The story of the sv Andromeda, from it's launch to it's wrecking near Falmouth.

1. sv Andromeda (1915)
sv Andromeda was built in Glasgow by Robert Duncan & Co. Ltd and completed in April 1890.
Propulsion: Sail. 4 masts
Launched: Wednesday, 23/04/1890
Built: 1890
Ship Type: Steel barque
Ship’s Role: Cargo
Tonnage: 1928 g |1822 nrt
Length: 271.35 feet
Breadth: 40 feet
Draught: 23.6 feet depth
Owner History:
George F. Smith, Saint John, New Brunswick.
1895: Mrs W. Smith (manager, A. W. Adams), Saint John, N.B.
1901: Black, Moore & Co, London – Andromeda Ship Company (manager, Robert Moore), London.
For 10 years she operated from eastern Canada, before changing owners and sailing from London as
part of the Andromeda Ship Company. This was the era of steamships, but Andromeda held her own
against them despite being powered only by wind. One factor enabling this was her use of cadets,
who made up about a third of her crew. Cadets could be paid considerably less than experienced
seamen, allowing Andromeda to keep costs down. The cadets profited from their time on
Andromeda through the training they received.
The “Andromeda” was last dry docked at Belfast, in October, 1913, just before starting on the
voyage that ended with the wrecking. She was in good order and condition, and carried two life-
boats, seven life buoys, about 40 life belts, three dozen blue lights, and a dozen distress rocket
signals. Two other boats had been lost early in the voyage. The two boats remaining were capable of
carrying 29 and 27 persons respectively, and were on skids aft, under davits, their after ends resting
on the break of the poop.
There were seven compasses on board; the navigating compass, made by McGregor, being placed
on the fore and aft bridge. This had not been adjusted for some years, but the master made the
necessary observations for deviations from time to time. She had two patent logs (one a Cherub),
and a Walker sounding machine; and she was supplied with Admiralty charts and sailing directions.
At the time of the casualty the master was navigating with Chart No. 2565, Lizard to Dodman Point,
and was using directions from the “Channel Pilot,” Part I.
In September 1914 Andromeda was in harbour at Tacoma, Washington, on the western seaboard of
the USA. War had been under way for about a month, and merchant ships feared being captured or
sunk if they ventured out of harbour. As a precaution, all ships had been ordered to stay in port.
However, James Deeks, captain of Andromeda, decided to risk the voyage and requested to leave
port. Andromeda sailed for Britain on 6 September, her hold full of 3,000 tons of wheat that could
be vital to the war effort. Her destination was Falmouth for orders. It was a testing journey – a 120
day voyage lengthened to a nerve wrecking 180 days when the ship was becalmed twice, once off
the tip of South America and once in the tropics.
Somewhere west of the Scillies, the master reported to an armed patrol vessel, the officer in charge
of which undertook to send a wireless message to his flagship and to Poldhu, to the effect that the
“Andromeda” was making for Falmouth. Having been warned by the officer to keep a look out for
enemy submarines in the Channel, the “Andromeda” then proceeded. At 10.30 p.m. of the 12th

2. February the Lizard lights were abeam, at an estimated distance of about 5 miles. No measures
appear to have been taken about this time to ascertain or to verify the position of the vessel, but the
master’s estimate of it must have been approximately correct. The barometer was falling slowly,
with the wind from S. to S.S.W., weather clear, but with occasional rain squalls, and with lightning
to the South. Here the course was altered to N.E. by E.N.E. (magnetic); the ship then being under
topgallantsails and courses. On nearing Black Head about 11.30 p.m., and subsequently at frequent
intervals, blue lights were burnt for a pilot. Sail was here reduced to topsails, foresail, inner jib, and
fore topmast staysail. Black Head was passed at a distance of about 2 miles; and off Black Head the
master ascertained his position by bearings. The wind was then freshening fast, the sea rising, and
the barometer falling slowly. At 1.30 a.m. the vessel, which had been steering various courses, was
heading for Falmouth Harbour, with St. Anthony’s light slightly on the starboard bow, and had
reached a position, as obtained by cross bearings, 4 miles from the Manacles light, which then bore
W. by S. Here sail was still further reduced to upper topsails, inner jib, and fore topmast staysails;
the lower topsails being taken in.
About 2 a.m., the vessel then being, according to the Master’s estimate, about 2½ miles South from
St. Anthony’s Point, and the signal for a pilot being still unanswered, she was brought to the wind
on the starboard tack, heading E.S.E. Soon afterwards a cast of the lead was obtained; but as the
vessel was making so much leeway the result, 10 fathoms, was unreliable.
About 2.30 a.m. the vessel, breaking off to E. by N., and St. Anthony’s light being shut in, the
master, afraid of being stranded later on the Bizzies, wore her round to the westward, and the fore
sheet was hauled aft to assist in driving her, in order to weather St. Anthony’s Point. About 3 a.m. it
was seen that this was impossible. Another cast of the lead gave 9 fathoms. The land was soon
afterwards seen, close to leeward, and the master, as a last resort, decided to anchor. The topsails
were lowered, the foresail was hauled up, and the master ordered the anchors to be let go, cables to
be checked at 70 fathoms and then veered to 100.
Shortly after anchoring, and when 75 and 60 fathoms had been veered on the port and starboard
cables respectively, the anchors dragged, and the vessel struck by the stern, about 3.35 a.m., falling
off broadside on to the rocks, heading to the westward, under Porthmellin Head, about 1 mile to the
eastward of St. Anthony’s Point.
After striking she started pounding heavily on the rocks, and took a list to seaward, heavy seas
breaking over her. Life belts, which were kent, some in the half deck and some in the forward sail
locker, in racks, were served out directly the vessel struck, the boats were ordered to be hoisted out,
and rockets were sent up at intervals.
Attempts were made to hoist out the boats, and an apprentice named Reginald Hockridge was sent
into the port boat to place compass and gear. When he was in her, the after end became detached
from the davit and the boat hung by her fore end. This in turn broke loose, and she remained
hanging alongside by the painter. Hockridge was thrown into the water, but though severely bruised
between the boat and the ship, managed to cling to the boat’s gunwale, and later, as she was swept
astern, was washed into her.
The boat was eventually thrown on the rocks close inshore, bottom up, with Hockridge beneath her;
but another sea lolling her over, the apprentice was released. Scrambling along the rocks he reached
and scaled the cliffs, made his way to some cottages near, and tried to arouse the inhabitants. Failing
in this, lie took shelter in a barn, where lie remained until daybreak, when a rocket party of soldiers,
police, and boy scouts arrived upon the scene.
The starboard boat had been swung out and lowered to the rail; but being badly buffeted by the sea
in this position, was again hoisted close up. The sea lifting her, the foremost fall then became
detached, so that she hung by the after tackle, and was eventually smashed against the starboard
side of the vessel.
The crew now took to the rigging; some five or six of them being in the fore rigging and the

