The first of a class of four sister ships, built in pairs at two yards. They cost £210,00 without refrigeration which was installed by outside contractors.

She departed Liverpool on the 20^th November 1937 for Australia via Cape Town and Lourenço Marques. At 10.00 hrs. on the 17^th December 1937 in thick fog off East London she was wrecked off Hood Point Light, near East London. The stern broke off in the swell and she became a total loss.

THE LAST VOYAGE OF THE STUART STAR  ~ Extract from I Survived by Stanley W Swain

I WAS now beginning to settle down to my new life and used my free time at sea to study for a second class Board of Trade Certificate of Competency, I had much to learn. In November 1937, we learned that our next voyage was to Australia via South Africa steaming outward bound on coal and returning on oil. Most large steam ships had been using oil firing for some years, so the conversion of the Stuart’s boilers to coal firing was perhaps unique. At that time, bunkering oil was imported into Australia and its high cost made it economically justifiable to change to coal firing and increase the stokehold crew for the longer voyage.

The normal stokehold staff on oil was two firemen on each watch (six), on coal six firemen, two trimmers and a ‘peggy’, making a total of 27 men. So, accommodation, food and wages for the four months voyage had to be provided for the extra 21 men. I was told that the Stuart had made similar voyages before, and one of the problems for the Second Engineer and the Mate was finding sufficient work to keep the 21 surplus men gainfully employed homeward bound.

No 2 and 3 holds were used as coal bunkers filled in the UK, oil bunkers and double-bottoms filled at Cape Verde Isles on the outward passage. Around the Australian coast as the coal was used the boilers were progressively converted to oil firing, an arduous task for the ship’s engineers, in addition to their normal duties.

We left Liverpool on 20 November 1937 and the passage out to South Africa was uneventful, but my learning curve was given a vertical ‘blip’. None of we assistants, or, indeed some of the senior officers, had had coal-firing experience and coal firemen were few and far between - No wonder when a comparison is made between coal and oil firing for the same pay!

The two oil firemen on each watch had to clean 24 oil burners, after which no further physical work was necessary. Coal firing was a different ‘kettle of fish’, it was a continuous hard slog in hot, dirty conditions for the same pay. I quickly found that the only way to lead the men and carry the steam ‘on the blood’ under these conditions, was to be able to fire a boiler as good as they; learning how to use the slice, jumbo-rake and shovel and to understand stokehold terminology e.g. ‘B— ol’ man on the back-end’ and ‘on the rattle’, etc. Also, as their vocabularies were limited and supplemented by many four-letter words, it was necessary to be able to use the latter so that a degree of understanding was established between oneself and the men.

When on oil the Stuart’s average speed was 11—15 knots, but on coal it was difficult to maintain 13 knots. The necessity to clean at least six fires each watch meant, for the first and last hour of each watch, the steaming, capability was much reduced. Consequently we were two days behind schedule on reaching Cape Town.

On Friday 17 December 1937 when the ship was nearing East London it became foggy during the morning. When I came off watch, after 8.00am, I could see in the distance the tops of hills above the fog bank. As was my practice, if no ‘field day’ duties were required, after breakfast I would take a short nap on my settee. A sudden jolt and the engine room emergency bells in the adjacent alleyway must have awakened me. Donning a boilersuit over my underpants and ‘chain-breaker’ vest, I slid down the flights of engine room ladders joining the watch-keeping engineers.

The vessel had already developed a starboard list and the heavy swell was causing the ship to shudder violently because (as was later found), she was firmly held on the rocks at the for’d end. The situation was frightening, especially for the younger engineers like myself. We were fortunate having Mr Brandie, the second engineer, who encouraged and led us with a nonchalant approach to the serious and difficult conditions which worsened during the next five hours. (Sadly I believe he was lost with 72 others when the Avila Star was sunk by U-201 in July 1942.) In order to maintain steam, the first priority was to get as much coal as we could from No 3 hold through the watertight door into the stokehold. This procedure was speeded up because water started pouring into the hold shortly after grounding. When the inflow of water mixed with fuel oil increased rapidly, the watertight door was closed. In the meantime we had been told that tugs from East London were coming out to our assistance and that we should be prepared to give full astern power when telegraphed.

