Mino – “As rotten a ship as ever put to Sea”

Whites & Penrose slipways, Waterford. Andy Kelly Collection

On Saturday morning, 30th October 1875 the schooner Mino of Cheekpoint, Co Waterford was run ashore on the Wexford shore by her captain and crew.  Aground on the sandy shoreline the first wave to break over her stern carried the timbers away and this was quickly followed by her afterdeck.  As locals rushed to the scene, the crew who were huddled in the bow, were assisted ashore with the help of ropes and cared for in local homes.  The crew of the Mino were fortunate to have survived, but was this a case of bad weather, poor seamanship or something more sinister?

The strand at Ballyhealy – with thanks to Kev Somers. Erosion is a real problem in the area and we must assume that the Mino grounded further out from the present shoreline.
Ballyhealy on the map, located between Kilmore Quay and Carnsore Point

The Mino, was a 180 ton, two masted schooner, built in Prince Edward Island in 1858.   The schooner was advertised for sale in Liverpool in May of 1862 and was subsquently bought by Captain Thomas White of Cheekpoint, Co Waterford for £229.  In an advert of the time the Mino was described as “…a most remarkable vessel;  carries 140 tons, on 9 feet water; sails without ballast; takes the ground; is well  found in stores, and quite ready for immediate employment. This vessel is admirably adapted for the coasting trade, and sold in consequence of being too small for present owner’s use. Dimensions: Length 73 feet, breadth 20 feet , depth 9 feet ”[1]

White became the vessels master and used the ship in the coastal trade that she was so suited to, carrying cargo such as wheat and pit props from Waterford and returning with such staples as coal.  In 1872 it would appear that White stood down from his position and Captain Pat Brien of Wexford took command, followed by Captain Crotty, Captain Michael Barry of Cheekpoint and lastly, Whites brother in Law, Edward Kavanagh.[2]

Small promo here for Brian and Jacks new book. The launch will take place on Thursday Dec.12th at the Wexford Library at 7pm. The Book is a hardback cover 450+ pages with 300+ images,many in colour. A must for my Christmas stocking if anyone is looking for ideas!

According to Kavanagh the Mino departed Waterford (20th September 1875) for Cardiff with pit props and then to Newport to take on a 125 tons of coal.[1]  The departure was delayed for sometime due to weather and eventually they sailed on the 16th October for their stated destination, Cheekpoint, Co Waterford.  They put into Milford Haven on the 23rd due to “stress of weather”.  When they again set sail on the 29th October they again ran into heavy weather off the Smalls.  The Mino started to take water and although two pumps were manned, the water gained on them and the ship became unmanageable.  At 5am on the morning of the 30th October Kavanagh ran the Mino ashore on Ballyhealy strand.  Thanks to local assistance, himself and his crew were saved.[2]

Later that morning the scene was visited by William Coughlan the Collector of Taxes and Reciever of Wrecks at Wexford.  Members of the coastguard were also present and the condition of the wreck was immediately obvious to them.  The Mino had practically fallen apart and it would seem that Coughlan was determined to get to the bottom of it.  A shipwright from the Board of Trade was summoned and from the 6th-7th of November Robert Bell surveyed the wreck. He confirmed what most onlookers could determine for themselves, that many of the Mino’s timbers were in a rotten state.[3]

An advert from the front page of the Wexford People – Saturday 27th November 1875

 The wreck was eventually auctioned off but I could find no reference to the cargo of coal which was destined originally for a Mr Davis of Waterford.  If the schooners owner, Captain White, was feeling the loss of his ship and income, things were only going to go from bad to worse. 

Just after Christmas 1875 Captain White was summoned to appear at a preliminary hearing at the Callaghane Petty Sessions to explain why he should not be prosecuted under a charge of sending men to sea in an unseaworthy ship. The shipowner faced stiff questioning before the presiding magistrates—Hon Dudley Fortescue, chairman ; Sir R J Paul, Bart: Capt Armstrong, Capt Coughlan, P Fitzgerald, Esq, and G I Goold, Esq, R.M [1] 

I’m not aware of any photo of the Callaghane courthouse, but as we can see from this old OSI map, the building was located beside the RIC barracks after the present pub on the main Dunmore East – Waterford road.

