Showing posts with label Waratah. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Waratah. Show all posts

Sunday, 24 March 2019

Ordinary Women ...

March is officially designated Women’s History Month, so to mark the occasion I thought I would post information about the lives of some of the women who came before me.  I’ve chosen to honour my four great-grandmothers, women from different backgrounds whose lives were typical of the times they lived in.  Although their lives were unremarkable in that context, they each faced challenging personal circumstances and lived through difficult times.  I am grateful for their lives, and for the strength and resilience passed down the generations. Here are their stories.


JANE POSTLETHWAITE 1868-1905


Jane was my maternal grandfather’s mother.  She was born at Queenstown (now St. Andrews) in Victoria, the sixth of eleven children of Abraham Postlethwaite and Ann Victoria nee Humphries.  As a child, her family moved to Tarrawarra near Healesville where her father had taken up a selection of land.  Abraham, a carpenter by trade, had emigrated from Cumberland, England as a young man.  Her mother Ann was born in Van Diemen’s Land (Tasmania) and came to Victoria as a baby with her parents in the earliest days of Melbourne’s settlement.  I’ve written about Ann’s mother in another post here: The Enterprize Voyage.

I don’t know a lot about Jane’s childhood.  She was part of a large extended family on her mother’s side.    At 23, Jane became a single mum to baby Elsie, born at home in Tarrawarra.  Three years later she married my great grandfather Charles Gardner, in Brighton where he had a blacksmith business.  On her marriage certificate she is described as a “domestic”, but I don’t know if this was paid employment or simply home duties.  

I’d love to be able to say the couple lived happily ever after, but sadly this was not the case.  Their first baby Clara was born the following year but died as an infant. The next child Charles died at age 5.  Then came my grandfather Will, followed by Vera, Emily and Arthur.  Next, another Charles who also died in infancy.  Another baby proved too much for her and Jane passed away eighteen months later, five days after giving birth to her ninth baby, a girl named Jane.  Cause of death was pneumonia and heart failure.  She was thirty-seven years old.

Jane was laid to rest in Brighton Cemetery, her grave unmarked until 100 years later, when my cousin Brendon arranged a plaque and we had a family gathering of Jane’s descendants to mark the occasion.

Left with a young family including newborn baby, widowed Charles found a young woman with a baby of her own to move in as nurse/housekeeper. The arrangement became permanent when Charles married Margaret Fielding four months later in January 1906.  Sadly, baby Jane followed her mother to the grave only four days after the marriage.  Charles and Margaret went on to have another six children together. So, with Jane’s daughter Elsie, Jane & Charles’ four children, Margaret’s daughter Olive, and Margaret & Charles’ six children, it’s clear that blended families are not a new phenomenon!



ELIZABETH DUFFY 1873-1940



Elizabeth was my maternal grandmother’s mother.  The daughter of an English mother and an Irish father, she was the only child of both parents’ second marriage.  Born in Brighton, Victoria in 1873, when her father William was 65 years old and her mother 41.  

William was a bootmaker by trade, but was also a lay preacher and Sunday School Superintendent on the Brighton Wesleyan Circuit.  He had emigrated to Port Phillip from Donegal, Ireland, in 1840 with his wife and young baby. Another son was born soon after they arrived.  Her mother, Elizabeth Jennings, was from Atherstone in Warwickshire, England.  She and her first husband left England two weeks after their marriage, arriving in Port Phillip as assisted immigrants in 1852.  Together they had a family of seven children, although the two eldest both died as infants. Her husband died suddenly in 1868, leaving her a widow with her youngest child still a baby.

William and Elizabeth (senior) married in 1871, and two years later young Elizabeth was born. By all accounts her father was well-respected in his community, but given the teachings and customs of the Wesleyan Church at the time, one could imagine she had a fairly strict upbringing.  Her father died when she was only seven years old, and her mother when she was fourteen, leaving her in the care of her older half-sister Emily.

At nineteen, Elizabeth met and married John Grant, grandson of Scottish immigrants.  His father and grandfather had well established businesses and property in Brighton.  John was a wood & coal merchant, and the couple lived in Brighton where they raised five daughters including my grandmother Amy. 

