R. G. Ledley,

553 Vulture Street, East 

Brisbane.

courtesy Google Earth

As a small portion of the cargo

from the lower hold, and also the mail

basket (which would be stowed in the

'tween decks) and portion of a music-

room door (which was actually situated

inside the main saloon doors) have been

picked up, it is evident that some serious

accident must have befallen the vessel.

Being in the centre of the cyclone, no doubt

the vessel would labour heavily and would

take some heavy lurches, say from 30 

degrees to 40 degrees, which would mean

that any cargo, especially machinery, that

was not extremely well stowed - would shift

and cause the vessel to have a heavy list

to leeward, and become unmanageable. 

Maintaining this heavy list would cause

the vessel to ship heavy seas and having

a long narrow alleyway enclosed by high

bulwarks, that would be kept full by the

heavy seas would add more weight to 

the lee side and cause a further list. The

constant shipping of heavy seas and the

weight of the water in the alleyway would

stove in the cabin doors, saloon skylights,

flooding the saloon and filling the ship, 

causing her to founder at very short notice.

Should any of the boats unhook as the 

vessel was sinking and floated away clean

of her, in my opinion, they would drift over

the Barrier Reef, probably through the

Flinders Passage, and may have got ashore

on some of the cays in the passage or 

outside the Barrier. I have always found

a strong set out towards the Barrier,

especially when there was heavy rain inland

on the watersheds of the rivers.

It is a privilege to find this extract and explanation which is the closest approximation we shall ever get to what likely took place. 

Note it well.

It is also interesting that a weak link could have been the shifting of cargo, especially heavy machinery such as the wheel components lying in hold 1. 

The author starts off diplomatically defending Yongala's seagoing attributes, but when we read angles of 30 and 40 degrees heel, there can be no denying that the common denominator is a top heavy vessel.

In February 1875, I was on the steamer

Leichardt, Captain McLean. We picked

up a boat and crew from the Gothenburg,

and went out to the wreck of the vessel on

the Inner Barrier. At that time we felt a very

strong current setting out to Flinders' Passage

and carrying all the wreckage over the Barrier

Reef and out to the Pacific.

In the case of the Yongala disaster the set of the current, after the cyclone, carried wreckage both northward and landward. One assumes that lifeboats would have been subjected to the same forces if any had 'floated clean away from her.'

I have experienced a hurricane off

Mauritius, in the Indian Ocean; we

were in a sailing ship, which was

dismasted and the cargo shifted. I

was also in a hurricane between New

Caledonia and the Australian coast

in the steamer Rangatira when the

cargo shifted and we narrowly escaped 

foundering. The same thing I experienced 

when in a sailing ship off Cape Agulhas.

courtesy Trove

15 DEGREES.

Inquiry:

Evening Journal, Adelaide, 9 June, 1911.

Mr. Munro—Did she take a list when

light?

Mr. Wareham—Nothing extraordinary.

She would have a slight list of 15 deg. in

light trim, but was never uncomfortable

for those on board.

Mr. Munro—Had she any tendency to

heel over?

Mr. Wareham—Not at all.

It is extraordinary to read this extract overlooked in many similar reports, including the Inquiry transcript. A list of 15 degrees was extreme to say the least. 

In the case of the inherently top heavy Waratah, during her first voyages she was tender, some might argue dangerously so, periodically hanging in a list for days at a time. Even at Waratah's worst her angle of heel was never more than 4 or 5 degrees.

15 degrees must surely be regarded as extreme and dangerous. To say that 'it was comfortable for those on board' is not the issue at hand. This steamer had a stability problem, outlined most eloquently in the previous post.

Yongala was in light trim during her last, ill-fated voyage.

According to the "Law of 15's", a ship should not list beyond 15 degrees if there are heavy beam seas and winds. Mr. Wareham had admitted to this threshold in evidence. Once the hurricane winds came to bear on Yongala's starboard bow and beam, all in effect, was lost.

Edwin Rothwell, master mariner and Government
pilot, gave evidence regarding his unsuccessful 
search for the Yongala on the Porpoise. 

In his opinion the Yongala did not go on a reef 
at all. The hurricane came from the north-east 
and progressed landwards, and if she was driven 
anywhere it would be on the main shore. 

He believed the Yongala met the full force of the 
storm at about midnight and she simply went
down.

Precisely what happened.

The force of the storm would naturally give her
a list, and some cargo might have moved and 
prevented her from recovering. He did not think
there was much chance of further search proving
successful. 

All that was found was a hatch. Asked why none 
of the boats was found, he said they were securely 
lashed. 