It was decided that White had questions to answer and in March 1876 he appeared before Judge Barry in the Waterford Azzies where over two days he was tried by a jury of his peers.  The evidence was overwhelmingly against the man.  Both the coastguard and Receiver of Wrecks were clear as to the condition of the craft, his ex captain, Michael Barry explained how a Board of Trade official in Wales had cautioned of the ships unseaworthiness and that he had communicated this to White, prior to leaving the ship.  The master of the Mino Edward Kavanagh deposed that he thought the ship was fine up to the storm in the Irish Sea, but his evidience was undermined when it was revealed that he was a brother in law to White. Two other crew, the mate Michael Power, and a sailor named John Milton, stated they were unaware of any issues as regards the craft. Their evidence was all the more strange because arguably the most convincing prosecution evidence shown in court was parts of the ships timbers.[2]

In his own defence White gave a good account of himself, stating that he had skippered the ship up to four years previously when ill health caused him to withdraw. He had regularly had the ship overhauled on the Penrose Graving Bank in Waterford and had spent large sums to maintain the ship.  However, he could only provide three receipts for small repairs totalling £12 for the years 1873/4.  And he could offer no witnesses to vouch for the claimed work, despite the fact that they were supposed to take place in the city.  The judge, perhaps in frustration, asked White if he had a bad memory to which White replied “A very bad one”!  Two local businessmen spoke up on Whites behalf; Shipping agent Downey and corn merchant Thomas Quigley![3] 

Whites & Penrose slipways, Waterford.  Andy Kelly Collection
Whites & Penrose slipways, Waterford (Part of what is now the city’s North Quays. Andy Kelly Collection. On balance I would think this is the most likely location of the graving bank mentioned .
The Graving Bank I am most familar with in the city was located where the present Bus Station is based. Basically this was a portion of the shoreline that dried out when the tide ebbed and allowed workmen to overhaul a ship. Photo courtesy of Damien McLellan.
A ship in the graving bank in Waterford, listing in and allowing access to the hull

The jury retired but quickly returned with a guilty verdict.  Judge Barry sentenced Captain White to two months in jail and was reported to have stated that the Mino was as rotten a ship as ever put to sea!.  The irony was that if Kavanagh had not managed to ground the ship and save his crew, White would probably have never been prosecuted.  The Mino would be just another statistic of wrecks on the Wexford shore.

Postscript:

But that is not the end to my story.  I grew up with stories of Captain White and his extended family who lived in Dobbyn’s House, Cheekpoint.  The family had a strong connection with the sea, and as is often the case, were no strangers to tragedy. For example I was told that a son of the family died at Cheekpoint quay following a fall from a mast of their ship.  I can’t say that this was Thomas Whites son, or that the fall was from the Mino.  I have yet to find any proof.  But I did find one very sad and curious event that might change the readers opinion of this account.  For four years previously, a twenty year old sailor on the Mino was drowned in the Barrow following a boating accident.  His name was John White and he was described as the Captain of the Mino’s son. [4]   In the court case White stated that he had stood down as Captain four years before. Was this event the cause of his retirement as master? Ultimately was this the reason for his ill health?  In the modern era such an event would be considered important as regards the Captains mental health, and would almost certainly be used in his defence as a contributory factor. 

The Anderson/White/Hill family plot in Faithlegg

Thanks for dropping by and reading. If you have any observations, questions or extra information I would be delighted to recieve them, in the comments section below or by email to tidesntales@gmail.com. I publish a new story on the maritime heritage of Waterford harbour on the last Friday of each month. I also post daily updates on Facebook and Twitter. Andrew Doherty

Hell Hole Horror – wreck of the SS Kinsale

On Saturday evening, 23rd November 1872 the SS Kinsale grounded on the Wexford side of Waterford harbour at a spot known locally as the Hell Hole. It was an appropriate name for the events that were to follow and it resulted in one of the largest losses of life in the harbour. But it made headlines for an altogether different reason, a very untruthful one.

