The Hydrabad on Waiterere Beach, used here to indicate a derelict shipwreck on the beach.

The title of this story is taken from an afterthought expressed by a seaman (possibly the Lyttelton Harbour Pilot) and recorded in the writings of Samuel Butler who arrived on board the Roman Emperor. As the Roman Emperor approached the port the Pilot Launch came out to meet her. They sailed past each other in stoney silence, no doubt casting an eye over each other as they passed. Captain Dewar of the Roman Emperor called out to ask if the ship Robert Small had arrived at this port. The reply that came across the water was brief and foreboding; "No...nor yet the Burmah." It was January 27th 1860, fully one month since the Burmah had been expected to arrive.

Both the Roman Emperor and Robert Small had left London within 5 days of each other but did not cross paths during the long voyage south. It was common for Captains in those days to lay down an unofficial challenge to other Captains travelling the same route. Captain Dewar, leaving London first and keen to stay ahead of Captain Darke, may have said "I'll be there when you arrive in Lyttelton" to which the reply from Captain Darke may very well have been "Not if I'm already there when you arrive."

The reference to the non-arrival of the Burmah would have filled Samuel Butler with dread tempered with a pinch of relief. He had originally booked and paid for passage in the Burmah to meet his resolve to emigrate as quickly as possible to Canterbury. It has been said that this was to escape from the presence of an over-bearing father who had planned for him a life and career somewhat divergent from that chosen by Samuel himself. In the end Samuel had been compelled to give up this berth on the Burmah as the vessel had undergone extensive alterations to accommodate the prize livestock it was to carry to New Zealand. These alterations resulted in cramped passenger accommodation, not at all to his liking. When it sailed the Burmah carried only 22 passengers, 7 of whom were grooms charged with caring for the stock on board.

Indeed the 718 ton Burmah had left on its voyage over a month ahead of the Roman Emperor and had so far failed to arrive. The weeks without sight of her turned into months and still no news. Assumptions that she may have put into an Australian port on her way were not confirmed as no news was heard from across the Tasman. The reports in the newspapers from Otago, Canterbury, Nelson and Wellington became more and more fearful that the worst fate had befallen the ship, her passengers and her cargo. Had she been lost with all hands?

After her departure from London a positive sighting of the Burmah was made but once. This was by the 676 ton Regina, also on her way to Lyttelton and which was to arrive safely on December 4th after a rather smart passage of 93 days. In longitude 97^o east and latitude 48^o south the two ships had been within speaking distance of each other and the Regina was to report nothing amiss with the Burmah. The readings would have placed the Burmah a long way to the south and west of Cape Leuwin on the south west tip of the Australian mainland almost on the longitude of the Crozet and Kerguelen Islands. Not an unusual place to be on this journey but 48 degrees was somewhat further south than most vessels travelled when making the great eastward run from the Cape of Good Hope to New Zealand. On her arrival the Regina was to report sighting icebergs on the day after she spoke the Burmah.

History relates the fact that the Burmah never arrived at her destination and in the following one hundred and forty four years nothing positive has come to light that would confirm her fate. Brief glimpses into the past may shed light on her end but all of these are merely recorded events which serve to tantalise the student of history. Frustrating though it might be the resolution of this story is with you the reader. Here we record these events and leave the decision to you. We can offer no absolute solution.

Events pointing to the possible end of the ship Burmah:

1. As has been mentioned, the Regina, on her arrival at Lyttelton, recorded sighting icebergs the day after she spoke the Burmah. While not presenting a major danger to an alert captain and crew by day, being amongst icebergs at night might increase the danger of striking one. It must also be pointed out that the Burmah was somewhat further south than most ships commonly travelled at that time. Did she strike an iceberg and sink? Does this account for her complete disappearance and the lack of any further record of her?
2. The Lyttelton Times records the departure of the coaster Dunedin on its way north to Lyttelton. On that day and the next a heavy gale was blowing sufficient to make the Captain of the Dunedin hove to for fear of missing the entrance to Lyttelton Harbour. The item reports the immigrant ship Sevilla arriving on the day before the Dunedin sailed and as she left the harbour she is reported as sighting "a large vessel carrying stock probably the Burmah." Indeed the Burmah was destined for Dunedin after which she would proceed to Lyttelton but why was her presence within the harbour entrance not further recorded? If she had she foundered there would she not have been seen and assistance rendered? And if the worst had happened, one must also assume wreckage and bodies. Did the Captain enter the port and then, for some reason, turn around and leave to disappear elsewhere? Why? If so her fate still remains a mystery.
3. A more plausible reason was noted by us in the Wellington Independent of January 5th 1871, an item which had been copied from the Otago Daily Times. A Special Constable recorded that he had seen the wreck of a ship on the beach at the mouth of the Tautuku River near the Catlins on the South Island's south eastern coast. The ships nameboard had on it 6 letters of which the first was described as being a 'B' or an 'F'. The rest was illegible. The paper draws rather a long bow but does suggest that the 'B' was the "...name of the Burmah being the former letter, while the word itself consists of six letters." No further explanation of this wreckage has been found and one wonders, in seeking an explanation for this mystery, if this was indeed the Burmah?

Had the Burmah foundered in the storm that raged that day on the Otago and Canterbury coast and drifted south to be cast up on Tautuku Beach? Why then would it not have been spotted for eleven years?

Had she indeed struck an iceberg in the great southern ocean, losing her passengers to her lifeboats and herself to a fate unknown? There are currents which traverse these climes and curl around the south eastern coast of the South Island sufficient to bear a ship to its final resting place. But what of her passengers?

Had she been overwhelmed and dismasted by immense seas and left to founder until she sank below the waves? There were other vessels who had survived such events, the Dallam Tower for instance, and sailors are nothing if not tenacious, inventive and determined.

Your guess is as good as ours.

Copyright Denise & Peter 2005