See also
Husband: | Gregory Seymour NORRIS (1835-1899) | |
Wife: | Annie HICKTON (1842-1919) | |
Children: | Maude Etherdin NORRIS (1862-1949) | |
Edith Laura NORRIS (1864-1943) | ||
George Henry NORRIS (1866-1881) | ||
Arthur Hayward NORRIS (1871-1946) | ||
Eva Mabel NORRIS (1873-1882) | ||
Edgar Wilfred NORRIS (1878-1879) | ||
Annie Kathleen NORRIS (1880-1882) | ||
Stanley Franklyn NORRIS (1885-1886) |
Name: | Gregory Seymour NORRIS | |
Sex: | Male | |
Father: | - | |
Mother: | - | |
Note 1: | https://www.findagrave.com/memorial/193940383/gregory_seymour_norris | |
Note 2: | Australasian Sketcher (Adelaide,SA : 1874 - 1885), Sat 12 Nov 1881, Page 14 LOSS OF THE BARQUE GLIMPSE. DURING the recent terrible gale which swept over our coasts, the barque Glimpse, from Puget Sound to Melbourne, timber laden, foundered on October 21, when near the Australian coast. She was then 250 miles east of Cape Howe. The second mate was swept overboard and drowned, and the captain and crew, 10 in all, took to an open boat, in which they spent seven days before they were picked up. During that time the cook, Gordon, and a boy of 14, son of the captain, perished from exhaustion. The survivors were taken on to Sydney by the steamer Coonanbarra, and their wants attended to. The following particulars of the disaster were obtained from the crew at the Sailors' Home :—The barque was always troubled with leakage, and we had to pump her every watch, and found always about an equal quantity of water. In Auckland the vessel was docked, and an unsuccessful effort was made to discover the leak and stop it, but no particular damage was discovered. Remarkably fine weather was experienced through the tropical seas, and until the first shock of the terrible gale was encountered the still constant, but trivial, leakage did not give much cause for alarm. With the first very appearance of an increasing sea, however, it became apparent that most strenuous exertions would be required to avoid foundering. All hands were at the pumps continually. Efforts were made to work the donkey-engine, but the seas put out the fire and swamped the gear. Next morning an endeavour was made to " wear the vessel " and run her before the gale. The lee clew of the foresail was loosed, and the captain himself went out and loosed the jib, but she had no sooner got before the wind than a tremendous sea broke on board. The cargo was bulging through the decks, and the stern-post, with the wheel and the second mate, who was steering, seemed to "sink bodily down with her." The captain, secured by a bowline, was diving through the skylight into the cabin in the hope of rescuing his instruments and papers. A compass and speaking-trumpet were obtained and got into the boat, with two bags of potatoes and about 1 cwt. salt beef, and also a keg of water, which was found afterwards to be salt. This last most terrible disaster was explained by the fact that the keg had an open spigot-hole left for drawing off small quantities for drinking purposes, and through this the salt water had forced its way while the ship was washed by the sea. A 30ft. spar was attached to the boat, which was steered by an oar. She was kept facing the gale, and rode thus for four-and-twenty hours, until easier weather coming on permitted her to make headway in the direction of the coast. The beef was known to be useless, and the two bags of potatoes were all that the occupants of the boat could depend upon for food and drink. Upon the second day the cook (a South African black) died in a state of madness. It is supposed he had drunk salt water. The captain's boy then became very ill. Every possible effort was made to save him. The watery matter from the potatoes was squeezed into his lips, but he could not swallow it. Hooks were made from bent nails, and every effort tried in vain to catch an albatross. The men thought it possible to survive by sucking blood, but their efforts in this direction met with no success. Upon the fifth day the boy died, and while the father, in the bows of the boat, looked out for the land, was left quietly astern. On the following morning a little rain fell, but it was only a shower that lasted for five minutes. No water was saved, the only relief obtained being from the few drops that fell upon the parched faces and burning tongues of the sufferers. And thus through another and another day. All night they lay in agony, praying for the sight of a cloud, the promise of rain, or even dew. At times in the evening great purple clouds in the west took land-like shapes, and expectations grew fondly, only to be bitterly blasted at the dawning. The agonies of that terrible time will never be fully told. Maddened by thirst and despair, they were looking strangely at each other. On the night of the rescue the captain was very weak, but still sane, and constantly gave repeated orders. This was to