Colin Clarke

I joined Buries Markes on 19 August 1953. I chose to apply to Buries Markes for an apprenticeship because the village Co-op Wholesale Society store manager, said his brother-in-law was a Captain Geo. Smith, employed by them and that he was to be Master on a brand new ship being built in Sunderland.

On receiving my application, I was instructed to go to Sunderland for an interview with Captain Smith. I was accepted and was told that I would first do a trip on the La Quinta from West Hartlepool to Rosario to Avonmouth and then transfer to La Chacra.

I joined the La Chacra in Sunderland on 24 November 1953. It was in late March or early April 1955 that La Chacra, a really fine looking ship, almost met her end.

We had left Aden and were heading North in the Red Sea. Weather was typical for that part of the world hot, slight seas, no swell and the entire crew, whilst not yet affected with ‘the channels’ were pleased at least that we were going in the right direction. The ship had a full cargo of general, consisting of among other things, Niger Seed, Manganese Ore, Raw Rubber in Bales, Talc, Gunnies, and cases of Bata Shoes.

I was on the 4 to 8 watch with the Mate and came off the bridge at 2000 hrs ready for a chat and a cup of coffee with my cabin mate before turning in. About 2115 the ship felt as if it had encountered a heavy swell, she rose two or three times and there was a deathly silence as the engines stopped. Even in the cabin we could tell that we were stopped dead in the water. No sensation of being afloat at all. I went out onto the deck, looked over the side in the dark and could see the phosphorescent impression of rocks in the water. A light house was blinking its warning light just about 2 points to port. The alarm bells then sounded and I was amazed at the difference between a boat drill and the real thing. Those boats were out and lowered to the embarkation deck as if there was a $100 prize for first.

Tank and bilge soundings were taken all round and I was assigned the job with the second mate of taking soundings with the lead line to see how much water we had around the ship.There was about 5 feet less water at the bow than the ships draft when leaving our last port.The depth of water was pretty constant until a point just aft of the front of the bridge accommodation, where the water got suddenly deeper. At the stern we could find no bottom with the deep sea sounding machine and it had 100 fathoms of wire.

Futile attempts at using the engines to come astern from the reef were made and eventually Captain Smith told us that he felt we were safe enough for the time being, and both anchors were dropped to hold the ship where she was.

In the morning, we could see that we were only about a mile from what looked like a typical desert island. A heap of sand with a lattice type lighthouse. This was Masamarit, a small islet in the Southern Suakin Group, off the coast of what is now Eritrea. We could see the end of the reef terminating in dark blue water just about 100 feet to the starboard side. If the ship had passed a quarter of a mile to starboard, possibly no one would have been the wiser. The Third Mate had unfortunately made a grave navigation error. I understand that he had assumed that when he first picked up the light that it was showing at its maximum theoretical distance. But apparently the automatic unmanned light had its lens partly obscured by piled up, blown sand, its range was much reduced, and we were many miles closer to the light than he had thought. He was not using that new fangled gadget called radar, which was only used in bad weather, in case it wore out. Had he been using radar, his mistake would have been readily apparent.

In consultation with London it seems that it was agreed that we would try and lighten the ship by jettisoning cargo and so it was that the crew got quite a bit of practice at being wharfies, stevedores or longshoremen, depending which part of the world you live in. The Manganese Ore was in No.2 Hold, overstowed with rubber and gunnies in bales and being the heaviest component it seemed logical to start there and lighten the forward part of the ship.

A very small landing craft type of vessel was chartered and came from Port Sudan. She was called Sidi Barani. Why I can remember that name I do not know! She could only take possibly 200 tons I would think and when she was loaded she would scuttle off to Port Sudan and return for another load.

A salvage vessel arrived from Aden I think, put salvage pumps aboard, laid a mushroom anchor astern of us connected to a large diameter wire rope. The starboard anchor was brought aft by using the derricks in a union purchase type of arrangement, but with the aft derrick of one hatch connected to the forward derrick of the next hatch aft. The anchor was eventually worked back far enough to drop it over the area of the reef which suddenly deepened. An attempt was made by the salvage vessel to tow us off while we used the combined power of the mushroom anchor, our own engines and our starboard anchor, but we were stuck fast.