On Friday 22nd November 1872 the steamer SS Kinsale slipped her moorings in Cork and sailed out the River Lee on her return trip to her home port of Glasgow.  Already the weather was turning contrary and her regular 20 man crew realised it was going to be a rough passage early on, at least until the rounded the Tuskar, and more than one of them felt sorry for their 8 passengers, particularly the only lady, now huddled in a corner of the saloon.

SS Kinsale. Used with kind permission of Brian Cleare

The Kinsale was a ship of 383 tons, over 197 ft long and had been launched in 1865 in the Glasgow shipyard of Henderson, Coulborn & Co, Renfrew. She was registered in that city to the Glasgow, Cork & Waterford Steam Navigation Co. Her crew were regulars mostly from her home port and they knew the journey very well.  Although rigged with sails, she rarely used them, preferring instead her reliable and powerful engine lovingly maintained by her chief engineer, Edward Cooke.  Aboard she carried a general cargo including agricultural products such as butter, bacon, sacks of flour and casks of beer.

Once they rounded Roches Point at the eastern tip of Cork harbour the seas broke across her decks and struggled to clear the scuppers before the next wave crashed aboard.  As she continued along the southern Irish coast during that night the weather deteriorated further.  When off the Wexford coast the chief engineer came on deck and advised Captain Stephen Anderson that they needed to find shelter as his engines could not take much more punishment.[ 

Seaman Angus Nicholson reported on deck for his watch at about 3pm on Saturday 23rd and took the helm.  The Kinsale was handling badly and over the howling gale he struggled to hear the orders of Captain Anderson, who directed him to make for Waterford harbour to seek shelter. The navigation was well known to them as Waterford was on their regular three way route and the crew had only left Waterford on the 20th for Cork. Together on the open bridge they struggled to keep the salt spray from their eyes and to pick out the light of the Hook Lighthouse.  They were joined momentarily by the Chief Engineer who communicated hurriedly with the Captain, parts of which were clear to the seaman and did little to provide reassurance.  The engineer had a worried look on his face and although he had tried to nurse the engine as long as possible, it now needed urgent repairs.

By 4pm they had entered the harbour but the sailors could take little solace in his.  Known as the graveyard of a thousand ships, every man aboard knew there was still a way to go, and plenty of danger still.  Almost within line of Creaden Head, where the sight of Duncannon gave a hint of the welcoming safety of the upper reaches there was a sickening crash from below, as her propeller shaft finally succumbed to the tons of pressure forced on it by the sea.  The ship slowly dropped her forward momentum and wallowed in the heaving seas.  By then they were out of sight of Dunmore East and Duncannon was still a distance.

Captain Anderson must have been cursing his luck. He was not due to be aboard at all, his regular ship was in dry dock and he agreed to take command of the steamer on a temporary basis. Now he ordered his men to set the sails, and realising the dangers they rushed to their stations, but each time they tried to fix the canvas in place the sails were ripped away by the unrelenting gale.  It was blowing from the SSW and added to their troubles darkness was coming on.  Each sailor was soaked to the skin, freezing cold and acutely aware of their predicament as the seas and wind carried them relentlessly towards the Wexford shore.

A map of the lower harbour area

In desperation Captain Anderson ordered that the anchor be dropped and simultaneously he ordered the main mast to be cut away, in the hopes of easing the pressure on the anchor chain.  Alas they were still chopping when the chain parted, necessitating the second anchor to be readied.  At this point they were nearly upon the shore.  With the second anchor away and the mast about to drop the men had a moment of hope that there battle with the elements might have ended with victory.  Whether the anchor dragged or the chain parted will never be known, but the short respite was quickly ended as the stern of the Kinsale struck the rocks and the wind and waves quickly hastened her broadside and ashore.  Captain Anderson was seen clutching the rail surveying his doomed ship, resigned to his fate.