keep the men in discipline. "God knows," he said, "how long I may last, but keep her on her course, and you must pull to land." It was a little after midnight on the ninth day that the chief officer, looking out, saw a red light. They took it to be from the shore, and made towards it in desperation. When they got nearer it was seen to be from a steamer passing them by. Frantic efforts were made to reach her, and wild despairing cries were raised to attract attention. They could see the long dark lines of her hull, and occasional figures moving upon the deck. They could hear the thud of the screw, and feel the swell of the water as it surged back from the prow, and yet it seemed that they were unheard or unheeded. The pangs of a life's endurance are condensed in such moments of agony as these. The vessel was right abreast, she went by the boat, and while the captain still hailed through his speaking trumpet, the others lay down in utter despair. But their cries had been heard, and the engines in the steamer were stopped. The oars were grasped frantically, and in a few seconds the suffering men pulled alongside their deliverer. It is not easy to exaggerate their ghastly plight as they were hoisted one by one aboard, and forcibly held lest they should rush to the water-casks and die there. The officers and stewards of the Coonanbarra were as discreet as they were kind, and small quantities of tea and coffee, weakly diluted with spirits, were administered to the sufferers, till by degrees the danger was over, and their burning thirst assuaged. |
|
Birth | 16 Sep 1835 | New York County, New York, USA |
Title | Captain | |
Death | 25 Jul 1899 (age 63) | at sea |
Name: | Annie HICKTON | |
Sex: | Female | |
Father: | Henry Thomas HICKTON (c. 1811-1885) | |
Mother: | Elizabeth ROBSON (c. 1815-1900) | |
Note: | https://www.findagrave.com/memorial/193940342/annie_norris | |
Birth | 7 Oct 1842 | at sea |
Death | 14 Nov 1919 (age 77) | |
Burial | O'Neills Point Cemetery | |
belmont, Auckland, New Zealand - Block B, Plot 199 |
Name: | Maude Etherdin NORRIS | |
Sex: | Female | |
Spouse: | Francis James QUICK (1860-1940) | |
Children: | William Frank QUICK (1884-1938) | |
Note: | https://www.findagrave.com/memorial/231084378/maude_etherdin_quick | |
Birth | 8 Dec 1862 | Russell, Far North District, Northland, New Zealand |
Death | 10 Jul 1949 (age 86) | Auckland, New Zealand |
Burial | O'Neills Point Cemetery | |
Belmont, Auckland, New Zealand - Block T, Plot 132 |
Name: | Edith Laura NORRIS | |
Sex: | Female | |
Spouse: | Charles Robert WILLIAMSON (1866-1946) | |
Children: | Greta Gwendoline WILLIAMSON (1894-1895) | |
Note: | https://www.findagrave.com/memorial/184432312/edith_laura_williamson | |
Birth | 18 Nov 1864 | |
Death | 28 Apr 1943 (age 78) |
Name: | George Henry NORRIS | |
Sex: | Male | |
Note: | https://www.findagrave.com/memorial/236330546/george_henry_norris | |
Birth | 4 Nov 1866 | Far North District, Northland, New Zealand |
Death | 24 Oct 1881 (age 14) | at sea |
Name: | Arthur Hayward NORRIS | |
Sex: | Male | |
Note: | https://www.findagrave.com/memorial/214965719/arthur_hayward_norris | |
Birth | 9 Aug 1871 | New Zealand |
Death | 1 Jan 1946 (age 74) | Auckland, New Zealand |
Burial | O'Neills Point Cemetery | |
belmont, Auckland, New Zealand - Block B, Plot 199 |
Name: | Eva Mabel NORRIS | |
Sex: | Female | |
Note: | https://www.findagrave.com/memorial/193940694/eva_mabel_norris | |
Birth | 18 Oct 1873 | Far North District, Northland, New Zealand |
Death | 17 Jul 1882 (age 8) | Devonport, Auckland, Auckland, New Zealand |
Name: | Edgar Wilfred NORRIS | |
Sex: | Male | |
Note: | https://www.findagrave.com/memorial/193940760/edgar_wilfred_norris | |
Birth | 1 Dec 1878 | Devonport, Auckland, Auckland, New Zealand |
Death | 7 May 1879 (age 0) | Devonport, Auckland, Auckland, New Zealand |
Burial | Mt Victoria Cemetery | |
devonport, Auckland - Plot Anglican |
Name: | Annie Kathleen NORRIS | |
Sex: | Female | |
Note: | https://www.findagrave.com/memorial/193940723/annie_kathleen_norris | |
Birth | 11 Apr 1880 | Auckland, New Zealand |
Death | 13 Aug 1882 (age 2) | Devonport, Auckland, Auckland, New Zealand |
Burial | Mt Victoria Cemetery | |
Devonport, Auckland - Plot Anglican |
Name: | Stanley Franklyn NORRIS | |
Sex: | Male | |
Note: | https://www.findagrave.com/memorial/187953426/stanley_franklyn_norris | |
Birth | 30 Aug 1885 | Auckland, New Zealand |
Death | 3 Feb 1886 (age 0) | Devonport, Auckland, Auckland, New Zealand |
https://www.findagrave.com/memorial/193940383/gregory_seymour_norris
Australasian Sketcher (Adelaide,SA : 1874 - 1885), Sat 12 Nov 1881, Page 14
LOSS OF THE BARQUE GLIMPSE.
DURING the recent terrible gale which swept over our coasts, the barque Glimpse, from Puget Sound to Melbourne, timber laden, foundered on October 21, when near the Australian coast. She was then 250 miles east of Cape Howe.
