13 decenber 1953, ken is drowned.

[Captain Kong]

DECEMBER 13 1953, KEN WAS DROWNED.



I do this every year in memory of Ken Hignett of Birkenhead who was drowned in Bonza Bay , East London South Africa.
Ship was the NEW ZEALAND STAR The full story of the voyage is in the SEAFARING STORIES THREAD.
RIP Ken., he was 20 years old. 64 years ago......................................
.
............We sailed round to East London and arrived there on the Saturday morning, we sailed up the Buffalo River and moored starboard side to at the bottom of the bluff to discharge.
After we had finished topping derricks ready for discharging, the Padre, Mr. McCulloch, from the Seamens Mission came on board and told us there was a dance at the Mission that night and on Sunday 13th of December there would be a coach trip up the coast to Bonza Bay and a picnic on the beach with the girls from the Mission. It sounded good so we all booked for it.
It was Saturday afternoon so I showered and changed and went ashore to have a look around East London. It was a nice quiet little town with one main street, Oxford Street which ran the full length of town. I called in a few bars and had a few beers up and down Oxford Street and after a while I decided to go to the Mission to meet up with the rest of the crowd at the dance. I got on a bus as I was a long way off by this time. The bus had a door at the front to get on and a door at the back to get off. When I got on the bus it was full so I had to stand and as more and more people got on I was moved further and further towards the back door which was open due to the hot weather.
As we neared the Mission on Buffalo Street, the bus took a sharp right hand bend and I shot through the back door and bounced along the road and ended up in the gutter covered in dust.
I lay there for a few minutes trying to figure out where I was, then I climbed to my feet and dusted myself down, there was nothing broken and no blood so I staggered into the Mission to clean myself up.
None of the Sailors were in there except the Deck Boy, I asked him where they were and he told me they were in the pub just around the corner of Buffalo Street.
I met Ronnie Vickers and Ken Hignett with some of the other lads in there. After a few more drinks the three of us got up to sing, we sang `I Believe` and `Answer Me`, all new songs that year by Frankie Lane. The girls in the pub were screaming and we felt like Pop Stars, by the end of the evening Ken and I had got friendly with two girls and invited them back on board the ship for a drink.
They said they had never been on a ship before, but as they walked along the deck one was saying to the other, “Mind that ring bolt and the purchase on that guy needs to be tightened, watch that runner.”
We took them into my cabin on the poop. When we got in there all hands started to come in and cases of beer appeared and a party began, all we wanted was a quiet drink with the girls. After a while Paddy Penson started to mess around with the girl I was with and she slapped his face, he belted her across her face so I thumped him and a big fight started in the cabin with everyone thumping each other and the girls were screaming, It was a shambles and the cabin was wrecked.
Eventually Ken and I got the girls out and took them ashore, we got a taxi and took them home. They were OK and we arranged to meet them the following day, Sunday afternoon.

more to come......................

SUNDAY DECEMBER 13, 1953.

