This image from the collections at Te Papa and Illustrated Australian News - Melbourne Vic -1876-1889 Saturday 10 June 1882, shows the wreck of the Benvenue Ship and the City of Perth which was later refloated.
By Roselyn Fauth
Before the breakwater. Before the port cranes. Before Timaru’s skyline included anything but masts and smoke, there were men who waited for cannon fire.
Not the kind fired in war, but the signal gun that told them someone was in trouble at sea. They were bakers and blacksmiths, farmers and clerks. But when the Harbourmaster’s signal sounded, they became something more. They were the Rocket Brigade.
Timaru in the 1870s and 1880s was not the safe harbour we know today. The coastline was treacherous. With no protective wall, ships had to anchor in open water, exposed to unpredictable swells. These huge waves often came without warning, sent from storms far out at sea. In calmer weather, they could arrive silently. In a gale, they were unstoppable.
Within two decades, almost forty vessels were wrecked or stranded near Timaru. The port became known internationally as a dangerous place. Shipmasters and insurers at Lloyd's of London were wary. Sometimes crews could not even respond to the Harbourmaster's flag signal ordering them to stand out to sea. Their anchors dragged, cables snapped, and ships were driven ashore.
Smaller vessels might be flung onto the beach, only to be refloated later. Larger ones were often smashed to pieces. The risk to life was enormous.
To meet the growing danger, Timaru formed a volunteer Rocket Brigade around 1867, shortly after a supply of rescue rockets arrived from England. These rockets could fire a light line from the shore to a ship in distress. The crew could then haul over a stronger rope and set up a breeches buoy system. This allowed sailors to be pulled to shore, one at a time, in a lifebuoy with canvas trousers.
The Harbourmaster was the official captain of the brigade. His lieutenants included men like J. E. S. Jackson, A. Shirtcliffe, F. Clarkson, and C. G. Vogeler. When the signal gun fired, they responded as quickly as today’s firefighters do when the alarm rings.
In addition to the Rocket Brigade, Timaru had the Alexandra, a large self-righting lifeboat donated to the New Zealand Government by Baroness Burdett-Coutts. After being sent first to a North Island port where it was not needed, the boat arrived in Timaru around 1870. It was named after Princess Alexandra, the young wife of the Prince of Wales. Though only used in three known rescues, the Alexandra played a vital role in one of the most tragic days in Timaru’s maritime history.
Since its retirement in 1882 the lifeboat has been a memorial to those who manned it and those it rescued. Named after the wife of King Edward VII, Alexandra of Denmark, the Timaru lifeboat is one of the oldest vessels of its type in the world.
This painting shows a life that was led by the wealthiest in England at the time. A stark contrast to the emerging English colony in Timaru of the 1860s. In the center is the Baroness reffered to in Hacons letter. After reading this letter, I wondered who was Angela Burdett-Coutts? Did she really give us a lifeboat? Was this the Alexandra Lifeboat we know today?
Right: By Alfred Preston Tilt / Archibald Preston Tilt / Arthur Preston Tilt - wellcomeimages.org Collection gallery (2018-03-23): wellcomecollection.org/works/f5ppm5wp CC-BY-4.0, CC BY 4.0, commons.wikimedia.org
The Worst Day: May 14, 1882
The most devastating rescue attempt in Timaru’s history took place on a deceptively fine autumn Sunday in 1882. The sun was shining. The air was still. But out at sea, a massive swell was rolling in, the heaviest sea ever recorded at Timaru at the time. Two large iron sailing ships, the Benvenue and the City of Perth, were anchored offshore.
Captain Belfield Woollcombe who was the first harbourmaster before the current Captain Mills took over, looked out across the bay and said to his daughter Laura, “If the ships don’t get moving, they’re going to be in real trouble.” He wasn’t wrong.
As the day went on, the Benvenue began to drift toward the shore. The Rocket Brigade prepared to act. The crew of the Benvenue abandoned ship and transferred to the City of Perth, which soon also began drifting. By 2 pm, the City of Perth's crew had launched four boats and reached land safely. But then came the decision to that put safe men back on the water. In an attempt to save the City of Perth, the Harbourmaster and ship’s officers rowed back out in a landing services whaleboat to the drifting vessel. When they realised nothing more could be done, they turned back and nineteen men were thrown into the Caroline Bay when three rescue boats capsized, one after another, overwhelmed by waves.
