Life in New Zealand with a Stroke

by David G. Ray

This morning I went for a short walk to the beach just a few steps from our house seeking inspiration for a subject to write about given that the Lower Hutt Stroke Club is in recess for the Christmas/New Year period. A very strong northerly wind was blowing, a wind which gives Wellington its reputation as "The Windy City". As I looked over the beautiful harbour I was reminded of the morning of April 10 (the day before my wife's birthday) 1965. On that morning, in a horrendous storm, the interisland ferry "Waihene" capsized with terrible loss of lives. ("Waihene" means "woman" in the Maori language.) What follows is a personal account of that day.

The "Waihine" was one of two passenger ferries, which sailed overnight between Lyttleton, the port near Christchurch in the South Island and Wellington in the North Island. It was a modern vessel with modern navigational aids. It left Lyttleton on its 11 hour journey at 8pm due to arrive in Wellington about 7am on 10 April. During the night severe hurricane force winds arose which reached its peak of more than 120 miles per hour just the "Waihene" entered Wellington Harbour.

At home the roaring of the winds awoke my wife and me early and being a keen public servant, I caught my usual bus into Wellington from Eastbourne. Enid, my wife, took our school aged children to school at 9am and on returning home, listened to the radio which gave out the news that the arrival of the "Waihene" would be delayed but all on board were safe. However, on the advice of the schoolteachers, she went back to the school to bring our children home again. Enid then braved the strong winds and walked down to the sea front. She saw through the mist and rain that the ship was across the harbour but on its side, the other side being under water. She rang me at work to tell me not to believe the radio broadcasts and I decided to get the first bus that I could back home. News broadcasts still said that the ship was OK. You can't believe everything you hear on the radio,

By this time the road to Eastbourne had been closed by the strong winds and heavy large waves but eventually I heard on the radio that large vehicles, including buses, were getting through. Immediately I left my office and went to catch the bus, which was in fact just leaving. It took the bus over 3 hours to get to Eastbourne, a journey that normally took 40 minutes. On the way army trucks carrying stretchers and other rescue equipment passed us. When the bus reached the sea front we could see that the harbour was extremely rough. By this time the reports on the radio were giving accounts of the seriousness of the situation. Lifeboats full of passengers had been launched from the stricken vessel and were landing at Eastbourne and the beach at Seatoun across the harbour from Eastbourne.

When I got home and took a look at the situation I could see that the ship was on its side. Lifeboats had come ashore but some had capsized in the heavy surf and passengers were tossed into the sea.

The police asked me to patrol the shore next to were we lived in case any passengers came ashore there and this I did. I will never forget finding the body of one elderly man, stripped naked by the raging waves. Helped by other men, we called the police who arranged for the body to be removed. Later we found the body of a small child and this has had a profound effect on me till this day. That night the army brought huge searchlights onto the beach to help with the search. The next day the wind had died down and it was hard, looking at the calm seas, to believe the tragedy that had taken place the night before. But the sight of the huge ship lying on its side across the harbour reminded us of this. The sea can be very cruel even in the safety of a harbour.

Fifty-one people of the 735 passengers and crew on board lost their lives that morning.

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