The second mate was swept overboard and drowned, and the captain and crew, 10 in all, took to an open boat, in which they spent seven days before they were picked up. During that time the cook, Gordon, and a boy of 14, son of the captain, perished from exhaustion.
The survivors were taken on to Sydney by the steamer Coonanbarra, and their wants attended to.
The following particulars of the disaster were obtained from the crew at the Sailors' Home :—The barque was always troubled with leakage, and we had to pump her every watch, and found always about an equal quantity of water. In Auckland the vessel was docked, and an unsuccessful effort was made to discover the leak and stop it, but no particular damage was discovered.
Remarkably fine weather was experienced through the tropical seas, and until the first shock of the terrible gale was encountered the still constant, but trivial, leakage did not give much cause for alarm. With the first very appearance of an increasing sea, however, it became apparent that most strenuous exertions would be required to avoid foundering. All hands were at the pumps continually. Efforts were made to work the donkey-engine, but the seas put out the fire and swamped the gear.
Next morning an endeavour was made to " wear the vessel " and run her before the gale. The lee clew of the foresail was loosed, and the captain himself went out and loosed the jib, but she had no sooner got before the wind than a tremendous sea broke on board.
The cargo was bulging through the decks, and the stern-post, with the wheel and the second mate, who was steering, seemed to "sink bodily down with her."
The captain, secured by a bowline, was diving through the skylight into the cabin in the hope of rescuing his instruments and papers. A compass and speaking-trumpet were obtained and got into the boat, with two bags of potatoes and about 1 cwt. salt beef, and also a keg of water, which was found afterwards to be salt. This last most terrible disaster was explained by the fact that the keg had an open spigot-hole left for drawing off small quantities for drinking purposes, and through this the salt water had forced its way while the ship was washed by the sea.
A 30ft. spar was attached to the boat, which was steered by an oar. She was kept facing the gale, and rode thus for four-and-twenty hours, until easier weather coming on permitted her to make headway in the direction of the coast.
The beef was known to be useless, and the two bags of potatoes were all that the occupants of the boat could depend upon for food and drink. Upon the second day the cook (a South African black) died in a state of madness. It is supposed he had drunk salt water. The captain's boy then became very ill. Every possible effort was made to save him. The watery matter from the potatoes was squeezed into his lips, but he could not swallow it.
Hooks were made from bent nails, and every effort tried in vain to catch an albatross. The men thought it possible to survive by sucking blood, but their efforts in this direction met with no success.
Upon the fifth day the boy died, and while the father, in the bows of the boat, looked out for the land, was left quietly astern.
On the following morning a little rain fell, but it was only a shower that lasted for five minutes. No water was saved, the only relief obtained being from the few drops that fell upon the parched faces and burning tongues of the sufferers. And thus through another and another day. All night they lay in agony, praying for the sight of a cloud, the promise of rain, or even dew. At times in the evening great purple clouds in the west took land-like shapes, and expectations grew fondly, only to be bitterly blasted at the dawning.
The agonies of that terrible time will never be fully told. Maddened by thirst and despair, they were looking strangely at each other. On the night of the rescue the captain was very weak, but still sane, and constantly gave repeated orders. This was to keep the men in discipline. "God knows," he said, "how long I may last, but keep her on her course, and you must pull to land."
It was a little after midnight on the ninth day that the chief officer, looking out, saw a red light. They took it to be from the shore, and made towards it in desperation. When they got nearer it was seen to be from a steamer passing them by. Frantic efforts were made to reach her, and wild despairing cries were raised to attract attention. They could see the long dark lines of her hull, and occasional figures moving upon the deck. They could hear the thud of the screw, and feel the swell of the water as it surged back from the prow, and yet it seemed that they were unheard or unheeded. The pangs of a life's endurance are condensed in such moments of agony as these.
The vessel was right abreast, she went by the boat, and while the captain still hailed through his speaking trumpet, the others lay down in utter despair. But their cries had been heard, and the engines in the steamer were stopped. The oars were grasped frantically, and in a few seconds the suffering men pulled alongside their deliverer. It is not easy to exaggerate their ghastly plight as they were hoisted one by one aboard, and forcibly held lest they should rush to the water-casks and die there. The officers and stewards of the Coonanbarra were as discreet as they were kind, and small quantities of tea and coffee, weakly diluted with spirits, were administered to the sufferers, till by degrees the danger was over, and their burning thirst assuaged.
https://www.findagrave.com/memorial/193940342/annie_norris
https://www.findagrave.com/memorial/231084378/maude_etherdin_quick
https://www.findagrave.com/memorial/184432312/edith_laura_williamson
https://www.findagrave.com/memorial/236330546/george_henry_norris
https://www.findagrave.com/memorial/214965719/arthur_hayward_norris
https://www.findagrave.com/memorial/193940694/eva_mabel_norris
https://www.findagrave.com/memorial/193940760/edgar_wilfred_norris
https://www.findagrave.com/memorial/193940723/annie_kathleen_norris
https://www.findagrave.com/memorial/187953426/stanley_franklyn_norris