Captain Matty Frame from head office arrived after a couple of days and we also got the services of an oceangoing tug, which I think had been stationed in Cyprus. An interesting aspect of the salvage was that it was suggested by the salvage master that the ship not be lightened solely from the forward part but also from the aft holds. The thinking was that by lightening forward only, the ship would pivot amidships on the reef and that when coming off there would be a larger area of bottom scraping on the reef.
By lightening aft, the ship would present a smaller area to the reef as the surface area of the bottom was smaller in the fore part of the ship. I understand that about 3000 tons of general cargo was jettisoned. One could see a line of cargo drifting northwards in the current during the day. Towards the end of the salvage we got the services of about 100 Sudanese men, nearly all seemed to be 6 feet tall or more with hair in ringlets much like Rastafarians today. I was told that they used camel dung to keep their hair in these ringlets. Judging by the smell I could believe it. They slept and ate on deck, catching fish which they hung up on lines around the poop to dry.

After about 10 days we were eventually dragged off the reef. It was about 2200 hrs the wind had got up and there was what would be called a rough sea for the Red Sea. The ship had started to bounce on the reef. The salvage vessel and tug both towing aft, La Chacra engines full astern and heaving on the starboard anchor. Once off the reef the wire to the mushroom anchor was let go and disappeared into the depths to join the anchor, both unrecoverable. I am not sure why, but our starboard anchor was not able to be lifted by the windlass and was hanging in deep water. Half an hour of hacksawing with a new blade every five minutes saw the anchor cable cut and the anchor and cable was jettisoned. The ship took a list to starboard of about 12 degrees, the result of the starboard deep tank being holed, but we were afloat and free of the reef.

To say there was a feeling of relief on board is putting it mildly. We had been able to see hammerhead sharks and other nasties swimming around the ship and no-one was keen to find himself in the water.

Incredibly the ship was inspected by Lloyds Surveyors in Port Sudan, and given the ok to proceed to the Suez Canal. The ship was brought upright by appropriate ballasting and another survey at the Canal gave us the ok to transit. We called at Genoa and discharged what cargo was left for the port after our wholesale jettisoning and after another survey it was through the straits of Gibraltar and bound for Rotterdam. The Bay of Biscay must have been kind to us as I have no recollection of any trouble there.

I was looking forward to getting into dry-dock to see the damage which had been caused by the grounding but I didn’t make it. Instead I was transferred to Rotterdam hospital on arrival, but that’s another story!

Pictures I saw of the damage showed very extensive damage to the bottom plating and there was extensive damage to the engine. In the engine room were four pillars which extended from the tank top to the maindeck. These pillars were fastened to the maindeck with brackets which were riveted. The impact of the sudden stop on the reef was such that when the bottom of the ship stopped, the upper parts still had forward momentum and all the rivets were sheared off. I remember the engineer on watch at the time telling me that it sounded like a machinegun as all these rivets flew around the engineroom. I was told that the repairs were approximately the equivalent of 50% of the new build cost.

Capt. Smith and the Third Mate both left the company but I understand Capt. Smith gained another command quickly with a Tyneside company.

Except for the dates, this story has been compiled from memory. If anyone can add factually to this I would be pleased to hear from them.

I was able to rejoin La Chacra in Amsterdam on 18 July 1955 and sailed with her until August 1956.

La Chacra

The photo opposite shows the "Empire Caxton" before she became the "Peterland" and managed by Buries Markes for Sagland. The photo shows her in a sorry state and I'm afraid she wasn't much better when I sailed on her from June 1958 to September 1958 as 2nd Mate. A typical run for her then would have been to take sugar from Cardenas, Cuba to Galveston, Texas. Then light to Coatzacoalcos, Mexico for sulphur for Mobile, Alabama. Light to Cardenas for sugar and then St John's, New Brunswick for paper for Aberdeen.

I do recall though that when we were in St John New Brunswick, (sitting on the mud, alongside, twice a day as the monster tides came and went) that Colin Van Gelder the Master was so fed up with getting fuel oil mixed with his shower water that he went ashore and booked himself into a hotel for the period.

He also hired a Chevy Impala with a bonnet big enough to land a helicopter on and treated me and a couple of others to an afternoon one Sunday of sightseeing in New Brunswick.