A life saved, a friendship born

In the throes of the Wahine disaster, chance brought together an infant girl and a stranger, and forged an enduring bond, writes Kerry Williamson.

The Dominion Post

Lesley Morgan was holding on in the lifeboat for dear life when the tiny bundle was dropped in her lap. Wrapped tightly in a damp woollen blanket was a baby, not much older than 15 months. She was soaked through and chilled to the bone, barely making a noise.

The child had been drifting in the frigid waters of Wellington Harbour, in the arms of a stranger who risked his own life to save her.

Mrs Morgan, a tall 51-year-old, didn't know where the baby came from or who handed it to her.

But in the boiling seas, she treated the infant as though it were her own. She hugged it tightly, cuddling it to keep it warm and safe.

She did that for God knows how long, till the overcrowded lifeboat - the last to leave the stricken Wahine - nudged the shore near Seatoun Beach.

"Someone lifted her out of the water, someone put a blanket around her, and someone handed her to me," says Mrs Morgan, now a sprightly 91 and one of the oldest Wahine survivors.

"She was separated from her mother. So I nursed her. I just cuddled her - she was very good."

Mrs Morgan handed the baby to rescuers before she, too, was lifted from the lifeboat and carried ashore and on to a waiting bus that took her to Wellington railway station.

For the longest time, she did not know who the baby was. She often wondered what had happened to the little girl she helped to save, but had no idea what had happened to her after she was taken from the lifeboat.

Then one day, almost exactly 25 years after the Wahine rolled near Steeple Rock, she heard a knock at her front door.

Standing there was a young woman, who stepped forward hesitantly. Joanne Finlayson said quietly: "You don't know who I am . . ."

"That was the first moment we'd caught up," says Mrs Morgan, "after all those years."

LESLEY MORGAN was heading home to Wellington after a short trip to Christchurch when she boarded the Wahine in Lyttelton on April 9, 1968.

She was to be met by her husband, Jack, at the terminal when the ferry docked. The pair were then heading for a holiday in Australia.

Mrs Morgan had travelled by ferry several times, and had settled into a necessary routine. She always struggled to find her sea legs and suffered from sea sickness, so would go early to bed, then rise and head above decks about an hour before the boat would dock.

So while others relaxed in the lounges, Mrs Morgan went to bed and tried to get some sleep. The crossing was largely uneventful till the ferry neared the entrance to Wellington Harbour. There, it sailed into a massive storm that was battering the capital.

"I would always get up early so that I would get a seat at the gangway, and of course I was up early when they said, `everybody for their lifebelts'. Well, my legs just went to jelly."

Mrs Morgan helped an elderly woman with her lifejacket, then walked to one of the boardrooms where other passengers and crew were gathered. She sat in a corner of the room and clung to a curtain to steady herself, as the ship listed further and further.

Sitting in the living room of her unit at the Shona McFarlane Retirement Village in Avalon, Lower Hutt, she recalls: "The men were all seated at the tables and never offered a seat. The crew were very kind to us, got us fed. But they didn't tell us anything - nobody had a wireless, nobody spoke.

"And all you could see were the waves and you could feel the rolling of the boat. I suppose my stomach must have frozen, because I wasn't sick."

Mrs Morgan was one of the lucky ones - she sat at the low end of the ship, the one nearest the water. She watched as others slid down the floor from the other side of the room, some crashing into furniture and breaking bones.

She is not sure how long she sat there, but vividly recalls the order to abandon ship, when it eventually came.

"They said, 'Everybody to the lifeboats', and I went into the biggest one."

***

While Lesley Morgan was setting out in the No2 lifeboat, Joanne's mother, Lyn Brittain, was making the toughest decision of her life.

Pregnant with her second child, unable to swim, and with no lifeboats anywhere near the Wahine's listing hull, the 23-year-old was forced to trust her daughter to a stranger.

So she turned to Brian Papesch, 21, and asked him to take Joanne. The two then jumped into the water and floated together before the waves separated them.

Mr Papesch floated on his back and put Joanne on his chest, holding her above water. They drifted toward Seatoun for about an hour, Mr Papesch gently nudging Joanne to keep her awake.

"He knew if I was crying I was still alive," says Joanne - now Joanne Finlayson.

Eventually, Mr Papesch saw a lifeboat in the haze and managed to get alongside. Somehow he found the strength to hand Joanne to reaching passengers, before climbing on board himself.

It was then that Joanne was handed to Lesley Morgan, who held her tight as the lifeboat continually threatened to capsize.

She nestled her on her lap and made her as comfortable as possible.

The lifeboat was tossed on the heaving sea and carried back toward the ferry, now fully on its side and partially submerged.

Mrs Morgan could see hundreds of people in the water, a scene she will never forget.

"I've got a good memory, an excellent memory," she says.

"It was horrible. I think the worst part was being in the lifeboat and seeing all those people in the water. A lot of the ones that drowned had their lifejackets upside down. Nobody checked we had them on properly.

"As you went up [the waves] you could see all the people down below. Then as you went down, that's when they gathered people in. The boat was absolutely chocka. How we got to shore, I don't know."

***

After Mrs Morgan handed the child to rescuers on shore, Joanne was taken to hospital in the Hutt and listed as "unclaimed". Her parents were unaware if she was alive or dead.

Her mother, Lyn, had drifted across to Eastbourne where she came ashore, and had no idea where her daughter was. Her father was waiting frantically at the police station, when a friend called to say she had just seen Joanne on a television broadcast.

The red-haired toddler had become a cause celebre at the hospital and had featured on the nightly news. Her parents rushed to the hospital and were reunited with their daughter late on the night of April 10.

The family rarely talked about what happened that day, but Lyn Brittain always wondered who had helped to save her daughter. When the 25th anniversary rolled around, she and Joanne returned to Wellington and began putting together the pieces of the puzzle.

"Mum worked out who was who and we got in touch with Brian and Lesley. And we've kept in touch from there," says Mrs Finlayson, now a theatre nurse at Grace Hospital in Tauranga.

The three now share a special bond, one that will be strengthened when they are reunited at next month's 40th anniversary commemorations.

Mrs Finlayson and Mrs Morgan have remained in touch ever since the day Joanne showed up at Mrs Morgan's doorstep. They send each other cards and talk often.

When Mrs Finlayson had her first son, Christopher, Lesley and Jack Morgan sent a big teddy bear. Hamish, Mrs Finlayson's younger boy, now sleeps with the bear every night. Hamish knows where it comes from.

"It's like having a Nana," says Mrs Finlayson.

"Lesley's family just welcomed myself and my family like we are a part of them. They are very, very welcoming to us. It's very special.

"I don't know if any other survivors have what we have. I just don't know.

"We've kept in touch ever since," says Mrs Morgan. "She looks upon us as really special relations.

"I remember one day, I rang her and she said, `You are so special, I love you.' That's special, that sort of thing."