The coach arrived at the gangway to pick us all up and take us to Bonza Bay, about 15 miles up the coast.
Ken and I were supposed to meet the two girls in the afternoon at 2pm but we decided to go to Bonza Bay instead and then meet them in the evening, as we knew where they lived. That was a decision that was to have fatal consequences.
When we got on the coach there were about a dozen Mission girls with large picnic hampers, so it looked as though we were going to have a good day out.
When we arrived at Bonza Bay we went into a hut and changed into our swimming togs and when we came out the girls were setting out the food for the picnic
On the way down the beach to the sea the girls shouted don't be long as the food would be ready in a few minutes and also beware of the currents, there is a strong under tow there. As Ronnie Vickers, Ken Hignett and I walked towards the sea I remember saying, "There is three of us going out and only two coming back" I don't know why I said it.
We were enjoying ourselves jumping around in the surf, it felt good to be away from the ship, when Ken said he had a problem and wanted to get out. He asked me to help him up to the beach, I thought he was a bit nervous as he couldnt swim and didnt want to get out of his depth, the water was waist deep at the time.
So I held his right arm and Ronnie held his left and we walked towards the beach when I noticed we were walking backwards with the undertow and the steeply shelving sand and getting deeper all the time. Next a huge wave hit us and knocked us under and when we surfaced we could not feel the bottom with our feet, then another wave hit us and swirled us under again. When we surfaced I realised we were in trouble. Ronnie and I were swimming hard holding onto Ken`s arms urging him to swim as I had been trying to teach him last Sunday in Cape Town. He wasnt doing too badly but we started to get hammered by a succession of bigger and bigger waves and we were being carried quite fast further out to sea. We were really in trouble now. I shouted to Ronnie to swim ashore and get some help which he did, it was a long hard swim for him to to get back to the beach.
I was holding onto Ken swimming as hard as I could but the waves were getting bigger and more frequent, knocking us under and swirling us over and over, like being inside a washing machine, it was a long hard struggle. I could feel cramp coming on in my arms and legs and I thought we were done for.
Then clouds covered up a clear blue sky, the wind increased in strength, the waves were getting bigger and it started to rain.
After what seemed to be an eternity I saw Dennis `Mo` Riley, one of our sailors, swimming towards us. Ronnie must have made it back to the beach and raised the alarm. `Mo` grabbed hold of Ken and then we were hit by another giant of a wave and tumbled us around and when I surfaced I could see `Mo` and Ken about 15 yards away. I tried to swim towards them but I was getting weak and the cramps in my arms and legs were getting worse and I could not use them, I had swallowed a lot of water and was convinced I was going to die, I was scared. I heard Ken`s voice, shouting "Help, help, help," Three times. Then we all disappeared under a wave of raging foam.
After several minutes I rose up on a crest of a wave and in the distance I could see ¬Mo` standing waist deep on a sand bank a few hundred yards off shore, hanging on to Ken who was lying down in the water, I saw a big wave hit them and they disappeared. I tried to swim towards them but seemed to be going further away with the current.
Later `Mo` told me that Ken was unconscious then and when he found him again he thought he was dead. He was holding on to him when they were hit by another big wave and then he lost him and couldn't find him again.
Meanwhile I was struggling to stay afloat, my arms and legs were dead and my vision was going and I was under water more and more as I was pounded by the waves, I knew then what it was like to die, I was in a no survive situation.
Then suddenly, as if by a miracle, I was grabbed by a lad in a harness and life buoy and we were being towed towards the beach. The lad`s name was David Brinton, a 15 year old South African school boy. I was carried up the beach where I collapsed and some one gave me artificial respiration. As I awoke I heard someone say that Ken had drowned. It was a terrible shock. The three of us had tried so hard to save him but the sea had beaten us. I felt really bad as if I had failed him. I had done my best but it wasnt enough and for a long time I felt a lot of guilt and it was a long time before I could come to terms with his death.
The Padre, Mr McCulloch, and one of the young ladies from the Mission, put me into his Land Rover and took me to Hospital where I was put to bed and given tablets which knocked me out for a few hours, then the Padre took me back to the New Zealand Star.
Some of the lads met me on the after deck and as I walked aft I noticed the Red Ensign flying at half mast, that was really sad.
I went to bed, taking some more tablets and told to stay there for about two days.
At 5.30 am next morning, Monday, `Mad` McAskill crashed into the cabin,. "Get up you Liverpool Ba5tards, turn to"……………….
I don’t remember getting up but I was on an electric chipping hammer scaling rust off the bulkheads amidships. I was in a total daze.
Rosemary Garfield Todd saw me on the chipping hammer and could see I was not at all well so she complained to Captain Rhodes. She stopped me from chipping and took me down aft to my cabin and put me to bed. `Mad` McAskill was not amused, I could hear him shouting “Liverpool Ba5tard”.
At 2pm I was called from my bunk again , the Police were on board and they wanted statements for the Inquest. `Mo` Riley, Ronnie Vickers and I went amidships to the ships office and had to tell the Policeman everything that had happened regarding Ken`s death, which was quite a harrowing experience. After making our statements, the three of us went ashore and had a few beers in a pub on Oxford Street. On the way we bought a newspaper, The Daily Dispatch and the story they printed was completely different to what had really happened. So after a few beers we went down to the Newspaper Office and saw the Editor and put the story right.
That evening there was a Service for Ken at the Seamens Mission, which was very sad.
Tuesday 15 December, we completed discharging and battened down, dropping the derricks and cast off and sailed round to Durban arriving on Thursday morning.
On Friday, December 18, we heard that Ken`s body had been washed up on the beach and that the Seamens Mission was going to do the funeral and have him buried in the East Cemetery in East London.
After the voyage some unbelievable things began to happen....................................


