Fremantle 2 – Torpedoes, shipwrecks and soggy chips

Torpedo room. Emergency ascent suit on left.

We adopted a nautical theme today and spent most of our time in maritime museums of one form or another. Our first port of call was HMAS Ovens, an apt name for an Oberon class diesel-powerered submarine. It's in dry dock at the World War 2 submarine slipways adjacent to the Western Australia Maritime Museum. During WW2 over 160 submarines were based here making it the largest allied submarine base outside of Pearl Harbour at the time. This particular sub, though, is post WW2; it was used as a reconnaissance boat during the Cold War. It could operate for long periods under water using battery power only, making it the stealth sub of its day.

HMAS Ovens in dry dock

We were shown around by John, who had served on the boat as a comms operator. We had both thought that we would feel claustrophobic but the tour was so riveting that 90 minutes just whizzed by. John kept us ducking and diving from the torpedo room to the rear, and although much of it was technical, we enjoyed every bit of it. At one point John described having to do an emergency exit dive from the sub at 100 feet underwater, and having to do this every 6 months in order to be passed fit for duty. However, he then illustrated the futility of this training by saying that the sub typically operated at depths of 400 to 600 feet, and that anyone leaving the sub at this depth would certainly die in the ascent. "At least they'd get something to bury." he explained.

HMAS Ovens, a motley crew.

After the sub, we headed into the main museum where we explored WA's rich maritime history. The largest exhibit is that of Australia II, the yacht with which the Royal Perth Yacht Club in 1983 finally wrested the Americas Cup from the New York Yacht Club. The NYYC had held the cup since 1851 so this was quite a coup and Australia rightly celebrated it. They probably want to forget the 4-0 drubbing they got subsequently from the Americans in 1987 though, especially as the race was held here in Fremantle.

They must have been terrified.

Around the museum were a number of extremely emotive statues depicting immigrants to Western Australia, mostly of orphaned children. After WW2 British orphanages were awash with children and the government of the day, in collusion with many charitable agencies, shipped thousands of children to Australia with the promise of a loving family at the end of the long voyage. In reality the lucky ones found themselves treated little better than indentured labour, the unlucky ones were housed in religious orphanages that were often little more than organised paedophile rings, subjected to years of physical and sexual abuse. Shamefully this exodus of children continued into the late 1960s and included many who were not even orphans, the agencies of the day finding it easier to ship them out than trace their parents. Not one of our finest hours.

All that remains of Batavia's hull.

From the museum we made our way back to Fishing Boat Harbour for lunch and decided to try Joe's Fish Shack. Regrettably it failed to live up to expectations and we had our first bad meal in Freo, overcooked fish & soggy chips, all ridiculously overpriced. We refused to let it dampen our spirits though and, post lunch, visited the Wreck Galleries. Aussies seem fascinated by these, so much so that they have created a separate wing of the Maritime Museum to house exhibits about ships that have come to grief along this coast. In the early 17th century the Dutch East India Company was particularly careless with its ships and lost many in this region. Perhaps the most infamous of these was the Batavia which set sail from the Netherlands in 1628 on its maiden voyage under the overall command of senior merchant Francisco Pelsaert, but was directly skippered by Ariaen Jacobsz. Also on board was junior merchant Jeronimus Cornelisz, a bankrupt pharmacist fleeing the Netherlands.

HMAS Ovens' engine room, more Tardis than sub. Thankfully
big enough for my disappearing backside stage left.

Jacobsz and Cornelisz, a devious pair, conceived a plan to steal the ship and start a new life somewhere, using the huge supply of gold and silver on board. They deliberately steered the ship away from the rest of the fleet and found ways to create tension and ill-will amongst the crew. Pelsaert became aware of the plot but, before it could develop further, the ship hit a reef near Beacon Island, just off the Western Australian coast. Around 280 men, women and children survived and made it to a string of nearby Islands. They found no fresh water and very little food so Pelsaert set out with a few select individuals to search the mainland. Failing to find water he took the small 30 foot boat north in an attempt to reach Batavia, now known as Jakarta. It took 33 days and, extraordinarily, all aboard survived.

Getting fresh with a Freo fisherman

The governor provided Pelsaert with another ship and charged him with arresting the remaining mutineers, securing the Gold and saving the passengers, in that order. During Pelsaert's absence Cornelisz had taken complete control on the remote islands, finding a way to kill any remaining loyal crew and subjecting the remaining survivors to two months of unrelenting butchery and savagery. Cornelisz never committed any murders himself; he coerced others, mainly young men, to do it for him. His original intention may have been to make the supplies last longer for the chosen few but accounts of the time make it clear that the mutineers eventually began to kill for pleasure, or simply because they were bored. When Pelsaert eventually got back he found that at least 110 men, women, and children had been murdered. Truly Grim and the aftermath wasn't much better, Cornelisz and the main ringleaders had both hands chopped off before being hanged. I wouldn't be surprised if there isn't already a Mel Gibson film in production.

After this we returned to base and lightened the mood considerably by watching Kung Fu Panda, a great film despite Dustin Hoffman. Skiddoosh.