Elizabeth died in 1940 as a result of heart disease.  She was 66 years old, and pre-deceased her husband by 8 years.  They are buried together at Brighton Cemetery.





MARGARET HILL 1835-1899

Margaret is my mystery great-grandmother, about whom I know the least.  She was my paternal grandmother’s mother.  Margaret was born in London, England in 1835 – two years before civil registration began.  According to her Australian marriage and death certificates, her parents were John (or James) Hill and Mary (or Margaret) Chipping.  I’m inclined to go with John & Mary as listed on her marriage certificate because it was herself providing that information, rather than James & Margaret listed by her husband for her death certificate.  She also stated her father was a carpenter.

Despite extensive searches, I have not been able to locate a baptism record for Margaret, and have not been able to locate the family on the 1841 or 1851 censuses.  There are one or two possibilities, including a baptism for a child named Margaret Hill in 1836 in the London Foundling Hospital, which needs further investigation. Nor have I been able to locate a marriage for her presumed parents.

UPDATE: As of 2026, I have confirmed my great grandmother is indeed the Margaret Hill baptised at the London Foundling Hospital. You can read her story here - Margaret Hill - A Mystery Solved...

Margaret came to Australia as an assisted immigrant in 1856, arriving in Port Phillip (Geelong) on the ship Arthur the Great.  She was aged 20, could read and write, and her occupation was housemaid.  I wonder what trepidation or excitement she must have felt about voyaging alone across the world to a new life in an unknown land.  On arrival, she was employed by a Mr. Anderson of Darneville for a period of three months at wages of 25 shillings.  I haven’t been able to find out if she extended her employment there, or moved on to another position.  

In 1859, Margaret married James Dewar in Geelong.  He was a Scotsman who was working as a quarryman.  The couple spent the next 11 years in the Geelong area where their first six children were born.  James then became involved in the lime-burning industry and they moved across to Rye on the other side of the bay where he was employed in the kilns.  My grandmother and her youngest brother were born there. 

By the mid-1870’s James and Margaret had moved again, this time to Waratah Bay to a new lime-burning venture where James was employed as manager.  This was an isolated location where contact in the early years of the settlement was only by sea.  It must have been quite a challenge for London-raised Margaret, coming from the comparative bustle of gold-rush era Melbourne and Geelong to adapt to this isolation, bringing up her children and educating them herself until a part-time school was established.  There is more about life at Waratah in the posts I wrote about James Dewar and Walkerville.

The only “memory” we have of Margaret comes from a grand-daughter, my father’s older 1st cousin, who wrote some memories of her childhood at Waratah in which she says her grandmother always wore a little lace cap.

Margaret passed away in 1898, after an illness of several days with bronchitis.  She was 63 years old. My great-uncle Fred wrote in his diary about hearing of the death of Mrs Dewar, and riding around the bay to pay his respects.  Margaret was buried in the little bush cemetery on the cliffs at Waratah, where her husband James joined her nine years later.





MARY HAUGHTON 1835-1884



Mary was my paternal grandfather’s mother.  She was born near Athy, county Kildare in Ireland, the second of six children born to Alfred Haughton and Henrietta nee Osburne.  The Haughton's were part of a large Quaker family, although it doesn’t appear that Alfred and Henrietta were practicing Quakers themselves.  Alfred owned the Ardreigh mill on the River Barrow just outside the market town of Athy, so Mary and her siblings were born into quite a privileged lifestyle.  

Her education would most likely have been at home, provided by a governess, although it is possible she may have attended a nearby Quaker school for some lessons.  Like most girls of her class, her education would have included art , music and embroidery.  A sketchbook belonging to Mary’s sister Sarah Anne is still in the family, and some of her sketches can be seen on this page.

At 23, Mary married Thomas Pilkington of Ennis in county Clare.  Earlier that year, her brother John had married Thomas’s sister Maria.  The Pilkington’s were minor Anglo-Irish gentry and Thomas acted as a land agent for the vast Connyngham estate.  He also served as Magistrate and JP on the local court circuit. 