Contrary to previous reports that a portion of lifeboat 1 from the port side, was discovered, Mr. Rothwell denied such. His explanation made complete sense.

The fact that the music room doors had been found 
went to prove that she shipped heavy seas before 
going down. 

Again entirely plausible.

It would be possible for the cargo to move, even if
well stowed. Unless something like that happened
he thought a ship like Yongala would have weathered
the storm. He did not believe she succumbed through
instability, but through some minor disaster.

So close but not prepared to take that final, damning plunge.

Mr O'Shea—You don't suggest neglect in the 

storage of the cargo?

Witness—Not in the least. There was nothing 

lacking either in the ship, its officers, or crew.

Mr. O'Shea—Do you suggest any human

effort could have saved her? 

Witness—The only thing would have been to 

anchor in Whitsunday Passage. 

Indeed, this was an opportunity lost.

Continuing, witness said he had concluded that

the Yongala did not strike a rock, because of the 

small amount of wreckage found. The portions of

the ship picked up did not in his opinion, point 

to her having gone on a rock.

courtesy Trove

THE GLOVES OFF.

Geelong Advertiser, 6 April, 1911.

WAS THE YONGALA" TENDER?"

SYDNEY, "Wednesday.—Mr. Lawrence, 

secretary of the Merchants' Service Guild 

of Australasia, has communicated with 

Mr. Tudor, Minister for Customs. requesting 

that a full and exhaustive inquiry be made 

into the complaints regarding the constructive 

stability, ballasting and loading of the steamer

Yongala. "What" the exact nature of the

complaints are Mr. Lawrence is not disposed 

to say at present, but he points out that at 

the present time there is no authority in the 

Commonwealth or State laws to prevent a 

vessel similar to the Yongala proceeding to sea, 

and if wrecked, to permit of compensation, to 

be claimed by the relatives of those, lost.

Along the wharves, wharf-laborers, who stated 

that they had frequently loaded and unloaded 

the Yongala, stated that she was a very "tender'' 

ship, and wanting in stability. She would hardly 

stand up straight against the wharf, and was 

what was known as a "cranky" ship. They further 

stated that quite recently pig-iron ballast to stiffen 

the vessel had been removed, and the vessel 

was so deprived of her artificial righting lever,

which should have been unnecessary had she 

been properly constructed in the first place. 

In addition, the men stated that most of the 

cargo on the last trip of the Yongala was 

"measurement," and not "dead weight" and 

was "so placed around the centre of gravity 

that the balance of the vessel was impaired, 

if not destroyed." 

Asked what they thought had happened to the 

Yongala. the men gave it as their opinion that 

the steamer turned turtle in the gale. They 

ridiculed the idea that she struck Nares Rock,

and referred to the manner in which the

wreckage was coming ashore, and its

deposition as far north as Lucinda

Point in support of their opinions.

The absolute truth of the matter.

Yongala at Melbourne.

courtesy Trove

'HOLE IN THE BOW' SOLVED?

The Australian Women's Weekly, 24 November, 1982

Exploring the Amazing Wreck of the Yongala.

AN ADVENTURE FILMED FOR TELEVISION

An historic wreck off

the Queensland coast

became the star of a

Ron and Valerie Taylor

special documentary

The Adelaide Steamship Company vessel 

Yongala disappeared in 1911, swallowed

whole by the sea during cyclonic weather. 

Only the body of Moonshine, a racehorse 

en route from Brisbane to Townsville, reached

land. Moonshine, along with a prize bull, had 

been loaded as cargo on the afternoon of 

March 21,1911, when, in a festive mood, 

Yongala had slipped from the Brisbane 

Wharf setting a course north to Townsville.

Built in 1903, she was splendidly fit-

ted with accommodation for 110 first

class and 130 second-class passengers

and considered the finest vessel to be

seen in Australian waters - the pride

of a nation whose only means of 

extensive transport was still by ship.

Over the years many theories were

put forward as to the Yongala's fate.

But towards the end of World War II, a

minesweeper, searching the channel for

mines, found a patch of shoal water

14 km out from Cape Bowling Green. It

lay in 30 metres of water and coincided

with the exact dimensions of the

Yongala. The mystery of the Yongala's

location was solved.

In June last year, the Federal Government 

declared the wreck of the Yongala historic. 

This act of foresight was brought about 

largely by two people who had never seen 

her, Jennifer Amos from the Department of

Home Affairs in Canberra, and Ron Coleman, 

a marine archaeologist from the Queensland 

Museum of Marine Archaeology.

