Voyager sailor recalls night of disaster

HMAS Voyager stood no chance. The giant bow of aircraft carrier HMAS Melbourne loomed out of the evening darkness, slamming into the smaller ship, slicing her in two and claiming 82 lives.

Sailors were thrown onto Voyager's steel deck. Those near the impact died instantly. Others were trapped inside flooding compartments.

Fourteen officers, 67 sailors and a civilian dockyard employee were killed while 232 survived after Voyager steered in front of Melbourne.

The enormity of what occurred 50 years ago this Monday was evident in the giant gash to Melbourne's bow, plainly visible as the carrier steamed back into Sydney Harbour.

The Voyager-Melbourne collision is Australia's worst ever peacetime naval disaster, a transcendent event which shook the navy and government, prompted two royal commissions and scarred survivors and family members.

It remains the most controversial event in the Royal Australian Navy's post-war history and, against it, more recent scandals pale into insignificance.

The disaster will be remembered on Monday, when 200-300 survivors of Voyager and Melbourne and relatives of all those aboard, will sail on HMAS Choules for a commemorative service over the wreck site, 20 nautical miles off Jervis Bay.

The bell at HMAS Creswell, Jervis Bay, will sound 82 times for each life lost, starting at 8.56pm, the moment of impact.

The first royal commission found Voyager mostly at fault for failing to maintain full awareness of her position.

Melbourne was criticised for failing to alert Voyager to her peril or take measures to prevent collision. Many felt Melbourne's captain John Robertson had been made a scapegoat.

Prompted by media reports, the government launched a second royal commission in 1967, focusing on claims that Voyager's commander Captain Duncan Stevens, who died that night, was unfit for command through illness or drunkenness or both.

This inquiry found him medically unfit, though not impaired by alcohol. Robertson and other officers on Melbourne were absolved of blame.

However, because all but one of those on Voyager's bridge died, the precise cause remains unclear to this day.

There are different theories, including that those on Voyager's bridge misunderstood signals and misjudged the amount of room to change course.

The accident launched a blizzard of litigation, with Voyager survivors and subsequently some from Melbourne, seeking compensation. The final case was resolved only in 2009.

John Hannay, secretary of the HMAS Voyager Survivors Association, told AAP that 176 of the 232 sailors plucked from the water that night remain alive. Some 43 plus next of kin from across Australia and around the world will attend reunion activities this weekend.

He says memories remain fresh and raw, and the 50th anniversary was a major event for their group.

As a 20-year-old sailor, he was on duty in Voyager's B engine room that night.

"We got a pipe over the PA system `hands to collision stations'. It was a just a bang and the ship rocked," he recalled.

Mr Hannay thought Voyager had struck a submarine participating in the exercise. A senior sailor sent him topside to check.

"I went up through the hatch and the front section of the ship had gone," he said.

After starting a diesel generator to run pumps and lights, he and others returned to the deck.

"There was a guy in a white boiler suit and he just said `Sailor take your boiler boots off' which I did. He said `See that liferaft - swim to it'. He just pushed me in the back over the side."

Mr Hannay counts himself one of the lucky ones. Voyager's aft section remained afloat until shortly after midnight, permitting orderly evacuation of survivors.

Most lives were lost in the front section which sank in 10 minutes. Among them was Chief Petty Officer Jonathan Rogers, who ushered others through a tiny escape hatch and as the ship settled, led his doomed comrades in prayer and hymns. He was posthumously awarded the George Cross.

Mr Hannay said nobody really knew what caused the collision.

"The people who know what happened are no longer with us. You can't put the blame on any one person. It's something that has happened. It's like a car accident. It's something in the Navy that should never have happened but it did," he said.

"You have just got to get together, stay together, like we have done with the association, and look after each other."

John Perryman, the navy's senior historical officer, said that until that night, Voyager was a proud, happy and efficient ship with seven years service throughout South-East Asia.

Yet what was remembered was a three-minute period of a routine exercise which ended in disaster, he said.

The tragedy is used in navy training to underscore the perils of life at sea and the need for good training and vigilance.

"The legacy of Voyager has remained in the consciousness of the Royal Australian Navy. We hope we will never again experience a disaster of that magnitude," Mr Perryman said.

"It certainly dealt the Navy a hammer blow. Up to that time we had a very good record."

"It came as an absolute shock that something like this could happen in fairly benign conditions in what was seen as a routine exercise."

Mr Perryman said Voyager had lessons for the modern day navy, which later this year will commission HMAS Canberra, the first of new two new landing helicopter dock ships.

At 27,500 tonnes, these are almost twice the size of Melbourne and will be the largest ships ever to serve in the Australian navy.

"It is certainly in the Navy interest to remember the lesson of that night when it comes to operating this large vessel," he said.