Title
Bay of Panama, wrecked at Nare Point, Lizard, March 10th 1891.
Subject
Ship SAIL
IBP Anno
Description
The Bay of Panama was a 2,282-ton, four masted, square-rigged steel ship, launched by Harland & Wolff at Belfast in 1883 and described as one of the finest sailing vessels ever built.
She left Calcutta on November 18th 1890 with 13,000 bales of jute between decks, destined for the mills at Dundee. The homeward voyage was uneventful, and by the early days of March 1891 the Bay of Panama was nearing Cornwall.
The weather was deteriorating fast and Captain David Wright hove-to in order to take deep soundings. The results led him to believe he was close to the Lizard. Dawn on March 9th came with all the signs of an approaching blizzard. At 4pm, when the deck watch was relieved, a strong north-easterly gale was blowing accompanied by driving snow. For the best part of the day the ship had been under fore and main topsails only, but now all sail was furled. This storm became known as the "blizzard of '91", the worst the West Country had known for 200 years. Animals died in the fields of Cornwall and Devon in their hundreds, and four ships were wrecked at the Manacles alone.
At 11:30 pm a white light, thought to be that of a steamship, was sighted from the Bay of Panama but there was no answer to their blue distress flare. A little after 01:00 am on March 10th a huge wave pooed the ship, sweeping her from end to end and smashing every boat on deck. Soon afterwards, still in driving snow and with visibility almost nil, the ship went headlong into the cliffs south of Nare Point, less than seven miles from the safety of Falmouth.
As the vessel struck, she swung round until her bows pointed east, listing heavily to starboard. One mast came down, and both fore and main topmast broke off and fell into the sea. The second mate managed to fire a distress rocket before a wave swept along the deck and washed him overboard. The same wave swamped the cabin, carrying the captain, his wife, the cook, steward and four apprentices over the side to drown.
Meanwhile the mate ordered the rest of the crew into the rigging to get above the freezing water which swirled over the deck. The bosun, carpenter and sailmaker took shelter behind the deckhouse, but two were swept overboard to die in the darkness. The bosun managed to reach the mizzen rigging, but during the night went out of his mind and jumped into the sea. Extreme cold and exposure took its toll of the others in the rigging, all soaked by spray which turned into ice on their clothing and on the ropes to which they clung. At least six seamen froze to death, others lost their grip and fell into the sea.
Daybreak revealed the Bay of Panama hard and fast under the cliff, broadside on to the sea, her bowsprit less than fifty feet from the rocks. Her rigging and deck were in ruins, with a mass of cordage attached to the masts trailing alongside. A few pitiful figures still hung in the rigging, some alive, some dead; it was impossible to tell the difference from ashore. A local farmer searching the clifftops for his sheep was the first to find the wreck and promptly made for Porthallow to inform the coastguards, who sent out from St Keverne with rocket apparatus.
By 9am a breeches line had been rigged and seventeen survivors from the crew of forty were brought ashore. Quite incapable of helping themselves, they had to be lifted from the rigging and placed in the breeches-buoy with limbs in the position in which they were found. Several bodies were floating alongside or lying in the scuppers of the wreck, the first to be recovered being that of the captain's wife. The survivors were taken to St Keverne where they thawed out, fed and put to bed, Next day, a local carrier's horse drawn bus took them to Gweek on the first stage of their journey to Falmouth, but snowdrifts blocking the road forced them to abandon it and for the second time in twenty-four hours they were exposed to near-Artic conditions. Some without shoes, they struggled along the road and eventually reached the outskirts of Falmouth, having as the Falmouth Packet reported 'endured as much privation in that walk as they did in the actual shipwreck.'
Two days later the steamer Hermes, belonging to the Neptune Salvage Company of Cowes, Isle of Wight, arrived to inspect the wreck, but the actual work of salvage was carried out by two Liverpool divers who set up a steam donkey-engine and boiler on deck to operate a winch and tranship the cargo of baled jute into barges alongside. The work was interrupted in August when the donkey boiler burst, killing one man and sending pieces of metal as high as the clifftop. Sightseers came in their hundreds to see the wreck and hear the story of crew's ordeal. Timber from the her deck was cut into small pieces and sold as souvenirs, and her bell was donated to a small chapel at Helford, where it can still be seen high up in the pointed tower, weather beaten and green.