After their marriage, Mary moved to her husband’s family home Waterpark, in Ennis.  The couple had nine children and unusually for the times, all survived childhood.  Mary’s life as the Lady of a small estate would have revolved around housekeeping, directing the servants, supporting her husband in entertaining, and a regular round of visiting local gentry. She would have also been involved in “good works” distributing charity to the poor.

This lifestyle came to an end for the family with the sudden death of Thomas in 1884, dying in his sleep from heart disease.  Eldest son Tom inherited his fathers estate as was normal for the times, however it transpired that Thomas had been living beyond his means for some time, and left a large debt with minimal assets.  Although the eldest two sons were already established with their own careers at this time, Mary still had three unmarried daughters aged 18 – 23, and four young sons between 7 – 17 years to bring up.  Thomas’s aunt Charlotte describes his passing in her journal, writing  “poor Mary and nine children, in an agony of grief”.
  
Following her husbands death and the change in her circumstances, Mary’s own health suffered.  She was 48 years old and only six months later, despite seeking treatment in Dublin, she died from an abscess in her kidney caused by a kidney stone.  According to the doctor on her death certificate, the duration of her illness was six months.  Mary was interred in a family grave at Mt Jerome Cemetery in Dublin.  Possibly due to the transport costs involved, she was not reunited with her husband in his resting place in Ennis. 



Tuesday, 7 February 2017

Walkerville … a Trove Tuesday post.


Tucked away in comparative isolation on Victoria’s southern coastline is Walkerville – one of my favorite places to visit.  Walkerville lies in the north-western curve of Waratah Bay, sheltered from the prevailing westerlies and providing a spectacular view across the bay to Wilson’s Promontory. 

This was where my grandmother grew up, and the place has always been special to me.  I doubt if there has been a single summer in my life which has not included a visit to Walkerville for picnics, beach rambles or a bushwalk. 

But Walkerville hasn’t always been a quiet place.  For a period of about 50 years in the late 19th & early 20th centuries, Walkerville was a thriving little community based on the important lime-burning trade.

Walkerville 2015 © K. Vincent

                                  
In October 1874, the following small paragraph appeared in The Age newspaper:

1874 article
                                          
NEWS OF THE DAY. (1874, October 12). The Age (Melbourne, Vic. : 1854 - 1954), p. 2.
                                                                    Retrieved February 4, 2017, from http://nla.gov.au/nla.news-article201532936




The article heralded the beginning of a new industry for the colony of Victoria.  Lime was in high demand for the building industry, and marble was mostly imported.  The area had been surveyed in 1868 by Lieutenant H. J. Stanley of the Admiralty & Colonial Marine Survey.  He had reported good anchorage in this south-west corner of Waratah Bay, except during south & south-easterly gales.


1868 map Waratah Bay SLV
      Stanley, H. J. (Henry James) (1868). Australia, South coast, Victoria. Waratah Bay. Hydrographic Office, [London] http://trove.nla.gov.au/work/8396398





Consequently, the ‘township’ of Waratah was proclaimed in February 1874, with a view to the area’s suitability as a port for servicing the gold diggings at Stockyard Creek (now Foster).
In May of 1875, a group of enterprising businessmen from Melbourne chartered the steamer Williams, leaving from Sandridge Pier for Waratah Bay to inspect the location.

 
1875 article
                                    
NEWS OF THE DAY. (1875, May 3). The Age (Melbourne, Vic. : 1854 - 1954), p. 2.
Retrieved February 4, 2017, from http://nla.gov.au/nla.news-article202135764


The full account of the trip, in the same edition, can be read here:  WARATAH BAY AND ITS LIMESTONE DEPOSITS




Marble Cliffs 



MARBLE CLIFFS, WARATAH BAY. (1875, June 14).
Illustrated Australian News for Home Readers (Melbourne, Vic. : 1867 - 1875), p. 84.
Retrieved February 4, 2017, from http://nla.gov.au/nla.news-article60446295


The group wasted no time in commencing operations, with the formation of the Waratah Bay Lime & Marble Company – just four months later, in September, Melbourne newspapers carried advertisements calling for tenders for the erection of lime kilns at Waratah Bay.
Advertising (1875, September 7). The Argus (Melbourne, Vic. : 1848 - 1957), p. 3.
Retrieved February 4, 2017, from http://nla.gov.au/nla.news-article7419065


