‘They’ve knocked the bloody bridge down’: Rescuer Bernie Smith recalls night that shook Hobart
Former tugboat skipper Bernie Smith can never forget the terrible noise that shook his Rose Bay home in January 1975, which he instinctively knew was the Tasman Bridge collapsing.
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Bernie Smith can never forget the sound.
On a quiet Sunday night at home in Rose Bay in January 1975, the veteran tugboat skipper was startled by “a terrible noise” – which he instinctively knew was the Tasman Bridge collapsing.
Half a century later, Mr Smith recalled his involvement in the spontaneous search and rescue operation undertaken by a rag-tag flotilla of Hobart boaties, and the Tasmanian maritime tragedy that claimed 12 lives.
“At exactly 27 minutes past nine our whole house shook, and I said to my wife ‘they have knocked the bloody bridge down’,” Mr Smith told the Mercury in the lead-up to the disaster’s 50th anniversary commemoration.
“About five minutes later work rang me from the western shore, so with the bridge out, I took my own dinghy across the river.
PICTURES: The Tasman Bridge disaster gallery
“Already there was flotsam and jetsam in the water, and it was horrible.
“There were flashing lights everywhere, and I could see the bridge’s water pipes just pouring into the river from above.
“You could also see the bridge span out.
“My first thought was ‘how many people are dead’.”
Just half an hour after bulk carrier Lake Illawarra struck the bridge, Mr Smith was on the river with three crewmates aboard the tug Cape Peron, using searchlights to hunt for survivors in the Derwent’s pitch-black waters.
The 84-year-old can still vividly recall what they saw during an operation which continued until dawn.
“It was awful, like something out of a war zone,” Mr Smith said.
“There was oil, deckchairs, and lifebuoys floating everywhere.
“Nobody knew how many people actually had fallen off the bridge at that stage, and so if anyone was going to still be alive, we wanted to give it our best shot to find them.
“Jim Cooper picked up most of the survivors in his boat, and Jerry Chamberlain did too. Charles Hurst was also out there that night.
“It was amazing how many people came out to help.”
Serving under Mr Smith on the Cape Peron was 18-year-old deckhand, Dion Dillon.
Mr Dillon was returning from a Sunday trip to Bruny Island when his mother met him in the driveway of their South Hobart family home.
“Mum came out and said not to bother getting out of the car, because a ship had hit the bridge and I had to go into work,” Mr Dillon said.
“So I drove down to the tug and jumped on board with Bernie and the others.
“What I remember is half the bridge being in darkness with a big gap in it, and the headlights of two cars hanging over the edge.
“The smell of heavy fuel oil also sticks in my mind, because most of the river was covered in a sheen.
“It was all a bit daunting for a teenager, and I still think about that night every time I drive across the bridge.”
Hobart tugboat operator Terry Thompson, who was working in Western Australia at the time, said he learnt of the incident during a radio news bulletin while grocery shopping in North Perth.
Mr Thompson arrived back in his hometown soon afterwards to help with the bridge reconstruction effort.
In solidarity with his merchant navy colleagues, the 75-year-old will join Mr Smith, Mr Dillon and others aboard the Governor’s launch, Egeria, for an informal memorial service on the Derwent on Sunday night to remember the seven Lake Illawarra crew members – and five motorists – who were killed.
“We will be right where it happened at 9.27pm,” Mr Smith said.
“There’s no wreath going over, but a religious minister will give a short service, there will be a few brief speeches, and then Terry will play Amazing Grace on the bagpipes.
“The Tasman Bridge tragedy was terrible, and it’s something that should never have happened.
“It was emotional, and still is.”
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Originally published as ‘They’ve knocked the bloody bridge down’: Rescuer Bernie Smith recalls night that shook Hobart