Although it was now each man and woman for himself, they were in a practically hopeless situation.  They were aground under a steep cliff on the Wexford shoreline known locally as the “Hell Hole” at Broom Hill.  Each surging sea shook the ship to her core and washed a mountainous sea over them and the cliff face.  To stay aboard wasn’t an option, but the shore held no cover.  In desperation many jumped more in helplessness than in hope, which others tried to negotiate ropes and fallen stays in the hope of reaching the rocks and a sheltered crevice.  Many were washed away in those early minutes.  Depending on where others made it ashore they faced a sheer cliff of rock or a wet and slippery vertical grassy climb, neither option was favourable, but it was better than the sea.  Perhaps they could hope that help was on its way.

Just a sample of the weekends fun in Wexford

Although the ship had been sighted earlier, her fate was not clear to many.  A duty coastguard stationed at the lookout at Dunmore East named Daniel Sullivan had spotted the ship earlier but as the ship was then making her way upriver he didn’t notice anything amiss.  As the Kinsale went further up she was lost in the storm and the gathering gloom.  Soldiers on duty at Duncannon Fort also spotted the ship but reported no concerns for the ship below them in the harbour.  But two local men at Harrylock on the Hook realised the danger the ship was in and one, John Ronan, left on horseback to alert the Coastguard at Fethard.

Other locals also ran to the scene in an attempt to give what assistance they could, but without the necessary equipment they could do little more that act as witnesses to the unfolding tragedy below them on the rocks.  In the dark and fearsome gale, getting soaked by waves and sea spray they reached out with their bare hands and offered what rope they could find in an attempt to assist the people below. 

SS Kinsale aground in the Hell Hole. Used with kind permission of Brian Cleare

The local parish priest described it as follows: “…the poor people of the locality; men, women, and children—risked their lives to save the ill-fated crew and passengers. The men were trying to fish them with whatever bits of rope they could find in the hurry of the moment, but they were found to be useless—too short and too rotten. Men and women leaned over the awful precipice, white with the foam, and drenched with the spray of the angry waves in hope of being able to save some of the sufferers at the manifest and imminent peril of their own lives….”

Realising that their fate was in their own hands, many of the shipwrecked men started to climb the cliff face, reaching out and finding in their desperation some foot hold or crevice in the rock to cling too. Ironically, for perhaps the first time that long day, the gale now played a positive role.  For the force of it, pressed their wearied bodies to the cliff.  In the dark it was impossible to know where each man was or at what point men lost their grip, their foothold or just the energy to keep going.

Three sailors managed to reach below the top of the cliff and found help in the hands of a local woman, Mary Lannon.  She managed to get two over the edge, before being joined by a married couple; Margaret and John O’Shea.  Margaret helped to get the third man over, while John ran for rope which he tried to throw over the cliff.  This was in vain, the force of wind drove it back, and so he unhitched a gate and tied it as a weight.  The rope however, was too short to reach the bottom.  The three sailors were brought to Byrnes farmhouse nearby and several errands were run to the local shop and neighbours houses to try make the men warm and comfortable with clothing and food.

Meanwhile the coastguard arrived on the scene, they had been slowed by a lack of a suitable carriage (it had been damaged previously, reported, but no repairs were forthcoming).  Their equipment was unloaded and efforts were made, but despite this only one other man made it to safety, Angus Nicholson, the man that had come on duty just as the ship turned to Waterford harbour in the hope of safety. He had a broken arm, and had managed to find shelter in a crevice. He reached the clifftop having been hauled up while he held on to a rope ladder.

The four men were reunited in Byrnes home where they were provided with every comfort. It was not until an officer of the Arthurstown Coastguard arrived to interview them that they learned that they were the sole survivors and that it was highly unlikely that any others had made it ashore – at least alive.

In subsequent days the loss of the SS Kinsale became an international sensation.  Despite the efforts of the ordinary people on the Hook that evening, the Freemans’ Journal although acknowledging a lone female, rounded on all the others in an accusation of being wreckers – that they did little to help, being too busy plundering the ship and that for days after were drunk on the spoils of beer casks that washed in on the tide. 