The following year, Bright Brothers & Co., shipping agents, advertise for a vessel for the shipment of lime from Waratah Bay to Melbourne.





ad for ship 1876
                                      Advertising (1876, October 9). The Argus (Melbourne, Vic. : 1848 - 1957), p. 1.
Retrieved February 5, 2017, from http://nla.gov.au/nla.news-article5905249



download
                                                        
(1879). Loading lime, Waratah Bay. Alfred May and Alfred Martin Ebsworth, Melbourne  from SLV, originally published in Australasian Sketcher




Transporting lime by sea was not without danger, as the risk of fire was significant if the cargo should become wet.   The process of burning limestone in the kilns produces quicklime, a highly caustic powder which generates high temperatures when in contact with water.  The quicklime produced in the Waratah kilns was bagged for shipment to Melbourne, and if the ship encountered heavy weather at sea, the risk of water entering the hold and triggering the chemical reaction which would cause spontaneous combustion was significant. 


The history of the lime industry at Waratah is peppered with stories of fires on board ship.  The first recorded was that of the Phoenix in November 1876, shortly after Bright Bros. placed the above advertisement.

Phoenix fire 1876
                                                         
LOSS OF THE KETCH PHOENLY (1876, November 18). Weekly Times (Melbourne, Vic. : 1869 - 1954), p. 15.
Retrieved February 5, 2017, from http://nla.gov.au/nla.news-article220460919


Other similar events occurred over the following years:
1884 Gazelle  nla.news-article70043636
1886 John & May  nla.news-article9119108
1908 Meeinderry  nla.news-article10655073
1913 Centurion  nla.news-article7290275
1918 Wyrallah  nla.news-article7290275
1927 Defender  nla.news-article140800200

An article in The Age 5 February 1877, reporting on the voyage of HMCS Victoria to Sydney and return, mentions the jetty at Waratah being under construction.  


                                  
Walkerville jetty
from Pilkington family collection

My great-grandfather, James Dewar, was appointed manager of the new lime works.  The exact date of his appointment is not known, but first reference I have found to him at Waratah is 1878.

                                                                           
James Dewar 1829 - 1907
Manager of Waratah lime works
from Pilkington family collection

James Dewar was a Scotsman who came to Australia in the 1850’s, and probably spent time on the Central Victorian goldfields.  On his marriage certificate in Geelong in 1859, he is listed as a quarryman.  By the time my grandmother’s birth was registered in Tootgarook in 1874, his occupation was lime burner.  It is reasonable to assume he was at that time employed at the lime kilns in Rye. 

James Dewar continued as manager of the Waratah kilns until his death in 1907.  During that time, he also served as post-master, electoral officer and registrar for the little community.  Upon his death, his son Alexander Dewar succeeded as manager, and when he went off to World War 1, brother Jim took over.

Over the course of its history, the Waratah kilns changed hands several times.  The name of the original township of Waratah was changed in about 1890 to Walkerville, named after William Froggatt Walker, Commissioner for Customs, who was part of a consortium which took over the kilns from Bright Bros. in 1884.  Later, in 1892, ownership changed again to Andrew A. McCrae.  

                                                          
Walkerville kilns & jetty c1900
from Pilkington family collection

Increasing transport costs and competition from railways, combined with reduced demand from the building trade, eventually made production of lime at Walkerville uneconomical.  The kilns closed finally in 1926, although the nearby kiln at Bell Point struggled on for another year or so.  Following closure, and with no other employment opportunities in the immediate area, the workers and their families moved away, leaving Walkerville deserted.   Gradually, the bush reclaimed the surrounding area, and the jetty and kilns deteriorated.

deteriorating jetty - date unknown

from Pilkington family collection
                                                          
Today, Walkerville is a quiet little holiday destination, popular with campers and fishing enthusiasts.  Homes change hands rarely, and for premium prices when they do.  Apart from the ruins of the kilns which dominate the beach, and the little cemetery up on the cliff, there are only small reminders of the industry and activity which once took place.