Description from Richard Larn and Clive Carter, Cornish Shipwrecks: The South Coast (Newton Abbot: David & Charles, 1971), p72-75.
She left Calcutta on November 18th 1890 with 13,000 bales of jute between decks, destined for the mills at Dundee. The homeward voyage was uneventful, and by the early days of March 1891 the Bay of Panama was nearing Cornwall.
The weather was deteriorating fast and Captain David Wright hove-to in order to take deep soundings. The results led him to believe he was close to the Lizard. Dawn on March 9th came with all the signs of an approaching blizzard. At 4pm, when the deck watch was relieved, a strong north-easterly gale was blowing accompanied by driving snow. For the best part of the day the ship had been under fore and main topsails only, but now all sail was furled. This storm became known as the "blizzard of '91", the worst the West Country had known for 200 years. Animals died in the fields of Cornwall and Devon in their hundreds, and four ships were wrecked at the Manacles alone.
At 11:30 pm a white light, thought to be that of a steamship, was sighted from the Bay of Panama but there was no answer to their blue distress flare. A little after 01:00 am on March 10th a huge wave pooed the ship, sweeping her from end to end and smashing every boat on deck. Soon afterwards, still in driving snow and with visibility almost nil, the ship went headlong into the cliffs south of Nare Point, less than seven miles from the safety of Falmouth.
As the vessel struck, she swung round until her bows pointed east, listing heavily to starboard. One mast came down, and both fore and main topmast broke off and fell into the sea. The second mate managed to fire a distress rocket before a wave swept along the deck and washed him overboard. The same wave swamped the cabin, carrying the captain, his wife, the cook, steward and four apprentices over the side to drown.
Meanwhile the mate ordered the rest of the crew into the rigging to get above the freezing water which swirled over the deck. The bosun, carpenter and sailmaker took shelter behind the deckhouse, but two were swept overboard to die in the darkness. The bosun managed to reach the mizzen rigging, but during the night went out of his mind and jumped into the sea. Extreme cold and exposure took its toll of the others in the rigging, all soaked by spray which turned into ice on their clothing and on the ropes to which they clung. At least six seamen froze to death, others lost their grip and fell into the sea.
Daybreak revealed the Bay of Panama hard and fast under the cliff, broadside on to the sea, her bowsprit less than fifty feet from the rocks. Her rigging and deck were in ruins, with a mass of cordage attached to the masts trailing alongside. A few pitiful figures still hung in the rigging, some alive, some dead; it was impossible to tell the difference from ashore. A local farmer searching the clifftops for his sheep was the first to find the wreck and promptly made for Porthallow to inform the coastguards, who sent out from St Keverne with rocket apparatus.
By 9am a breeches line had been rigged and seventeen survivors from the crew of forty were brought ashore. Quite incapable of helping themselves, they had to be lifted from the rigging and placed in the breeches-buoy with limbs in the position in which they were found. Several bodies were floating alongside or lying in the scuppers of the wreck, the first to be recovered being that of the captain's wife. The survivors were taken to St Keverne where they thawed out, fed and put to bed, Next day, a local carrier's horse drawn bus took them to Gweek on the first stage of their journey to Falmouth, but snowdrifts blocking the road forced them to abandon it and for the second time in twenty-four hours they were exposed to near-Artic conditions. Some without shoes, they struggled along the road and eventually reached the outskirts of Falmouth, having as the Falmouth Packet reported 'endured as much privation in that walk as they did in the actual shipwreck.'
Two days later the steamer Hermes, belonging to the Neptune Salvage Company of Cowes, Isle of Wight, arrived to inspect the wreck, but the actual work of salvage was carried out by two Liverpool divers who set up a steam donkey-engine and boiler on deck to operate a winch and tranship the cargo of baled jute into barges alongside. The work was interrupted in August when the donkey boiler burst, killing one man and sending pieces of metal as high as the clifftop. Sightseers came in their hundreds to see the wreck and hear the story of crew's ordeal. Timber from the her deck was cut into small pieces and sold as souvenirs, and her bell was donated to a small chapel at Helford, where it can still be seen high up in the pointed tower, weather beaten and green.
Description from Richard Larn and Clive Carter, Cornish Shipwrecks: The South Coast (Newton Abbot: David & Charles, 1971), p72-75.
Date
1891-03-10
Rights
Morrab library
Format
Print
Identifier
WRECK 8.034
Coverage
Nare Head
Period Costume
N