The two-ship parade passed the Port of Brisbane on their left side, and, off to the north, on their right, or starboard side, Lieutenant Commander Cartwright noticed three commercial aircraft spaced out on their final approach to the Brisbane International Airport. The channel began to narrow slightly as the ships entered the actual entrance of the Brisbane River and more commercial facilities began to appear, predominately on the north shore. Passing the BP Products oil refinery and then Cement Australia, despite the fact that the requirement to maintain proper separation from Defiance required constant attention, Cartwright had continued to allow Midshipman Barker to con the ship. She could detect growing tension in his commands as the procedural formalities increased and the ship’s maneuvering room decreased.
Directly over the port bow about two miles distant, Cartwright observed a small aircraft flying northeasterly, coming low over the Bulimba Creek tributary and turning toward their vessels. Casually, she lifted her binoculars to get a better look. It was a two-engine Beechcraft with what appeared to be a single pilot in the cockpit, flying low and fast at about 200 meters. Cartwright thought this peculiar, given the speed and the flight path to Brisbane International, plus the direction of the morning wind. The commercial airliner’s approach pattern had indicated an approach from the east. But on an otherwise calm Sunday morning, the small anomaly registered no alarm in her mind. She had seen her share of show-off pilots buzzing the local beaches. The small aircraft flew directly over the gap between Defiance and North Lakes on a course for the north shore and, as Cartwright assumed, was probably destined for the airport or for a trip to impress early sunbathers.
Without signs of distress or a change in engine sounds, the aircraft banked slightly and dove directly into a cluster of fuel tanks located along the river shoreline. A huge oil tank exploded on impact. Orange and yellow flames burst forth into the bright morning sky, thick black smoke curling upwards. Several surrounding tanks immediately exploded, flying debris having penetrated their structure. Lieutenant Commander Cartwright was instantly off her chair, moving to the starboard side of the bridge.
“I have the con, navigator has the ship,” Cartwright commanded, thereby relieving Midshipman Barker from his training duties. “Slow ahead both engines,” Cartwright immediately added.
“Captain has the con, slow ahead both engines,” the helmsman repeated while transferring the order to the engine room.
Over the next several moments, all eyes were on the blazing inferno to starboard, which was growing exponentially as surrounding fuel tanks succumbed to the heat and exploding debris. Lieutenant Christensen, the Executive Officer, appeared on the bridge, and Cartwright gave him a terse nod. Cartwright quickly ascertained that Defiance had also slowed her progress. As the full complement on the bridge of both vessels practiced an involuntary ‘eyes right,’ neither ship noticed the second Beechcraft approaching from the port side along the same path as the earlier aircraft until it was only about 500 meters from Defiance.
Five seconds later, the twin engine aircraft slammed into the bridge structure of Defiance, causing the entire ship to shudder. A tremendous explosion followed, ripping through the center of the ship and scattering crew and shards of flying metal in all directions. Flames and thick black smoke rose from the Defiance. After a moment of disbelief, complete bedlam ensued.
Aboard the North Lakes, Cartwright commanded, “Slow astern both engines.” The helmsman repeated the order to the engine room. The captain then picked up the main broadcast microphone. “ Hands to emergency stations. Hands to emergency stations!” she directed, her voice excited, yet steady and tempered. She exchanged an apprehensive look with her XO.
“Dick…” she began.
“I’ll take care of it,” he replied, unspoken understanding passing between them as he left the bridge to assume command of the damage control party.
For some inexplicable reason, in the growing emergency her mind flashed to an incident some months earlier when she had first assumed command and had been on a quiet inspection through the ship. Outside the junior sailor’s recreation space, she overheard several of the sailors talking.
“She’ll run us aground one day, she will. How’d we come up with a bloody Sheila for a cap’n? She don’t belong here.”
“Don’t be flapping yer gums with me, mate. She’ll be right, just wait and see. She’ll come ’round.”
Cartwright had been tempted to exercise her command authority and reprimand the offender, but had refrained, allowing the remark to go unaddressed. Still, it had remained in her thoughts over the next few months. Now, without warning, in an unforeseen emergency, it was time for her to ‘come ’round’.”
Ship’s sirens were going off on the Defiance, reverberating across the gap between both vessels. Defiance was dead in the water, flames leaping from the foredeck and superstructure. Sailors were in the water directly in front of North Lakes, having either been blown off the deck or jumping in to avoid the spreading flames.
Lieutenant Commander Cartwright knew the men and women in the water, if not badly injured, could make it to shore, just over a hundred meters on the starboard side of the ship. Many were swimming toward the North Lakes or the opposite shore, over two hundred meters distant, determined to avoid the inferno in the fuel storage facility on the north bank. She could see the sailors remaining on Defiance trying to organize to fight the fire, appearing on deck in protective clothing and rushing to the forward section of the ship.
“Nav, take the con,” she commanded. “Bring us close alongside, slowly now.”
“Ma’am, she’s fully ablaze. We can’t get any closer,” Lieutenant Canidy, the navigator who had assumed control from Midshipman Barker, responded.
“I said bring us alongside, Mr. Canidy,” she confirmed, her voice remaining controlled, but directive. Barker stood rooted to his spot on the far side of the bridge, unsure of his responsibilities or how to respond to the growing crisis.
“Aye, ma’am, coming alongside,” Canidy responded, taking a measure of courage from his commander’s confident tone and demeanor.
The heat became intense as North Lakes slowly crept up on the port beam of Defiance, her once-proud superstructure now a mangled inferno of twisted steel. Lieutenant Commander Cartwright surveyed the chaotic scene. White uniformed sailors, both men and women, were strewn across the deck, some motionless, others struggling to escape the conflagration, many already having gone over the side into the water. At both ends of the Defiance, damage control teams were feverishly attempting to slow the fire’s advance.
Her own damage control team, directed by Lieutenant Christensen, the XO, were standing by their railings, hoses in hand, the spouting water already beginning to arch across the gap as the two newly commissioned warships, their military designation now more than simple definition, drew closer together. Other North Lakes crew were on their port side, lowering the Jacob’s ladder, single ropes, and tossing life preservers into the water, beginning to assist with retrieving Defiance sailors from the river. Several of the North Lakes crew had already jumped overboard in full dress uniform to save injured and burned sailors from going under.
Ashore, the activity increased dramatically over the next several minutes with the sounds of the Brisbane fire brigade racing to the scene of the fire. What had started to be a dress white ceremonial day, an easy day of public relations and naval pride in support of the Queensland celebrations, had quickly turned into an inferno of immense proportions. Cartwright knew that sailors had died, that more might yet die under her orders. It was the classic lesson in command that had been reviewed at the Naval College at HMAS Creswell. Her instructor’s words rang clear in her mind. ‘ Command isn’t a question of whether or not you’re prepared to die for your crew, but whether you’re prepared to order some of your crew to die for everyone else. ’