Walkerville township from jetty 1928
from Pilkington family collection ©

One stone wall containing the fireplace and chimney is all that remains of James Dewar’s residence, and now forms part of the retaining wall on the roadside.  A few patches of nasturtiums and some pea-flowered climbers among the bush are relicts of the former cottage gardens.  Just a single timber pylon survives from the jetty which once curved 300 feet out into the bay.


                                                                      
great-great-granddaughters of James Dewar, with last remaining jetty pylon
© K. Vincent 2012
    
In recent years, efforts have been made to protect the remains of the kilns and prevent further deterioration.  Signage has been created to inform the visitor of the history and significance of the area.  A short climb along a steep path leads to the little cemetery where James & Margaret Dewar lie at rest with others from the early settlement.

                                                             

Walkerville kiln 2015  © K. Vincent









Tuesday, 10 January 2017

Getting to know Grandma


Evelyn Maude Dewar 1907


This is my beautiful grandmother, Evelyn Maud Pilkington (nee Dewar).  I never met her or knew her because she died just seven months before I was born.  I was given her name as my second name, an honour which was completely lost on me as a child.  Evelyn was not a name in popular usage during the 1960’s & 70’s, and I tried everything to disown it.  Why, oh why couldn’t I have been given a perfectly normal second name like Anne or Elizabeth, the second names of my sisters? 

My father’s family consisted of a large, extended network of 1st, 2nd and 3rd cousins with whom we maintain close ties to this day.  But I don’t recall my father speaking of his parents very much – and I, thoughtless child that I was, never thought to ask about them while I had the opportunity. 

Eve was born in Rye, Victoria in 1874.  She was the youngest of eight children of James and Margaret Dewar.  The family had moved from Geelong in about 1871, with James working as a lime-burner in the kilns at Rye. Sometime after Eve was born, likely around 1877, James was appointed the manager of a new lime venture along the southern coast at Waratah Bay.  So the family moved to the remote location where the little township of Waratah (now Walkerville) sprang up in response to the demand for lime. 

This was where Eve grew up, among the bush and beside the sea.  The settlement was only accessible by sea, and the community relied on the coastal steamers which plied the Victorian coast for all their requirements. Occasionally, Eve would travel on the steamer on its voyage east, being dropped home again on the return journey. 

Somehow, she acquired a small butterfly tattoo on her ankle, something which she apparently took great care to hide in her later years. 

As a young woman, Eve spent 4 years in Western Australia, where she went to housekeep for her brother Ted.  When she returned to Waratah after Ted’s marriage, she met my grandfather Charles Osburne Pilkington, who had recently arrived from Ireland to join his brothers in a farming venture at nearby Sandy Point.  They married in 1907.

When I was about nineteen, my father retired and my parents moved house.  Among the boxes which accompanied them was one containing a pile of old notebooks – my grandmother’s diaries!  I remember my mother saying dismissively, “Oh those old things – there’s nothing in there of any interest, all she talks about is the weather and what they ate for dinner.”  So the box of diaries was relegated to the back of a cupboard where they remained for the next 30 years, only being rediscovered when we cleared out Mum’s house after she passed away.

I took the box home with me, thinking I should have a look before just tossing them out.  And then I spent the next few weeks getting to know my grandma!  Yes, she started each days entry with the weather, and yes, she often commented on what they ate, but along with that was a wonderful treasure trove of her thoughts and feelings, friendships, family occasions and much more.

Through her diaries I learned of her anguish at losing her beautiful little baby – see A Little Bush Grave.  I read of her hopes and worries for her other children, my father and his two sisters, her heartache when  her beloved Carl, my grandfather, died in 1947.  I discovered a family rift I’d never heard about and how much that upset her, her joy when her children married, and when the first grandchildren came along.  Then her struggle to maintain the house and garden on her own as she aged, the inevitable decision to leave the home my grandfather had built for her, and her reliance on the kindness and generosity of family friends.  Throughout it all, her strong faith was evident, and her belief that the good and bad were all part of God’s plan must have helped sustain her through the difficult times.  Her last diary entry was just a few days before she died.

