Last month the Roseland marked the 110th anniversary of the loss of the Hera.

The four masted sailing ship Hera ran aground off Gull Rock close to the coast at Nare Head on the night of the 31 January 1914 . Only five of her crew of 24 survived. They were rescued by the Falmouth lifeboat, Bob Newbon, after desperately clinging to one of the spars of the sinking ship in freezing temperatures into the early hours of the morning.

Among those who attended the memorial service was the great grandson of the lifeboat cox that night. And letters were read out from relatives of the survivors. We thought you might like to hear from them in their own words.

Among those attending the memorial service was Adrian Hingston

Adrian is the Great Grandson of Samuel Hingston who was the Cox of the Falmouth Lifeboat that went out in search of survivors. This is what his family have been told about the crew’s extraordinary endeavours that night.

“My great grandfather Samuel Hingston was the Cox of the Falmouth Lifeboat between 1901 and 1919.

As far as I can remember, from what I was told,  he was elected to be the coxswain due to the former Cox and crew of the Bob Newbon keeping an untidy ship. The previous coxswain and crew were struck off from duties and Sam was asked to step in as Cox and muster a crew.

On February 1st 1914 rockets were sent up and the crew were summoned to the lifeboat. Samuel  Hingsto, William Leuty and Thomas Pollard  are a few names I know that were part of the crew that launched the lifeboat that night. There was also a ‘Rollings’ but I don’t think he was part of the crew that night. A tug from Falmouth Docks was called to tow the lifeboat out of the harbour as the weather was so bad they weren’t making any headway.

It towed them to the where the Hera struck. The lifeboat was cast adrift from the tug and was then able to go in and look for survivors. They made several passes but to no avail. The lifeboat  crew dropped anchor and gathered their strength again. Through the sound of the gale a whistle was faintly heard by Sam. He decided to make one more pass so the anchor was lifted. It was at this point that William Leuty caught his fingers trapping them under the chain of the anchor. His fingers were badly damaged but he still  carried on. They headed towards where he thought the whistling came from. 

They went toward one of the top masts where they found five crew clinging to it. 

Samuel was a well-known Boatman in the area and highly respected. I think the crew should have been commended accordingly by the RNLI, but due to the fact the Hera was a German ship, there was (at the time) great sensitivity between Germany and UK. I think the rescue went unnoticed, but I think the crew should have some recognition for what they achieved that night. Nineteen of Hera’s crew that lost their lives, 5 were spared.”

Letters of thanks from the families of the survivors

From Rita Agius in Malta, whose grandfather Josef Cauchi, was one of the five survivors.

I am sorry not to be here today but consider myself fortunate to be spiritually present where, 110 years ago, my grandfather Josef Cauchi played a significant role in a tragedy that deeply affected the entire village of Veryan and surrounding area.

On the first of February, many commemorate this event, recalling the plight of the sailors who, unlike my grandfather did not survive. Today, I wish to share the story passed down by my grandfather regarding his miraculous escape from drowning. He often told me how he had survived, and recounted that amidst the perilous waters, his only solace was in prayer, pleading to the Madonna for salvation. His thoughts concerned his mother, fearing that his demise would devastate her, leaving her forever without news from him.

My grandfather recounted that he had numerous reasons for drowning, primarily his lack of swimming skills. Can you imagine a sailor entrusting his life to the sea without knowing how to swim? This was precisely the case with my grandfather and the narrative  he would recount whenever sharing his poignant story.

On that particular day he retired to his cabin to rest. However, he noticed distant lights from the porthole, prompting him to alert the captain before returning to sleep. Soon after, amidst shouts of panic from fellow sailors, he awoke to imminent danger as the ship veered dangerously close to land. The frantic efforts of the crew to avert disaster proved futile as the vessel collided with a reef, signalling impending doom. Amidst the chaos, he scrambled to secure safety gear, but all he could find was a damaged lifebuoy with torn cork and severed fasteners. He hastily strapped it on, endeavouring to save both himself and his comrades.

A poignant tale he recounted with a heavy heart involved his encounter with the captain who was descending to retrieve ship documents despite my grandfather’s plea to leave them. Despite the urgency, the captain insisted on their importance. Regrettably, shortly afterwards, the ship began to roll over scattering everything across the sea’s surface.

Immediately, my grandfather found himself immersed in frigid waters. Lacking swimming skills and with a torn jacket  he clutched at fragments of wood scattered from the ship. Despite the ship sinking, a mast protruded from the wreck, providing some refuge. However fellow sailors were clinging to it, compelling him to continue swimming, relying on the makeshift flotation he had found.

As a young girl, I questioned my grandfather about survival and endurance during his ordeal at sea and he replied, “When a fellow sailor could no longer endure the freezing cold and released his grip from the mast, I swiftly climbed higher to avoid remaining in the icy water, and heard those who succumbed to the cold utter their last farewells, saying ‘goodbye Joe, can’t hold any longer!’ as they let go and drowned.