The Alexandra lifeboat was launched by volunteers from shore. She was overturned three times while trying to rescue the men in the surf. The rescuers themselves became part of the crisis.
The wrecks at Timaru, New Zealand: Lifeboats rescuing sailors in heavy surf, one life boat named City of Perth. . Wood engraving by Ashton, Julian Rossi, 1851-1942 slv.vic.gov.au/permalink/f/1cl35st/SLV_ROSETTAIE670476
Most heartbreaking of all, the City of Perth did not actually wreck. She simply drifted gently into the side of the already-wrecked Benvenue and remained intact. Had the men stayed aboard, no one would have died. No rescue would have been needed.
Hundreds of Timaru residents watched helplessly from the cliffs. When the boats overturned, people ran to launch the lifeboat. Others tried to help in a heavy iron surfboat, which became stuck. Some men swam through the surf to reach it. The Alexandra, crewed and re-crewed several times, kept going back. One lifeboatman was lost, but many lives were saved because of their determination. By nightfall, the sea had calmed, the City of Perth was resting against the shore, and the town was forever changed.
Today, a graceful Wreck Monument stands near the Timaru Post Office, bearing the names of the nine men who died and the forty-three who risked everything to save them. Among them were Rocket Brigade volunteers, lifeboat crews, and townsfolk who jumped in to help. Fragments of the Benvenue for many years lay buried under the sand beneath the cliff, and used to be visible at low tide.
In our modern world, emergency services have radios, helicopters, GPS. But in 1882, all Timaru had were its people, and their bravery. The Rocket Brigade and the Alexandra lifeboat crews were ordinary individuals who became extraordinary under pressure. They didn't wait to be told. They ran to the beach.
They launched into chaos. They held the rope. Their legacy is not just a monument or a rusted shipwreck. It lives on in the spirit of a town that has always faced the sea, and in the stories we choose to remember.
These were heroes on the shore.
The events of May 14, 1882, were personal. Behind every statistic was a name, a family, a story. The Wreck Monument near Sophia Street, erected in 1885, honours nine men who lost their lives in the rescue attempts, and forty-three others who risked everything to help.
The stone bears a powerful quote: “Greater love hath no man than this, That he lay down his life for his friends.” Each man listed gave his life not because he had to, but because he chose to step into danger for others. They were working class men, many of whom were locals, some left behind wives and children. Here are their names, and what is known of their fate:
At the top of the Timaru Cemetery, with a view to the pacific ocean lies the grave of Captain Alexander Mills (1833-1882). While he witnessed is story is bound to the lifeboat Alexandra and to one of Timaru’s darkest days — the wrecks of the Benvenue and the City of Perth in May 1882.
Those Who Lost Their Lives
Captain Alexander Mills, Harbourmaster – died of exposure an hour after reaching shore. A leader to the end.
Robert Gardiner, second mate of the City of Perth – drowned.
John Blacklock, first mate of the City of Perth – survived the water but died later of injuries, including a leg broken in two places while clearing the cables.
Donald McLean, carpenter of the City of Perth – drowned.
William McLaren, local waterman from Timaru – drowned.
Emanuel Neilson, boatman from Timaru – drowned.
Martin Beach, boatman from Timaru – drowned.
Harry McDonald, boatman from Timaru – drowned.
George Falgar, surfboat crewman – drowned when the surfboat capsized; his was the only death from the surfboat crew.
Dozens of others risked their lives in both the lifeboat Alexandra and the heavy surfboat. Some of the names recorded in the rescue effort include:
Lifeboat crew members: L. Bradley, A. J. Mclntosh, Andrew Shinnab, John Isherwood, J. Houlihan, Patrick McAteer, David Watson, Thomas Martin, and later crews including F. McKenzie, J. Le Roy, H. Trusseot, C. Vogeler, and A. Blaylock.
Surfboat volunteers: George Falgar (deceased), R. Wilson, William Oxby, J. Passmore, T. Hart, J. Croeomb, J. Thompson, W. Halford, W. Walls, T. Morgan, W. Budd.
The crew who rescued the surfboat crew after their own capsizing: G. Findlay, C. Grulnn, G. Sunnaway, J. Cracknall, H. McDonald, J. Henicker, A. Turnbull, J. Ivey, G. Shirtcliffe.