Two attempts to pull the Stuart off the rocks were made by the tugs with our main turbines giving maximum astern power. The first attempt was aborted when the tugs’ hawser parted, and the second attempt was maintained for some time. I think for 20 minutes but was finally abandoned.

During this time conditions in the stokehold and engine room deteriorated, the constant shuddering movement each time waves hit the starboard side made it difficult to maintain one’s foothold on the sloping floor plates, (varying from 3 to 40°) as the level of oily water rose in engine room and stokehold.

Unfortunately the two steam driven DC generators in the engine room were on the starboard side, one at floor plate level and the other about three feet higher on a platform. Soon the water level rose above the floor plates making it necessary to shut down the lower generator. Later the second machine had to be switched off. From then on we had no electric lighting, but daylight through the engine room skylight made it possible to move around the centre platform but hand torches were needed in the wings. In the stokehold they were essential to enable us to carry out our duties but it was still difficult climbing up in the fiddleys to see that each boiler gauge glass had water in it.

Pumping the stokehold bilges had started shortly after the grounding hut despite using all the pumping services the water level soon approached the lower fireboxes on the starboard boiler. A dangerous situation because any in-rush of water into the fireboxes (still filled with burning coal) could cause a blow-back, probably blowing off the cast iron doors! It was thought that coal/ash was now blocking the bilge suctions so I was instructed to removethe bilge valve covers which were already tinder water and positioned just opposite the fireboxes where the water level was only inches below!

Mr McMahon, another assistant engineer, was with me. He was on the 12-4 and as there was a personality clash between us, we were not on good terms. When I took over from him on watch, we had a different interpretation on the amount of fuel left in the settling tanks. There was keen competition between watches because the fuel consumption showed how efficient the stokehold engineer had been with his combustion management. He was a dour Scot and big with it! My attempts to remove the bilge valve covers under a foot of water coated with bunker oil was not easy by torch light and the knowledge that a minor explosion could occur at ally moment from the fireboxes behind me didn’t help! Mr McMahon pulled me away from the dangerous position and carried on with me handing the tools to him from a safe distance until the covers were removed. I held him in high regard from then on. During times of danger often undiscovered weakness or strength of character is revealed. It was a lesson I have never forgotten.

The situation continued to worsen in stokehold and engine room, the water level increasing despite bilge, general service and ballast transfer pumps working full power on the bilge lines. As the list to starboard increased the starb’d boiler was isolated and steam pressure released by jacking (lifting) the safety valves. It was obvious the water level in No 3 hold had increased rapidly because the resultant pressure was causing the watertight door to leak badly and at various points above from holes in the bulkhead. Jets of water were cascading down onto the floor-plates making it difficult for us to avoid getting drenched. Chippy’ was sent for who managed to reduce some of the leakage by plugging and wedging the watertight door. The ship continued to judder violently, lack of daylight, the smell of fuel oil, the noise of escaping steam and the knowledge that the ship could keel over any moment, provided a stressful condition for all hands.

Sea water had now reached the centre-line tunnel between stokehold and engine room. It must have been two hours after the grounding when the two centre-line, single ended boilers were isolated, de-pressurised, leaving only the port boiler in operation. It was supplying steam to all the pumps and in addition, the starb’d Gwynne (main condenser circulating pump), which had been put on bilge injection with the sea inlet closed. This pump was able to suck large volumes of water from the engine room and pump it directly overboard and at the time seemed to be holding the level of flooding. However, by about 2.00 pm it was obvious that despite the all-out effort to contain the in-rush of water, we were having to wade through two feet of water when passing through the tunnel between engine room and stokehold.