FEARFUL WRECK ON THE IRISH COAST. GREAT LOSS OF LIFE. DISGRACEFUL SCENES OF PILLAGE AND INTOXICATION. GALLANT CONDUCT OF A GIRL.[

Headline from the Freeman’s Journal

A local curate Rev Doyle PP of Ramsgrange took up the pen in response and countered the claims.  But anyone thinking he was just rushing to the defence of his parishioners would have been silenced by the subsequent inquiry held under the commissioners of the Board of Trade.  Witness after witness deposed as to the exemplary conduct of the local population, and their self-sacrifice on the night of the tragedy.

Then as now however, the media had a powerful role to play.  And that initial headline in the Freeman’s Journal created a seed.  Slanderous and damning, it fostered an image of the wreckers, a damnable label oft used by the powerful to pigeonhole the coastal dwellers who looked to the sea for their bounty and thought in natural to collect what washed in, as a gift of fate.  The wreckers of the coast was used to describe many the coastal community in 19th Century Ireland including on the Wexford and Waterford coast.  But that, as they say, is another story.

Several people have suggested over a long period of time that some of my blog readers would like to support my research costs. I don’t know that it’s feasible but I put together a short survey, totally anonymous, which I’d love you to consider completing.  The system I’m researching is an online platform called Patreon, which allows patrons to make a monthly donation to an artist, writer, etc that they enjoy. A patrons donation can be discontinued at any point, the amount reduced or increased. The survey is to help me decide if its worth researching the option and can be accessed via the link below

https://www.surveymonkey.com/r/TKG9H79h

This piece this morning is based on contemporary new articles, online searches and written material including: Waterford Chronicle Wed 18th Dec 1872 pp 2-3
Power. John. A Maritime History of County Wexford. Vol 1 1859-1910. P 148-152 Cork Constitution – Wednesday 04 December 1872; page 3 Freeman’s Journal – Monday 25 November 1872; page 3 Wexford People – Saturday 07 December 1872; page 6 Dublin Weekly Nation – Saturday 28 December 1872; page 5 Cork Examiner – Wednesday November 27th 1872; page 3 Freemans Journal – Saturday December 16th 1872; page 3

SS Valdura – a lucky escape

SS Valdura

On Tuesday 12th January 1926 the SS Valdura ran headlong onto the rocks west of Kilmore Quay at a spot appropriately known as The Forlorn (Crossfarnoge Point)  She had sailed from Baltimore on December 29th and was bound for Liverpool. [1] Her holds were filled with maize (Indian Corn).  The Valdura (1910) was a steel screw steamer of 5,507 registered tonnage and owned by the Valdura Steamship Co. Ltd., of Glasgow.

SS Valdura aground at the Forlorn, Kilmore Quay, Co Wexford.
Photo via Brian Cleare

She grounded under the rocket station and the coast guard and lifeboat were quickly on the scene.  However, the ship was wedged on the rocks, with a falling tide, in a light enough breeze and the crew were considered to be at no immediate risk.  The lifeboat stood down.[2]

On Wednesday 13th the powerful tug Morsecock left Cobh in response to the distress signals sent by the ship.  The plan was that a refloating attempt would be made. [3]  However this was a failure and was reported on later in the week “Plans to refloat  her on high tide yesterday proved futile. Mr. T. Casement, inspector of the Life saving service, has superintended the putting of life saving lines on the vessel with a view to rescuing the crew should it become necessary. The crew of the Kilmore Quay station are standing by for this purpose” [4]

A sense of the location of both the wreck and her position ref the Saltee Islands.
Buttermilk is close by the home tab. via Google Maps
Another treacherous spot to the east of Kilmore is St Patricks Bridge. At high water the glacial deposit that once stretched to the Saltee Islands is below water. The breaking seas are an ominous sight.