With my husband Ron, I had visited

the Yongala a year before while taking

the T.S.M.V. Reef Explorer from Sydney 

to Cairns. Our brief visit had taken us 

into what must be one of the richest

areas of marine life in the world. "We

have to make a film of her," said Ron.

"It's the most amazing place I have ever

seen underwater". Every diver on board

agreed.

A year and one month later, with the

blessing of the Federal Government's

Department of Home Affairs, we went

back. On board were a group of three

friends and Ron Coleman.

We had 10 days to shoot enough film

for a TV special which will be shown on

Channel Seven.

Everyone had a job. Mike Minehan

was to find her name; Mike Ball, a

diving instructor from Townsville, was

in charge of decompression; my friend

Janice and myself were on cameras;

Mark Heighes, my nephew, was to

handle the cables for Ron's camera

lights, a job which required great skill

when working around sharp obstacles.

Ron Coleman was to a do a survey of

the wreck and retrieve as many loose

artefacts as possible.

Diving into the grave of 120 people is

not a sad thing. The terror and pain is

all lost in history and the people, en-

tombed in the growth-encrusted hulk,

part of a vibrant, living coral reef. No

tombstone could be more impressive, no

wreath more exquisite, no resting place

more a part of nature.

Clouds of fish obscured the Yongala's 

outline; thousands of corals softened 

her shape.

Ron and I swam to the bow where 13

giant Queensland groper resided. The

largest was about 250kg in weight. They

hung like oval balloons directly beneath

the hull.

non
Helneath the hull. Thousands of trevally

Thousands of Trevally schooling around 

them melted away as we approached, to 

reform in a solid wall behind us.

Huge groper eyed us with obvious

dislike. This was their ship now, and

intruders were not welcome. One,

trapped momentarily in a hole in the

bow, loudly thumped his displeasure as

he blundered away.

I wondered vaguely about that opening. 

Rumours of a collision between the 

Yongala and a smaller vessel were 

common. Something had made a hole in the

bow below the water line, but when and

how it was impossible to tell. 

Mike was already working on the coral-covered

bow, carefully putting aside the larger

growths for replacing elsewhere.

I pushed through the soft corals on

to the first-class promenade - and

startled a loggerhead turtle which

charged to freedom.

An unusual shape caught my eye. 

Careful not to stir the sediments, I 

sank into a cabin and retrieved a brass

light fitting, complete with bulb. The 

Yongala was the first vessel in Australia 

to have electricity and refrigeration.

Janice and I sank down into the second-

class saloon. The great schools of fish 

living inside the wreck were a problem, 

cutting down the visibility as effectively 

as a London fog. I had planned to 

photograph each large enclosed area, 

but it was impossible. A living curtain of 

tiny fish hung in every room.

The graceful columns that supported

the ceilings were festooned with

growths. An eel peeping from a toilet

bowl disappeared into the ancient

plumbing. The first-class saloon lav

open to the elements, its ceiling half

gone. Glass portholes showed faintly

the perimeter of the illumination, silver

then black, silver then black.

We drifted down. Something enormous

brushed against my legs; another giant

shape obliterated Ron. My heart jumped.

Great rays, 3 metres across hung in

mid water. Moving slowly, they 

followed us. I caressed them, stroking

their white bellies.

The wreck, though beautiful by day, with

the setting of the sun, burst into a 

brilliant fairy-land. Corals of every size,

shape and colour blossomed forth, 

softening even more the once proud

ship.

More than 70 years ago, nature had taken

a dead man-made thing of metal and wood,

and given birth to a great living reef, richer

in life and colour than any other place we

had ever seen.  

A wobbygong shark guarded the galley door. 

We swam over him into a gloomy sediment

filled room. Once the birthplace of great 

banquets and elaborate dinners, the kitchen

implements stood bleak and ugly beneath

their coating of grey sludge. A cupboard

door crumbled under my hand, but before

the sediments completely fogged my vision,

I glimpsed an array of bottles and baking

utensils.

Back on deck after decompression it was

excitement and noise. None of us had ever

experienced such fantastic diving. Already

it was apparent that 10 days would not be

enough to examine and document the 

entire wreck.

Mike Minehan had not been able as yet

to uncover any of the name. We all had

stories to tell, but my mind was preoccupied

by the pale bones protruding through the

sediment in one of the rooms.

"The dissolving lime in the water preserves

them" explained my husband, and I wondered

about the people who lay buried beneath us.

Night diving is one of my greatest loves.