AFTER THE VOYAGE,

When I arrived home three months later I went to see Ken`s sister Molly in Birkenhead, a nice young lady, and she wanted to know what had happened, the Ship owner just tells the basic, "Your Ken is dead, drowned", as brief as that. I think she felt a little better knowing what happened and how we had struggled to save him. They had just suffered a couple of tragedies in the family as well around the same time.
Then some strange happenings which are hard to believe but are true.

I was home for a few days when I was awakened one night by my bedroom door opening and shutting, Ken was stood at my bedside, he offered me a ciggy, it was silent , he never spoke, then my mother shouted to me, "What are you doing out of bed," The door opened and shut again, He was gone. I told her what I had seen, She had heard the door. The next night I threw my little brother out of his bedroom and I went into his, and he into mine. The next night I had the same performance and mother heard the door opening and shutting again. he was there at the bed side and offered me a ciggy, mother shouted and then he was gone. It felt as though he was trying to say, Thanks.

Three years later October 1956, I was in East London again in the Eastern Cape, on the Dunedin Star, only had a couple of hours before we sailed again, I went to a cemetery to find his grave, I searched all over then I met a man who was just sitting on a bench, he said , “Who are you looking for “, I told him, “Ken Hignett”, he said " You are in the wrong cemetery, he is on the other side of town in the East Cemetery". Then he said , "My son saved a lad that day", I said , "Is he David Brinton,?" he said "Yes".. so I said , "I am the lad he saved". I was stunned, and I walked away and left him, I failed to ask for his address..
I had to get back to the ship, I was amazed that I had gone 7000 miles to the wrong cemetery and the only person I saw was the father of the lad who saved my life three years earlier.

For a few years I tried to find David Brinton to thank him for saving my life. I wrote to the South African newspapers, including East London`s Daily Dispatch. but to no avail.
A lady in East London wrote to me and said the family had gone to live in the Orange Free State but no address.
I phoned the Salvation Army in Johannesburg, they have a fantastic tracing people reputation, but they referred me to London. I tried them and was told they only trace family members. I told them the story and asked if they could make an exception, I also told them I was a member of the Salvation Army when I was a lad, a "Little Sunbeam". no less. Taken there by my Grandmother.
They said they would see what they could do. The only information I had was, he was 15 years old in 1953 and his name, David Brinton. Africa is a big place to trace people with that amount of information .
In 2001, I decided to go to East London to try to find him myself. it was a quest I knew I had to do before it was too late.
Two days before we were sailing to Cape Town on the QE2, in October, 2001, the telephone rang, it was the Salvation Army in London, they had found him. "Where in East London?" I asked, No he is in Stranraer, Scotland, they gave me his phone number and I phoned him. It was fantastic to be able to thank him for saving my life. He had lived there for 17 years after leaving South Africa, he had gone to Rhodesia then to Scotland.
We sailed to Cape Town on QE2 stayed one night and then we flew to East London to find Ken`s grave.
We checked into a hotel and a South African family who had read my emails on the internet met us and took us to the cemetery.
We found the grave, the cemetery was silent, not a sound. As we approached the grave, the screams that started to come out of the grave were terrible, I was shocked, Anne `s face turned white and was visibly shocked. My South African friends turned white and quickly walked away. The noise of a demented soul, we walked back and it stopped, silent. As we walked forward again the noise started again. There were no words, just an out of this world noise, which had a meaning like,….. “Why have I been here so long, why has no one been to see me and so on.” I could walk into and out of this sound like walking in and out of a large bubble over the grave, his spirit was definitely there and in anguish as if he was tied there with no escape.
I laid a Merchant Navy wreath that I had brought from England, on his grave. I got my camera but it would not work, nothing. So I got my video camera and that would not work, I very upset and disturbed by all these happenings, It should have been a happy day, that I had found him and laid a wreath on the grave.
We got into my friends car and went back to the hotel, the camera worked, the video camera worked, nothing wrong with them. The conversation was very quiet, everyone was stunned at what they had heard at the grave side.
Two days later my friends were taking us to the Airport to fly to Port Elizabeth, to join a coach to do the `Garden Route tour`, I was not happy and very disturbed, it should not be like this.
I could not go home not knowing what was going on there. So I told my friends to go back to the cemetery. They took us there but refused to go into the cemetery
When we got back to the grave, all was silent and peaceful. I took the photos, the camera worked and also the video camera worked. Then a strange thing happened, the ink on the card on the Merchant Navy Wreath began to run as if it was wet, even tho` it had been laminated and it was a warm suuny day, It just happened as I stood and watched and then it became unreadable, a very strange experience.
He had gone, gone to Fiddlers Green, where all good Sailors go.
I felt good again as if a load had been taken off my shoulders. Ken had been released from the grave, the trip had been worth while.