Some distance away the lifeboat and its crew set out early in the morning, facing difficulty in locating the survivors. Eventually, they found the five sailors hanging on to the mast drawn there by the sound of the whistle. They were taken on board and returned to Falmouth.  Had my grandfather not been rescued and I not composing this message to you,  today you would be commemorating  twenty victims instead of nineteen, and the whole narrative would be different. Following the tragedy, my grandfather returned to Malta before embarking on further adventures at sea. In 1932, he returned to Malta where my mother Emmanuela was born. From then on, he never looked back, save to recount the tale of his survival on that chilling January evening amidst a dark, turbulent sea.

Today, both grandpa Josef and his daughter Emmanuela have departed, unable to express their gratitude or convey their thanks to the brave villagers who risked their lives to rescue the five survivors, including my grandfather. He passed away in 1978 aged 84, while my mother left us two years ago aged 88. It was only three months after her passing that I coincidentally learned about Veryan, courtesy of Louise Allen and Kevin Patience.

When my grandfather recounted his story, he always concluded by praising the compassionate nature of the villagers and how they cared for the survivors with utmost kindness. He often spoke of how generously they were treated, receiving donations of money, clothes, food, and, notably, spirits. He recalled their words, “You are the ones who survived the shipwreck. Here’s some money and rum for you!”

I am confident that even though my grandfather isn’t physically present at this commemoration of the HERA  at Veryan, his spirit is undoubtedly participating. Knowing him well, I’m certain he would have seized the chance to express gratitude to all the villagers who risked their lives for him. Therefore, on his behalf, I extend my heartfelt thanks to Louise  and Kevin for locating me. The internet has truly transformed the world into a global village, bridging vast distances and bringing us closer together despite our physical separation.

I extend my gratitude to the residents of Veryan and Falmouth for rescuing my grandfather. While I understand that it wasn’t you directly who saved him, it was undoubtedly your ancestors, and for this, I am profoundly grateful to both you and your forefathers. I may not be able to repay the kindness of your ancestors, but I can certainly offer my prayers for the cherished souls of the brave Cornish men who rescued my grandfather that night.

Thank you Veryan!

Rita Agius (Granddaughter of Josef Cauchi(survivor of Hera 1914)).

Letter from Ute Poechman whose grandfather August Lassen was one of the five survivors

Good morning  to you all from Canada

I am honoured to have been made aware of and invited to this 110th commemoration of the sinking of the Hera. Thank you Kevin.

My family and I are forever grateful to the courageous crew members of the Bob Newbon lifeboat without whose bravery, we would not be here.

We would like to thank the families of: Samuel Hingston, Coxn, George Jones, 2^nd Coxn, Thomas Pollard, William Leuty, William Tonkin, W. Allway, J. Bankes, F. Capet, R. James, , R. Toms, E.Jones, J.Jones, J.Gibbons, J.McCluskey, E.Snell and J.Snell.

These aforementioned men showed extreme courage in the face of catastrophe.

We would also like to acknowledge the lifesaving response of Coastguard Officer Wilkins, Dr. Clover and family, and the crews of the tugs Perran, Triton and Victor.

A very sincere and heartfelt thank you to the generosity of the people of Veryan, and the surrounding villages for their contribution of clothing, food, shelter and comfort to the five survivors. These men are all remembered with fierce pride and their values remain in their successive generations. When things go wrong, by the grace of God so many things go right.

I would like to tell you a little about one of the five survivors: my grandfather, August Lassen. He was one of the younger sailors on board  just 18 in 1914.

August was born on 10 November 1895, in Flensburg, Germany to a well-to-do family.  He developed a love of the sea and his adventures began quite young, when he started as a ship’s boy on the  sailing ship Oceana of Hamburg.

After the sinking of the Hera, he never sailed on a commercial ship again and rarely spoke of the Hera and that fateful night, simply saying that the pictures told the story. Shortly after returning home in February 1914, he joined a Danish shipping company as a border patrol officer until 1916. In 1918, he was briefly conscripted into service as a marine, in Kiel.

After WW1, he worked in his father’s bakery, becoming company manager in 1920. That same year he married Sophie Blumenberg on 14 August and raised two children – Eva born 1922, and my father, Egon August, in 1925. My aunt recalled that when my grandfather married aged 25, his hair was snow white.

In 1931, after leaving the business he was again conscripted as a marine border patrol officer for the city of Flensburg and in his spare time voyaged around the Baltic with the family in a sailing boat for a fortnight during the summer.

Sadly, I never knew or met my grandfather who died on 19 April 1950.

It was my immeasurable pleasure to meet Rita Agius and her family in Malta in March last year. Rita being the granddaughter of Josef Cauchi one of the other survivors  who I would like to thank for introducing me to Kevin.  

Best regards,

Ute Lassen Poechman