I think it was about 3.00 pm when we were told to abandon ship because the barometer had begun to fall and when the level of water was beginning to cover the starb’d turbine. It was then that we assistant engineers realised a dramatic clean-up was necessary before going topside; so we stripped off in the workshop discarding our oil soaked boiler suits, underwear,socks/shoes and washed each other down with paraffin using rags to get the majority of fuel oil off our bodies. It was also necessary to rinse our hair in a bucket of clean paraffin. I took a last look clown as we climbed the ladders, naked, cringing from the uncomfortable feel of the hot oily flings of the gratings, I could see the compound two-cylinder engine driving the main circulating pump still running under water! It was fascinating to see the cranks, connecting rods and eccentrics moving under water as if on normal service, presumably the port boiler was still supplying steam from its residual heat and remains of burning coal in the fireboxes. (One wonders if modern electrically driven auxiliaries would function totally immersed, provided power were still available.)

We were ordered to pack a minimum of clothing and personal belongings as quickly as possible and to stand-by to be taken off by the lifeboat from East London. It used the Stuart Star’s port side which provided a lee to the heavy inshore swell. As we walked along the deck to disembark the extent of the damage and penetration of the rocks into the ship’s double bottom tanks were indicated by the bilge sounding pipes. They were pushed out above the deck level some three to four feet, No. 1, 2 and 3 holds affected!

It was ironic to note that the Stuart Star had come to grief immediately opposite Hood Point Lighthouse which was only visible some twenty minutes after the grounding, when the fog had lifted. Unfortunately at that time the lighthouse had no fog warning apparatus because the incident of fog was very infrequent. I understand sound warning equipment was installed after the wreck.

The 15 passengers had been taken off during the morning and the majority of officers and men were ashore by late afternoon. Finding accommodation for everyone was difficult because it was the summer holiday season, hotels were full so we junior officers were kindly accommodated in the homes of people associated with seafaring activities. I was fortunate in being able to stay in, I think, the harbour master’s or tug master’s bungalow. An army camp hosted the ratings.

On visiting Hood Point the morning after the grounding it confirmed the wise decision to abandon the vessel because heavy seas were pounding the Stuart, they were breaking over the decks and one could see spray as high as the masts and funnel, getting a boat alongside would have been very difficult and dangerous.

We spent a few days in East London and travelled back to the UK in the lap of luxury as first class passengers on the mv Dunbar Castle.

About a year later after the loss of the Stuart Star, I made another trip to Australia via South Africa, on the mv Australia Star which called at East London. I was able to get round to Hood Point and was amazed to see the damage to my old ship; the hull had been broken up into three separate sections, separation taking place just abaft the main engine room and again at the poop, the latter sections being some half a mile down the coast from the main part of the vessel.

Acknowledgement: Thanks go to Stanley Swain, who is a young 89 for kind permission to publish the above extract.

THESE three pictures of the Stuart Star stuck on rocks at the West Bank in 1937 have been given topicality by the current stranding of the Sagittarius at Leach's Bay. And, apart from their historical significance, they have elements of intrigue, even mystery.

The pictures are among six which belong to Barry and Wendy Steidlen, of Donald Road, East London. Each of the six pictures shows the Stuart Star at a particular time of its last days, stretching over a period of weeks, perhaps months, indicating the photographer's meticulous purpose in recording the death of a ship. Only three of the pictures are published; the others have elements of repetition, but it is possible that each picture was taken on separate occasions.

Barry Steidlen said the pictures were handed on to them 12 years ago by a family relative, John Beckett, who was in the carpet trade in Port Elizabeth. John Beckett had been given a suitcase full of items by a woman for whom he had done some carpeting work. She had been clearing out after the recent death of her husband. Also in the case were three pencil drawings by a reputed Port Elizabeth artist that fetched Beckett a reasonable sum of money when they were sold in Pretoria.

The name of the widow who gave Beckett the pictures is unknown. But on the back of each photograph numbered in sequence from one to six is a handwritten name and address -- L Winkley (or Winkly), 77 Cape Road, Port Elizabeth.

Apart from the pictures showing the increasing damage to the Stuart Star by the pounding of the sea, including the breaking away of the stern, there is one significant change. The star symbol of the shipping line owning the vessel can be seen on the funnel only in the first picture. It was obviously painted over in an effort to mitigate bad publicity.

Extract courtesy of  Dispatch on Line