How one ship’s tragic loss changed Australian maritime law

It took over 40 years and all of his shipmates have since died, but Mick Doleman finally broke his self-imposed silence when he spoke with Ann Jones on ABC Radio National in November 2015. There were many reasons for his four-decade discretion, not least a desire that no part of the story sound like an act of bravery.

The evening of Saturday 13 October 1973 was fine and clear. Blythe Star, a small freighter only 40m in length, and loaded with bagged super-phosphate and kegged beer for King Island, slipped her moorings and set off, carrying 350 tonnes of supplies so essential for the island’s well being. The sea was calm with a long rolling swell and the forecast for the little ship’s two day trip about as good as it gets.

What no-one knew, as there was no premonition of danger, was that by the following day they would begin an 11-day odyssey in a raft and would see three of their number die, with authorities having no idea where to look for them.

Everything about the trip was going well. Mick Doleman, the baby of the crew at only 18 years of age, had done his 2:00am to 4:00am turn at the wheel on the Sunday morning and was below deck, asleep in the cabin. At about 8:00 or 8:30 am, Blythe Star took a sudden list to starboard. She seemed to correct but then listed again and, as Doleman said, “…just went over. I looked out my porthole and all I could see was salt water. I could hear water coming in. It sounded like a torrent.”

Within ten minutes, Blythe Star thrust her bow high in the air and sank stern first. The crew of ten had no chance to launch lifeboats but did manage to get the round, inflatable three metre lifeboat clear. All of the crew made their way on board and their mood was initially buoyant. That was until one of the men asked the captain if he got a distress signal away; the answer was delivered in the negative because the captain hadn’t been on the bridge at the time of the sudden list and was unable to make his way back.

Not only had they not managed a distress call, the emergency radio was well on its way to the sea floor with the ship, too. Oh well, it wasn’t too bad. They had supplies including tinned water, dry biscuits, a few flares, two oars and a bucket with which they could bail. They expected to be spotted and taken to Maatsuyker Island as early as that evening, but it was not to be.

There was a complication. Leaving Hobart for King Island, the ship could head up the east coast or the west. At that time, there was no requirement to notify port authorities which route they would take, so nobody knew where to start looking. On top of that, there was no concern until she failed to reach King Island. As Ann Jones commented, “(Authorities) were looking for a needle in two haystacks.”

The third night was a bad one because, at first light on the fourth morning, they realised the second engineer, John Sloane had died. He had a medical condition and was unable to retrieve his medication as his ship sank. Still believing rescue no more than a day away, or at most two, they kept Sloane’s body on board. By the end of another day, with hopes of rescue fading, they gave him a burial at sea. It seemed only fitting that the engineer’s socks and singlet should go to the skimpily attired Doleman. John wouldn’t be needing them any longer.

In the meantime, they belatedly decided to ration supplies, especially water. The sea had become rougher and the raft pitched about as they paddled, attempting at the same time to steer themselves back towards land.

Mick Doleman said, “The weather became appalling. At times the raft would concertina in on itself – you’d have people on the left and right hand sides of the raft smashing into each other.” Huge waves burst in through the raft’s canopy meaning the men, soaking wet, had to bail continuously. The weather blew them further and further south. “If we’d kept going that way, we’d have ended up on Heard Island or Antarctica.”

The currents and prevailing Westerlies combined to push them back closer again to Tasmania but they remained far from safety.  And it was extremely cold.

To learn more about their remarkable story, don’t forget to catch up with Part 2 of the story of the Blythe Star tomorrow.