I now have a connection with my grandma that goes beyond sharing her name, and I know I would have loved her.

Eve & Charlie Pilkington


THE LEAVING
Eve stood in the doorway for the last time. She’d first come here as a bride 45 years ago. Built by her beloved Carl, it was a simple country house, weatherboard walls and corrugated iron roof containing a lifetime of memories. A widow now for five years, she knew it was time to go, but oh! the leaving was hard.
She wandered through the rooms, pausing here and there as memories arose. There was the old range, which had cooked so many meals for family and friends. There the cosy fireplace, around which cold winter evenings were spent. She remembered the musical evenings shared with the other families, and church services, held when the visiting minister made his rounds. Over here, the little room which had been classroom for the children before the men had built the school.
Standing on the verandah, scene of many summer gatherings, she looked out over her garden. It had become too much for her to manage on her own. The yard was sheltered by big cypress trees, planted by the children on a long ago Arbour Day as protection from the fierce easterly winds.
Her eyes were drawn to the path leading into the bush. Never again would she visit the little wooden cross marking the burial place of her darling baby.
Eve knew she would never return to this house. If she came back, it would be as a guest of neighbouring relatives. Resolutely, she picked up her bag and walked out the gate to the waiting car. No more was this home.
© Katrina Vincent 2016. Written for “Writing Family History” unit, University of Tasmania.
"Ennisvale", Sandy Point.

Tuesday, 28 June 2016

The Stranding of the ‘Strathgryfe’ … a Trove Tuesday post.


The barque Strathgryfe
Brodie Collection, La Trobe Picture Collection, State Library of Victoria

Captain Donald McIntyre stood studying the chart in front of him, following an imaginary line along which he had plotted their course.  This was his first voyage as master of the Strathgryfe, although he had previously sailed on her as first mate.  The ship had made a good run in ballast from Table Bay, enroute to Newcastle where she was to load a cargo of coal. 

The Strathgryfe was a 4-masted steel barque, of 2,200 tons, built in 1890 in Greenock, Scotland, for the Strathgryfe Shipping Company.  She carried a crew of 28, several of whom had been signed on in Cape Town.

They had passed Cape Otway at 10:30 that morning, where Captain McIntyre had taken his bearings and set a course through the notorious Bass Strait.  He’d taken into account the 7 degree variation in the ships compass, and expected to pass Wilson’s Promontory by sailing to the north of Curtis Island.  There had been a steady sou’sou’wester blowing all day, and now at midnight it was dark and blustery.  Hearing the look-out calling “land ahead”, Captain McIntyre tapped his finger on the dot on the map that was Curtis Island, before making his way on deck. 

Directing the helmsman to alter course around the island, he peered into the gloom, expecting to see the Promontory light off to his north.  With no light visible, his momentary confusion quickly changed to alarm when breakers became evident on the port side. Realising the danger, he made a quick assessment of his options, and took the decision to turn the ship into the breakers and head for the mainland beach.  With a lurch, the Strathgryfe ran aground in the sands of Waratah Bay.

With the light of day, Captain McIntyre and his crew were able to assess the situation and recognise their error.  The island in front of them had not been Curtis Island at all, but in fact Shellback Island, some 13 miles north of their expected position.  The ship had come to rest high on the beach, but at least she was upright, and there was no loss of life or serious injury.



 

Cape Otway
Waratah
Sandy Point
stranding of Strathgryfe
Shellback Island
Cleft Island
Curtis Island
Wilsons Promontory Lightstation
Port Phillip Heads




THE STRANDED BARQUE. The Argus (Melbourne, Vic. : 1848 - 1957)
12 April 1902: 16. Retrieved 28 Jun 2016



Fred Pilkington woke early as usual on Tuesday 8th April. After re-kindling the stove and placing the kettle on to boil, he left his brother Dan and cousin Charlie asleep and headed over the dunes to the beach for his customary morning swim.  It was a fine morning with the crispness of autumn in the air, and calm after the previous day’s blustery south-westerly.  The tide was out and he sprinted the length of the sand to the water.