3. remainder, including the master, the three stewardesses, and McDonald A.B., making for the jigger
rigging.
Hearing a cry from the main deck, the master, McDonald and the cabin boy, Lindsey, made their
way forward, with the intention of affording assistance.
They reached the break of the poop, when a heavy sea swept over the vessel, injuring the master;
and McDonald, who had a life belt on, was not seen again. A few minutes later he was missed by
those in the jigger rigging; but it was not till some time after daybreak, and after the rest of the crew
had got ashore, that it was definitely ascertained he was not amongst those who had been saved.
Two days later the ship was boarded and examined by the master and others but no trace of
McDonald was found, and it must be presumed that he was swept away and drowned in the
circumstances above described.
The board of trade inquest stated:
“Relying upon the promise of the officer of the patrol vessel to send in a wireless message as to his
approach, the master unfortunately believed, and continued till too late to believe, that a pilot was
coming out, though the fact that he had received no answer to his frequent signals for a pilot
pointed to the conclusion that the pilot cutter was not on its station. Acting on this initial error of
judgment, perhaps a natural one for a tired man who had been 30 hours continuously on duty on
deck, he decided to continue his course and to clew up and make fast the lower topsails; a proper
and seamanlike decision if he were running into harbour, but a dangerous one, when as happened,
no pilot was obtainable and no attempt was made to run in without one. The prudent course under
the circumstances obtaining at 1.30 a.m. would have been to have kept the sea under a press of sail;
but his implicit reliance on the wireless message of the patrol officer, the warning as to submarines,
his knowledge that pilotage was compulsory at Falmouth, his anticipation that the harbour was
mined, and his confidence that a pilot would come aboard, combined to mislead the master and to
induce him to take risks which, under normal conditions, in all probability he would have avoided.”
The Falmouth lifeboat was summoned about 5.30 a.m., but was unable to complete her crew. Two
men were short, but one volunteer was forthcoming in the person of the Second Mate of the French
barque Asniers, and he, curious to relate, thus served in the same lifeboat which effected his own
rescue recently [1914] when his vessel went ashore in the harbour. The Falmouth lifeboat found it
impossible to get alongside the barque.
The Andromeda went ashore at 3.35 a.m. and when Captain Deeks [the last on board] got ashore it
was half past eight. He had been 23 years at sea, the last 12 years on the Andromeda, it was his
home and it was the first wreck he had had.
The ship’s papers were in a grip bag, which the master entrusted to his wife, and which she in turn
handed to the cabin boy. When on the poop, before getting into the rigging, the latter was knocked
down by the sea and the grip bag and its contents were lost. The chart house was also washed away,
and in it a kit bag containing the charts which had been in use. None of the ship’s papers were
therefore available for the purpose of the Inquiry.
On the 15th February, it was found that “the cabin had been broken up, the hatches smashed in, and
the chart house broken to pieces and gutted out.” As described by one witness, “Everything was
smashed;” and the vessel was finally abandoned.
A research project by Mark Milburn, for the BSAC Wreck Award project.

4. References:
The Advertiser (Adelaide, SA : 1889 – 1931), Tuesday 6 April 1915, page 10
Weekly Times (Vic. : 1914 – 1918), Saturday 20 February 1915, page 36
The Bathurst Times (NSW : 1909 – 1925), Tuesday 16 February 1915, page 2
The Advertiser (Adelaide, SA : 1889 – 1931), Tuesday 6 April 1915, page 8
The Register (Adelaide, SA : 1901 – 1929), Tuesday 30 March 1915, page 11
Board of Trade Enquiry
Wreck and Rescue around the Cornish Coast
Shipwreck Index of the British Isles Vol.1 (SIBI)
Wrecksite.eu