The wreck of the ‘Indus’ at Moletivoe -A passenger’s tale
It was on Saturday, the 7th instant that I was standing on the deck of the good ship “Indus” and at almost 2 p.m. took my last look at the pepper pots with which our Government Architect has made the beach so spicy, and bade adieu for a time to the land of my adoption. Little did I reck that another spice – the spice of romance that I had dreamed of from my Robinson Crusoe days – would unpleasantly season the experience of the next forty eight hours. But so it was.
The next morning at day break a slight shock was felt sufficient to set the tea quivering in the early cup, and in a minute or so a more decided bump precipitated the tea spoon to the floor and brought the ship up sharp. The engines stopped immediately… the time was 6.19 am.
Observations taken at noon shewed that we were off the N.E. Coast of Ceylon, and grounded on the treacherous shoals of Moletivoe – the “thorn island”. Vain attempts were made by starting and reversing the engines to dislodge the vessel from her sandy bed; but to most of us land-lubbers it seemed that nothing but an unsparing jettison of cargo would be of any avail. This, however would appear to have been the last idea of the ship’s officers, who threw out nothing – till too late.
About 2 p.m. we went and asked the Captain either to throw out his cargo or allow us a boat to go ashore. The latter course, he told us, would prove certain death to us as we should be dashed to pieces by the breakers. Another officer hinted that we should be plundered and perhaps murdered by the ‘savage tribes’ that inhabited this inhospitable coast. Both these fears proved to be equally groundless in the sequel.
On again reaching the deck we heard that there were 9 feet of water in the main hold. It appears that the ship had drifted onto her anchor which had driven in one of the plates. It seemed a little puzzling to know why an anchor should have been put out on the side towards which the ship was drifting. However the mischief was done and of course, it was of no use to throw out the cargo any more. The “Indus” like poor old Margery in the song had decided to settle down. Up and up the water crept in the main hold till it washed the tables in the second class saloon, and fears were entertained for the safety of the bulkhead.
About 4 or 5 p.m. it seems to have been decided to attempt to move the vessel from her position (strangely enough the rise of the tide seemed to have floated her off the sand bank) and steer her for Trincomalee, 56 miles distant. And this with the main hold full of water, and a water tight bulkhead whose condition gave cause for anxiety! Luckily the destiny that shapes our ends frustrated so rough hewn a policy, and to the unspeakable relief of all of us, she struck again on a sand bank, and refused to be moved.
The next morning, Monday, a consultation was held by the passengers, and it was decided that should a storm – which might be hourly expected at this season – arise, we would be in a very perilous position and that it would be best to take advantage of the abnormally fine weather to leave the ship.
It was at first intended to start in an open boat for Trincomalie. One of the passengers, however, strongly urged that an attempt should be made on land on the coast. The ship’s officers with considerable reluctance, gave a boat and crew and two passengers proceeded on an exploring expedition. It was found that communication with the shore was extremely easy and might have been effected at any time during the previous day.
On the return of the explorers the whole of the passengers including a lady and three children embarked in one of the lifeboats and were safely landed ashore. Baggage was restricted to the barest necessities of life – a somewhat elastic term, which one gentleman conceived to embrace a bottle of hair douche and a plentiful supply of eau de cologne.
On shore we made ourselves as comfortable as circumstances would permit in the rest house and adjoining kachcheri. I must not omit to state that before we left the ship, a code signal was arranged between us and the ship; one of which – a single gun, or rocket – was to signify that in the event of communication with the shore being difficult when assistance arrived the Captain would leave us “to make the best of our way across the island” – at least 180 miles of imperfect communications!
During the night those of us who did not sleep too soundly heard a solitary gun fired, and a letter that arrived the next morning from Captain Breeze announced that the ship had settled down in the night, level with her rail, the watertight bulkhead having given way, as we all expected it would. To our great relief H.M.S. “Ranger” commanded by Captain Pipon, R.N.. turned up and moored about a mile off the “Indus”
and we all put in native dug outs about 11 a.m.
After a fatiguing journey in the hot sun, we arrived at the “Ranger” where we were treated with the greatest courtesy and hospitality by the officers. We arrived at Trincomalie by nightfall, and were very kindly entertained by the Admiral, Sir Fredrick Richards, and the other authorities of the place.
On Wednesday night we were taken off by the P and O steamer “Clyde” which had been promptly brought round from Colombo by the P and O Agent, Captain Bayley; and after revisiting the scene of our disaster we went full speed to Colombo where in the comfortable saloons of the Grand Oriental Hotel we soon strove to forget the misery we had gone through.
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