Professional assistance was called in and the Liverpool and Glasgow Salvage Association were engaged and attempted a refloat on the next Spring Tides.  However this was not a success, and with strengthening winds some of her tanks were flooded with seawater to hold her down and a decision was taken to await the next spring tides. At least no damage was reported beyond the initial grounding. [5]

In an effort to lighten the vessel it was decided to remove part of her cargo and to sell this to try recouping some of the loss.  It would appear the locals were employed to effectively dump the cargo over the side and onto the beach which was then bought by locals, and perhaps not only locals at auction.  For example here’s an advertisement from the Wicklow People[6]:

Maize as it lies on beach is now for Sale at 5s per 16 size corn sack, buyers to bring own sacks and to fill same. Persons buying quickly can get corn clean and free from sand. Terms—Cash. Mr. Thomas Sutton, The Hotel, Kilmore Quay, will give purchasers an order for corn on above terms, or same can he had from WALSH AND Corish MMIA, Auctioneers, Wexford and Taghmon.

With the ship now lighter and tides being right another attempt was made on removing the ship off the rocks in early March and she was reported as having entered Waterford harbour on Saturday March 13th 1926 under tow of tug Ranger.[7] 

A similar fate befell The Earl of Beaconsfield in 1884. She grounded close to Kilmore, was salvaged and towed to Buttermilk for emergency repairs. Seen here at Buttermilk, across from Cheekpoint.
Photo courtesy of Tomás Sullivan

I’m not sure about the next part of the process, but we do know that she was grounded at Passage East on purpose so that her hull could be checked and temporary repairs made.  I presume this happened before she was put to anchor at Buttermilk Castle where the remainder of her cargo was removed.  This appears to have taken some time, and again I’m presuming it was either trans-shipped to other vessels or to lighters, and perhaps both.  The next mention of the ship was in late April when she was spotted passing east of the Lizard being towed by the tugs Poolza and Hudson presumably to a shipyard for repairs[8].

Interestingly the last advertisement I could find for the sale of her cargo dates to April:  Seventh Sale. To Be Sold by Auction.  On 12th April, at 11 o’clock, at Kilmore Quay, Co. Wexford, 350 lots of Damaged Maize, in lots, as usual.   Terms–Strict Cash at Sale. WALSH AND CORISH, Auctioneers. It would appear the auctions were so regular at that point that there was no need for extra details to be supplied.  Of course this may have been a double edged sword.  Much of the maize was carted to Wexford town where the kilns of Staffords on the Customs House Quay was used to dry the grain.  However the smell was atrocious and local residents made complaints, but the County Medical Officer passed the grain as fit to use![9]


Found the following link to a modern day salvage which might suggest the techniques used to re-float the Valdura haven’t changed much

What I found most astonishing about the fate of the Valdura however, is that the weather stayed settled for as long as it did, 60 days. Another interesting mystery was a very obvious question of what the ship was doing inside the Coningbeg lightship and the Saltee Islands, considerably off her route. The answer to that seems to have been kept by the master.

No doubt her owners were relieved to have the ship back in action and the first mention I could find of her in operation again was October when she was discharging ten thousand tons of American coal at the Cattedown Wharves, in Plymouth.[10]

The owners sold her the following year and she survived until October 1942, when on route from Newfoundland in ballast to Australia she was wrecked in St. Mary’s Bay near Cape English, Nova Scotia.

As regular readers know, the blog is supported by a wide range of people who help me with various queries. This mornings would not have been possible without the help of Brian Boyce and his crew mates at the Rosslare Harbour Maritime Heritage Centre and particularly Brian Cleare for the image used of the grounded Valdura. For another account on the incident see John Powers Maritime History of County Wexford Vol II 1911-1969. Johns book and a wealth of other maritime titles are available to buy at the Heritage Centre. Open every Saturday afternoon, or other times by appointment


[1] Western Morning News – Wednesday 27 January 1926 p2

[2] Evening Herald (Dublin) – Wednesday 13 January 1926 p 1

[3] Ibid

[4] Evening Herald (Dublin) – Friday 15 January 1926 p 1

[5] New Ross Standard – Friday 19 February 1926 p 10

[6] Wicklow People – Saturday 27 March 1926 p 1

[7] The Scotsman – Monday 15 March 1926 p 4

[8] Western Daily Press – Saturday 24 April 1926 p4

[9]Roche. R. Tales of the Wexford Coast.  1993. Duffry Press.  Enniscorthy.

[10] Western Morning News – Friday 15 October 1926 p 8