It’s likely that some of these men had never trained together, had never faced such a sea, and knew full well they might not return. Still, they went.
https://youtu.be/PRz-c_wGYso?si=DTHR-w3WN3eZWUvC
The Coronation Procession Timaru. Heroes of the Wrecks. Unused picture postcard featuring the lifeboat Alexandra entitled "The Coronation Procession Timaru. Heroes of the Wrecks", dated 22 June 1911. Features the lifeboat being drawn by a four-horse team on Craigie Avenue, Timaru, turning onto North Street. WF No3 South Canterbury Museum timdc.pastperfectonline.com/852999445251
I often pause at the shipwreck memorial near the sea. It marks a time of deep local sorrow, when the Benvenue and City of Perth were wrecked in 1882 and lives were lost just off the Timaru shore. The lifeboat Alexandra and her brave crew are remembered too. Their rescue efforts were courageous, even though the outcome was heartbreaking.
Not long after, the people of Timaru raised funds to build a memorial. The obelisk that stands there today is made from striking red granite brought all the way from Scotland. It was landed by surfboat and placed on a solid base of local basalt in 1885. It still feels like a quiet promise that those lives would not be forgotten.
In 1955, another tradition began with the first Seafarers’ Service. It was held to mark 150 years since the Battle of Trafalgar, but it quickly became something more. Today the service honours all those with ties to the sea. Naval cadets, merchant mariners, the Royal New Zealand Navy, and everyone lost to the water are remembered. Each year, people gather by the memorial to lay wreaths, then walk together to St Mary’s Church for a service. It is a simple act, but it speaks to our deep connection to the sea and to each other.
Crowds assembled at the Benvenue Wreck Memorial, Timaru, for the 50th jubilee of the event in May 1932. The crowd appears to be being addressed by dignitaries from on the lifeboat 'Alexandra'. Handwritten on verso "14th May Jubilee 1932" - South Canterbury Museum.You can see in the photo the obelisk on Sophia Street in Timaru remembers and recognisers the nine men who lost their lives and were heroes in rescue attempts. The tragedy shocked the town and the community commissioning medals for the rescuers and fundraised to support the families of those who died and to raise this Scottish pink granite obelisk on a Timaru basalt base monument as a tribute.
My Reflections on Responsibility
What breaks my heart most is that the City of Perth didn’t even wreck. She simply drifted into the side of the already-wrecked Benvenue and lay there, intact. Had the men stayed aboard, we would have seen less deaths and a rescue may have not been required. I think the real tragedy didn't unfold in a stormy sea, but in a series of decisions made under great pressure.
There was plenty of public scrutiny afterward. People wanted to know who was to blame. Some pointed at the Harbourmaster. Others blamed the boatmen. But when I look at the wider context, I find myself returning to the Harbour Board. I believe they carried much of the responsibility for what happened. They had been urging ships to anchor closer to shore in order to make Timaru more competitive by speeding up cargo handling. It was a matter of efficiency. Quicker unloading meant better trade. But that pressure came at a cost of lives, cargo, ships and reputation.
Timaru was gaining the reputation as a “ships' graveyard.” The Harbourmaster, Captain Mills, would have been deeply aware of that. I imagine he was under enormous pressure to prove the port’s reliability. Perhaps he believed saving the City of Perth could change the story. I do not think he acted out of recklessness. I think he acted out of duty.
If those ships had been anchored further out, they might have had more space to ride the swell or tack to safety. But Timaru seas are often rough in a clear blue sky day with little wind. This rescue mission wasn't in a thunder storm, just a huge sea. Without enough wind, and without room to manoeuvre, a ship close to shore could be lost as soon as her anchor failed.
It was a political tug-of-war that Captain Mills was caught in the middle of. Efficiency vs safety. The drive for efficiency clashed with the reality of a powerful coast. And in the end, the sea reminded Timaru that it will always have the final word.
I fell for Mills' family, who in grief had to deal with this conversation. I wonder how they managed.
Based on this account: https://paperspast.natlib.govt.nz/newspapers/THD19140611.2.64.19
Timaru Herald. 13 July 1928 Page 9 (Supplement). paperspast.natlib.govt.nz/.../timar.../1928/07/13/25
