Waves of Terror

Mrs Margaret Currie

1954

It has been a beautiful, warm, sunny day, and it was now seven oclock in the evening. My two young daughters were in bed when my husband, Dan, asked if I would like to go for a wee sail. He had been approached by a friend, Andy McCormack, to help ferry a tennis party back to Toward Point. Zelma, Andys wife, had invited the tennis party to Rothesay for a return match.

I was hesitant at first about leaving the children. Then two friends, Margaret and George, who were holidaying with us, persuaded me to have a wee while off, and they would look after the girls.

The two of us set off for the pier like a couple of school children it was a real treat getting out together. As we passed David Ferraris ice cream shop we bought snowballs to munch as we walked down High Street.

The boat, a converted ships lifeboat called The Roo, was tied up at the Kings Steps, and Andy was already on board with two lads out for the sail. Soon the tennis party arrived and, the usual bantering farewells said, Dan started the engine and we were underway.

As we passed the Montclare, the submarine depot ship which was anchored in Rothesay Bay, the engine spluttered a bit but soon cleared the obstruction. The wind had freshened quite a bit as we arrived at Toward.

Here Dan had to beach the boat owing to a lack of jetties. However, all eight passengers alighted safely, and with a lot of pushing and shoving, helped to refloat the boat. Then once again we were under way back to Rothesay pier.

We were about halfway across the bay when the engine spluttered, and this time Dan was unable to restart her. On closer inspection he discovered that there was one hold holding the engine casing to the desk, and the bilge water had flooded the engine. At this point, quite a few well chosen words passed between Dan and Andy, as Andy had assured Dan that the boat was in a seaworthy condition.

The air was getting colder and the swell deeper as we drifted out towards the Firth of Clyde. The tow boys set sail in the dingy to summon help from the Montclare, then darkness fell quite quickly and a great fear overtook me: all I could think of were my two small daughters. What would happen to them?

Then came the sickness. I found I could hardly lift my head I felt so ill. Maybe it was a good job I had eaten the snowball, at least I had something in my stomach to be sick with, and the oily smell coming from the engine did not help.

Andy was trying to drop the anchor, but the water was too deep to allow it to grip, meanwhile, Dan was up on deck attempting to make a windbreak with eh table he had taken from below, but without success: the gale was making it impossible for the table to remain stationary. Dan then asked Andy for the lamps to be lit, but unfortunately he had one Tilley lamp, and that was all. As he was lighting the lamp he broke the one and only mantle.

That was all we needed: we had no food, no navigation or other lighting, and we were drifting with the tide, and the water was becoming rougher by the minute. The dark shapes of the large ships looming over us was really frightening. The Firth of Clyde was very busy with large ships plying the seas, but there was nothing for it, we just had to ride it out.

The three of us must have dozed off for we were awakened by a voice shouting Ahoy there! It was skipper John Alexander of the Lothian Rose, and we were overjoyed and thankful upon seeing him and his crew. We were told later that the Skipper and crew were getting ready for the fishing at 4.30am but diverted from their course to search for us. They found us between Largs and Fairlie a fair distance from where we started.

During the gale we were unable to board the Lothian Rose and so we were towed back to Rothesay to our worried and then very relieved family and friends. We also heard later that a motor boat had gone out looking for us, without sighting us.

Arrived at Rothesay pier, as Dan was climbing the straight metal ladder, with his boiler suit tucked under his arm, the money fell from his pocket into the water plop! plop! plop! plop! It was the four half crowns given to him as a tip by the tennis party. Lucky white heather.

This is a true event which took place on Wednesday, 29th June 1954