A disaster never buried
Most of us know about the Tangiwai disaster and though it happened 61 years ago, recalling the acts of courage and scenes of horror still stir our emotions.
TANGIWAI. The name is as fateful in our history as Erebus, or Wahine. A Christmas turned to tragedy. Christmas Day 1953 should have been a happy occasion. The happiest in the country’s history, The Evening Post suggested. The Queen was in New Zealand, on a tour after her coronation. Everest had been climbed. It had been a great year.
Most of us know the story. We’ve read about it, or seen it on TV. It is never less than moving.
The Christmas Eve express packed with travellers racing towards the broken bridge, swept away by a weird volcanical overthrow. A quiet stream turned into a roaring beast. A lone man – Cyril Ellis – desperately waving a torch to stop the train.
The awful moment when the driver must have realised what was about to happen, and been unable to do anything to stop it.
The noise. The wreckage. The screams. Desperate attempts to rescue drowning people. Whole families wiped out and loved ones lost to the waters and the wreck. Toys and other presents littered the riverbank.
The Evening Post’s Boxing Day edition was sombre. ‘‘Nothing will be said that can dissipate the gloom into which the nation has been cast at the news,’’ its editorial said. ‘‘What should have been New Zealand’s happiest Christmas –a royal occasion in every sense of the term – was irreparably blighted by the shock.’’
A reporter had made it to the scene. The article recounts the bravery of rescuers and the horror of the crash – tales of heroism and sheer chance that saved lives.
A Wellington couple, the Andersons, were on their way to Tongariro for a holiday. Their carriage went into the water.
‘‘Trapped ... buffeted by the foaming floodwater, [they] abandoned all hope of rescue and resigned themselves to their fate,’’ the reporter wrote. ‘‘Someone fortunately pushed a heel through the window above their heads.’’
The Andersons climbed out. They were in the carriage where 20 of 21 people managed to survive, thanks to the efforts of the other passengers and the train guard, Ellis and Ngaio man William Inglis.
Others were not Bodies were taken so to fortunate. Waiouru, soldiers and volunteers combed the riverbanks. It took days for the full list of victims to be published. Some were never found, others never identified.
Those who could not be given a name were interred at the Karori Cemetery on New Year’s Eve.
The Queen and the Duke of Edinburgh were there, laying blue flowers among the bouquets.
‘‘Simple, sincere service,’’ the Post wrote. There was nothing to be done but get through the bleakest festive season in New Zealand history.
Meanwhile, in South Africa ... we all know this story too. But it’s worth repeating.
Cape Town, Boxing Day. A cricket test match. New Zealand in trouble.
Bob Blair was not at the ground. He had learned of the death of his fiancee, Nerissa Love, who had been on the train. He was left alone at the team hotel, his headline-winning bowling on Christmas Eve forgotten. Nobody expected him to play again.
Bert Sutcliffe was the best batsman in the country, and one of the best in the world. Even he was in trouble. Hit on the head by Neil Adcock, he was concussed. Seeing double. They gave him a whiskey and he knocked it back. Bandage around his head, bloodied, he went back to bat even though no one would blame him if he did not. New Zealand were 81 for 6. Sutcliffe was not easily bowed by pace bowling. His courage verged on the foolhardy, but he focused on one of the three balls he could see, and he batted brilliantly.
Still New Zealand were only on 154 when the ninth wicket fell. The players started to walk off. And suddenly Blair was there. Sutcliffe could not believe it. Neither could the crowd. They stood, as one, in an ovation. Many of the players could not control themselves and began to cry, even the South Africans. There had never been a scene like it.
‘‘Why the personal loss of one man should affect so many people 8000 miles away is hard to understand, unless it was the fact Blair was himself so far from home and his sorrow was shared by his team-mates,’’ the Post wrote. ‘‘Sutcliffe ... was also visibly distressed.’’
Blair hit Hugh Tayfield, the spinner, for six. Sutcliffe hit three more. They added 33 together. The score did not matter.
When Blair was out, the pair walked off into the history of New Zealand sport. And they would be forever linked with Tangiwai. THE Dominion Post – 150 Years of News is available via dompost.co.nz or 0800 50 50 90. Priced at $34.95 + $3 postage and handling or $29.95 + $3 p&h for subscribers.