After diving into the waves three or four times, he left the water and jogged east along the beach to dry off. Suddenly, he pulled up short, and stared ahead, hand shading his eyes as he looked into the early morning sun.  Quickly, he retraced his steps, pulling on his clothes as he ran, arriving back at the house just as the kettle boiled over on the stove.  Waking the lads, he shouted, “Wake up you lazy lubbers! There’s a full rigger ashore, under the hummocks, this side of the Darby River.”
 
Two days later, at the opposite end of the bay, the S.S. Whyralla tied up at the long jetty in the lime-burning settlement of Waratah.  The coastal steamer was a regular visitor, bring supplies to the little township and surrounding district, and transporting the bagged lime back to Melbourne. 

Today in addition to her usual cargo, the Whyralla brought a newspaper man, “special reporter” for The Argus, sent down from Melbourne to get the story firsthand.  Jim Dewar, son of the mine manager, was on the jetty that morning, overseeing the loading of the lime.  The paperman approached him, seeking transport around the bay to the site of the wreck.  Jim made some arrangement with him and the two set off along the beach, calling at Sandy Point on the way where Fred joined them.  Jim would need Fred for the row across Shallow Inlet entrance against the in-coming tide.  Once across the inlet, the trio had a good six-mile hike along the beach to reach the stranded ship. 

While the paperman made his way out to the ship to complete his mission, Fred stretched out on the dunes and lit his pipe, surveying the scene of activity in front of him.  Presently he was joined by one of the sailors, a fair, stocky Englishman of about his own age. Introducing himself as Jack Bridges, the man pulled a letter out of his pocket and asked Fred if he would see it posted to his wife in Cape Town.  Fred tucked the letter inside his jacket, ready to post with his own mail the next day. The two men exchanged some conversation, Jack relating his story of joining the Strathgryfe in Cape Town, where he and his wife owned a small hotel.  Jack had been struggling against the ongoing temptations of alcohol. He and his wife had decided time at sea might be just what he needed to remove himself from such temptations, and Jack was feeling and looking the better for it.  Alas for poor Jack, being set loose in Melbourne later was to prove too much for him!



FATAL POISONING MISHAP. (1902, May 9).
The Argus (Melbourne, Vic. : 1848 - 1957), , p. 6. Retrieved June 28, 2016,

Captain McIntyre was confident that by stripping her down, his ship could be re-floated without too much difficulty using the assistance of steam tugs.   He’d telegrammed the ship’s agents in Melbourne, and the owners in Greenock, seeking the necessary authorisation and assistance to achieve this.  The task proved to be not so straightforward, and it was not until the end of June that the Strathgryfe was eventually re-floated and towed back to Melbourne by the steam tug Albatross.  


THE BARQUE STRATHGRYFE. (1902, June 30). The Argus (Melbourne, Vic. : 1848 - 1957), , p. 6. Retrieved June 28, 2016,

In the meantime, leaving three men behind with the ship, the Captain and remainder of the crew were transported to Melbourne, where the crew were paid off, and poor Jack met his fate. 

On the 14th May, Captain McIntyre faced a Court of Marine Inquiry into the incident.  The  Marine Board found him guilty of serious misconduct and careless navigation, concluding that he had not taken into account the compass error when calculating his course.  His Masters Certificate was suspended for 2 months, and he was fined £15 for expenses of the inquiry. 

The Strathgryfe underwent a refit during the months of July and August.  When she eventually sailed on 2nd September for San Francisco via Newcastle, Captain McIntyre was once more in command.

Donald McIntyre's Masters Certificate 1892

Ancestry.com. UK and Ireland, Masters and Mates Certificates, 1850-1927 [database on-line]. Provo, UT, USA: Ancestry.com Operations, Inc., 2012.                 
Original data: Master's Certificates. Greenwich, London, UK: National Maritime Museum.


Note:
Fred Pilkington and Jim Dewar were to become my great-uncles, when Fred's brother Charlie married Jim's sister Eve in 1907.

References:
F. W. Pilkington, “Memories of Sandy Point”. Private family collection.
Board of Trade Wreck Report for Strathgryfe 1902 ID: 18373 out of copyright.  Portcities Southampton http://www.plimsoll.org/resources/SCCLibraries/WreckReports2002/18373.asp