It is a time of discovery, adventure and 

beauty. We have been filming at night

for more than 21 years and, under 

normal circumstances, it is not more

risky than diving by day. The Yongala,

however, had the potential hazard of

becoming lost inside.

n

Decompressing I watched with interest the 

plankton cloud growing. Small fish of brilliant 

colours fed on even smaller fish who fed on 

what looked like floating dots. A fog of tiny

shrimp appeared and buzzed around me, 

covering my face with their prickly bodies. 

I could not bear it, and surfaced prematurely. 

My hair was full of shrimp. They were in my 

ears, down my neck. It was quite horrible.

One day, Janice and myself were poking 

around the crew's quarters when we found 

a beautiful pink hand basin. The two of us 

had quite a struggle moving it into the open 

and I exhausted the remainder of my air car-

rying the thing to a collecting basket.

Ron Coleman was working nearby in a storage 

locker. It contained among other things, bottles 

of port, car tyres, bolts of blue cloth, and two 

brass signalling lamps, all seemingly in good

condition. What Ron wanted most of were the 

lamps, but in the end. time defeated him, and 

by law they will now remain in place as a small 

part of Australia's history, accessible to the 

general public only in pictures.

I lifted a bag of bottles as I surface some with 

their corks and contents intact. My delight at 

collecting a basket well-aged port soon turned 

to horror as I was standing on the back deck 

admiring my find when one of the corks pushed 

out and spouted the contents all over me. My eyes, 

mouth, nose, hair were all full of the foulest-

smelling-tasting liquid imaginable.

"Seems it has been aged a little too long," remarked 

our skipper, as he turned on the deck hose and washed 

me down. After that we treated all bottles with their 

contents intact very carefully indeed.

Gradually the heaps of artefacts grew. Odd things 

like wrought iron chair ends, taps, keys, door locks, 

light shades, port holes, rubber tyres, joined the 
bottles.

The safe had been found the first day, but 

someone before us had already broken in. 

I found what could be a second safe in a small, 

lightless room, but was not sure of my find until 

my pictures were developed back in Sydney.

Mike Minehan had painstaking chipped away 

metres of coral to reveal the ship's name.

Our last act was to position the brass plaque 

on the ship's hull. Lest some unscrupulous 

diver wants to souvenir it as a memento, we 

decided not only to bolt it down, but also to

cement it in. Sounds simple enough, but 

cement is not easily handled underwater. 

Somehow, after a great deal of struggling 

it worked, and the whole thing ended up in 
place.

The Australian Government should be proud 

of its gift to the divers of Australia. Without 

protection, Yongala would have been like so 

many of our old wrecks, blown to pieces for 

non-ferrous metals, her inhabitants killed, her 

artefacts reduced to rubble.

Now she stands as a monument, not only to 

Australia's historical past, but also the far-

sightedness of her present.

Ten more shipwrecks along the east coast 

have now been declared historic. As such they 

will be preserved and protected as natural 

museums. From now on, the artefacts must 

remain as untouched as the giant gropers, 

sea snakes and corals.

It's all part of our heritage and I am glad we played a part.



Cairns Post, 17 October, 1911.

BRISBANE,; Last Night (11.40 p.m.).

-The yacht Norma, belonging

to Dr. Cassidy, has reported at

Sydney the discovery of the Adelaide  

Company's steamer Yongala, 

which, was last seen from Dent Island, 

on the evening of March 23rd last, and 

since when no tidings were received 

of the vessel. 

The Norma, reports that the vessel is 

deeply embedded on a sandy bottom, 

and although divers were employed they

could do little or nothing. They used 

explosives, and pieces of wreckage were

shot to the surface as they broke away 

from the sunken vessel.

The Yongala is located in a direct line, 

seaward from where the horse Moonshine 

was washed ashore, not far from Cape 

Cleveland.

The carcass of the horse was

found at the beach at the mouth

of Gordon's Creek, three miles

down the coast from Ross River.

The bones were there, minus the

head an hooves, says a message 

received at the time. "The colour

was bay." The strong odour arising 

shows that the horse had not been 

long dead. The remains were under 

water at high tide. 

The horse could not have got there 

from the land owing to the boggy,

state of the country, and must have

been washed up by the sea.

The location, as described, is directly across from the wreck of the Yongala - 90 degrees!

Two conclusions:

- the dynamite described probably caused the hole in the bow

- this was indeed the wreck of Yongala, discovered at the end of 1911.

Why the £ 1,000.00 reward was not claimed remains a mystery, as does the absence of publicity surrounding the discovery.

courtesy Google Earth.

courtesy Dive Trips Australia

courtesy Trove.

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