A CHEQUERED
TRIP
A. Wyllie Blue, D.D.
Published by "The Campbeltown Courier"
1942
It was a good day on the 6th of June, in the middle nineties, when the Royal Mail steamer Davaar left Campbeltown for Belfast. The occasion was an excursion in connection with the celebration of Queen Victoria's birthday. That fell on May the 24th, but a few days out made no difference, and June the 6th was, I suppose, the most convenient date for our sea jaunt.
The Davaar in those days proudly carried her two funnels. Captain Samuel Muir was on the bridge. Mr. Allie Bain was Chief Engineer, Mr. Tom Tosh looked after the comfort of the saloon and John, the Mate, and big John McQuilkan, second Mate, were at their posts. I was Purser. This was a post on Clyde steamers mostly reserved for students. Mr. Ross Wallace, the Company's manager, was there, and the trippers represented every circle of the townsfolk from civic dignitaries to school children.
All were in holiday mood and looking forward to a day free from care and a pleasant sail across St. George's Channel and a jolly time in the great Ulster city. The sea was calm as we rounded Davaar Island and passed on skirting Kildalloig and Sanda. The cliffs of the Mull loomed large to the north-west and the sky above and the waters around gave no inkling of trouble, but things happen quickly at sea, and it was not long before a change befell. Without warning fog began its soft enveloping of sea and air. Among the passengers no one bothered. The Davaar knew her way through any fog. A fine old skipper who had smelt and eaten fog all his life was on the bridge and sharp-eyed look-out men were at the bow. The whole thing was in the day's work or play so far as the holiday-makers were concerned.
Down below Tom Tosh and the Steward staff were serving out snacks, and on deck our ever sure Campbeltown humour prevailed. It was a carefree company and they were bound for the land of the jaunting car, the land whose politics kept the House of Commons in a ferment, and the very northern province from which had come the founders of the Scottish nation.
The fog was thickening, speed was lowered and it began to be whispered that we might even be late, but with the Provost on board Captain Sam will be very careful. The hungry went below and those on deck commented "We'll get there all right, the Campbeltown boat always does, and there's Mr. Tolmie looking quite joko." We were going slow; Captain Sam was taking no risks. Suddenly from the look-out there was a shout "Breakers ahead!" and in an instant from the bridge rang out the Captain's command, "Hard aport," but we were on. The Davaar had struck and with sickening thuds she staggered, shuddering and grinding on and on, and stuck with perhaps twenty or thirty feet of bruised and dented hull clinging to the hidden rocks. No panic seized or threatened our passengers. If the faces of some were pale, they were quiet. The order had immediately gone out to clear the boats, and from the davits they were quickly freed and lowered. It took but a few minutes to serve the life belts. A joker, after the event told of one poor soul who fastened his belt round his feet. John the Mate, and big John MoQuilkan, deck hands and all down below did the work of men.
The tide was ebbing and the settling stern and an ominous slanting gave rise to fear that the ship would tear herself from the rocks with disasterous consequences I remember Mr. Bain coming up with a serious look on his face to report on matters in the engine room. Thank Heaven, the ship held. The siren was sounded all this time signalling our distress, and calling for help. It was impossible to tell our whereabouts, such is the trick fog can play upon the mariner. Soon, though unseen till she had almost touched us,a boat appeared with the information that we were on Brigg's Reef, off Groomsport, and to the south of Belfast Lough. That was something, it meant help.
The boats were lowered and the order of the sea, "Women and children first " maintained. There was no need to enforce it, and over into the boats went the women and children, the men sending words of cheer after them. I recall seeing two little fellows, about ten or twelve years old, standing near a boat gangway with tears showing in their eyes. Their mother had probably just been lifted over and they were immediately joining her. Just then, as a matter of routine, somebody said, "Don't hurry, women and children first." On hearing this, the wee fellows, who had been near the gangway, stepped back. They thought they were men. Brave lads. Quickly both were lifted over into the boat.
Everyone got safely to the shore. When all had left the Captain came down from the bridge to make sure that the decks were clear. It was a sore hour for the fine old sailor. What man could do he had done, and the Board of Trade Inquiry Court held afterwards exonerated him.
The passengers gathered on the beach. The Rev. A.M. Tolmie, MA., junior minister of the Highland Parish Church, was on board that day, and a right good man he was for such an occasion. The ministers on board took their full share in helping. A thanksgiving service was held on the beach. Mr. Ross Wallace, who had worked hard and well for the comfort of the passengers, made arrangements for conveyance from Groomsport to Belfast and home. The S.S. Dromedary was chartered and we all arrived at the Quay grateful for safety and sorry for the mischance that had befallen our steamer.
Harland & Wolffs people took charge of the Davaar, and she was floated and repaired, and for many years afterwards Campbeltown's good wishes followed her as she set out upon her journeys and warm welcome always awaited her on arrival at the Quay.
I often travel by the road skirting the beach at Groomsport, and at low water I can see that cruel reef upon which the Davaar struck years ago.
The Rev. A. Wylie Blue was for many years minister of the May Street Presbyterian Church in Belfast. His book "The Quayhead Tryst" tales of old Campteltown, is well known to Campbeltonians.
In 1940 when there was danger of invasion, the Davaar was taken to Newhaven on the south coast of England, and sunk as a block ship to protect the harbour. In 1943 she was beached on the Sussex coast and scrapped. Her sister ship, the Dalriada, also went on war service and ended her career there. Now Campbeltown no longer has the old company boats, and those of us no longer young think back longingly to the days when we had a daily sailing to and from the Clyde.
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