We arrived back in Cape Town five days later and the following week joined the CARONIA and sailed back to England.
When we arrived home I had a phone call from Esther Rantzen, a TV Presenter from the BBC in London. She had heard of the story from the Salvation Army and wanted me to go to the London BBC TV Studios and tell the story on TV on the `Esther Show`. So on 14 February 2002, Anne and I went to London, expenses paid, a Limo waiting at Euston Station for us and then to the studios.
I was taken to the make up room and sat with a few TV Celebs and had a make over, lip stick, and make up, a white cream and then a brown powder and rubbed in over my face and my eyebrows darkened. I was then interviewed by Esther on stage with a studio audience, and told them all about the tragedy and my search for David Brinton, Esther said “Have you ever met him?”, I said “No”, so she said , “Well here he is”, and David walked onto the stage. It was another fantastic moment to be able to shake his hand and thank him for saving my life, after more than 48 years. We went into the green room after the show and partook of the free bar, Later David had to fly back to Scotland for his business and I stayed. That evening the BBC Staff poured me into a Limo and took us to our hotel in Kensington. I went into the bar there and ordered a couple of drinks for us both. A lot of men were smiling and winking at me, I thought what nice friendly people in London.
Later I went to our room and shock horror, I still had my lip stick and make up on. They must have thought I was a wufter.
I keep in touch with David and always phone him or go to Stranraer on December 13.
We talked later and he told me his father had died in a car crash in October 1956 around the time I had spoken to him in the cemetery in East London. So was he a ghost?

I WROTE A POEM ABOUT IT.

A Beach Called Bonza Bay.
In 1953 on the New Zealand Star
In East London we did stay
but Ken Hignett and I
didn`t know he would die
on some beach called Bonza Bay.

The story began
when the Mission Man
said he would take us away for the day
so all of us went off on his bus
to a beach called Bonza Bay

When Ken jumped in
he just couldn`t swim
and the tide soon carried him away.
Though I struggled and tried
Ken drowned and then died
near a beach called Bonza Bay

Then I was seen on a wave
by a lad named Dave
who swam out to get me away
and through struggle and strife
that lad saved my life
on a beach called Bonza Bay

When Ken was washed ashore
his life was no more
Five days since he got swept away
and he lay all alone
on the sand and the stone
on a beach called Bonza Bay

So they buried Ken in a Sailors grave
at a place where the palm trees sway,
on a foreign strand
in a far off land
near a beach called Bonza Bay

Below,
The rescue, Ken Hignett and me, kneeling Mo Riley, and me at his graveside in East London South Africa.
.................................................. ...............................................

This my last post,


I posted it early as I am away all week,
Good Bye my friends.
Brian.

[Captain Kong]

December 13, today ,

in memory of Ken Hignett of Birkenhead, age 20 years old, drowned in South Africa off the New Zealand Star.

I tried to save him but failed, and as I was drowning I was rescued by David Brinton of South Africa now in Stranraer Scotland.
So I have just telephoned David to thank him once again for saving my life those 64 years ago, 1953,. It is wonderful to be able to do that.
Cheers
Brian.

[John Pruden]

brian some years you may go to a couple of funerals in the past 3 months 3 family members and 5 close friends have passed away ? it certainly puts our own lives in prospective i will be glad when this year has faded into history barb and i have been at breaking point a few times one family was murdered in Liverpool at a very young age the grim reaper has bean busy around us as late? jp