"Carnatic"—this was the name given to this "steamer," a vessel powered by steam (though also capable of sailing) weighing 1,776 tonnes and measuring 90 metres in length, when it was launched in December 1862 at the Samuda Bros shipyard in London. A year later, it became part of the P&O shipping company, tasked with transporting passengers from Suez to China, via Bombay.
Thus, it undertook the second leg of the journey many colonists made from the metropolis to the outposts of the British Empire. At the time, the Suez Canal did not yet exist, so shipping companies would take their passengers to Alexandria, from where they had to travel overland to Suez to re-embark, avoiding the perilous route around Africa.
Its Final Voyage
During the second week of September 1869, the Carnatic, under the command of Captain Philip Buton Jones, was in Suez loading its cargo. This time, alongside 34 passengers and 176 crew, it carried a valuable load of cotton, metal sheets, mail, and £40,000 in cash destined for the Indian Mint.
Finally, on Sunday, 12 September, the Carnatic set sail for Bombay. Captain Jones knew this route well and was aware of the dangers lurking in the Gulf of Suez, so he took to the bridge day and night to personally oversee navigation in the area. The ship maintained a steady speed of 11 knots until the Ashrafi lighthouse came into view at 23:40, just as the watch was changing and the first mate took over.
All seemed well. At 1 a.m., the first mate spotted Shadwan Island ahead, but inexplicably, the helmsman altered course to 46° and then gradually to 51°. Just 18 minutes later, they were upon the reefs. Though they immediately changed course and went full steam ahead, it was too late—the coral barrier tore through the starboard hull.
The captain, upon assessing the damage, believed the ship could stay afloat for the time being by bailing water and jettisoning much of the cotton cargo. He decided it was safer for both crew and passengers to remain aboard.
The next day, despite taking on water, the ship remained afloat in relatively good shape, with pumps working constantly. The passengers were calm, so the captain chose to wait.
A Hope That Didn’t Arrive in Time
The Sumatra, another ship from the same company, was due to pass by en route to Suez that same day, and the captain hoped it could rescue them, avoiding the need to evacuate 210 people—passengers and crew—to distant Shadwan Island, not to mention the hardships they’d endure until rescue. So, he ordered dinner to be served onboard.
The crew spent hours scanning the horizon for the Sumatra, but it never appeared. The captain decided to spend another night aboard, trusting the ship would hold, despite some passengers’ pleas to evacuate.
At 2 a.m. on the 14th, water reached the boilers—it was definitive. The ship was sinking irreversibly, but the captain waited until 11 a.m. before allowing the first passengers to abandon ship, still hopeful for the Sumatra’s arrival. Just as women and children boarded the first lifeboat, the Carnatic split in two, and the stern sank within minutes, claiming the lives of 5 passengers and 26 crew. Thirty-four hours stranded on a coral reef had been too much.
The rest of the ship soon followed. Those in the water fought for their lives among the wreckage until they reached the floating lifeboats. Once safe, the men took turns rowing day and night to Shadwan Island, navigating more coral reefs.
Ashore, cotton washed up by the tide helped keep them dry until the long-awaited Sumatra finally appeared.
Upon returning to Suez, the captain was summoned to England for an official inquiry. The boatswain was found guilty of the wreck for failing to verify the lighthouse’s position on the chart and was barred from sailing for nine months. Captain Jones, a young but seasoned sailor with ample experience on Asian and transatlantic routes, never sailed again by choice.
Diving the Carnatic Wreck
This magnificent wreck lies on the Sha’b Abu Nuhas reef, two miles north of Shadwan Island, at the entrance to the Gobal Strait, heading toward the Suez Canal.
Resting near the reef’s base alongside two other great wrecks—the "Ghiannis D" and the "Chrisoula K"—it’s possible to skim the surface of all three in a single dive.
The Carnatic lies on its port side on a sandy seabed with small rocks, at a depth of 27 metres. The bow, facing east, is the shallowest part, resting on the reef wall at 18 metres, while the propeller lies at 27 metres. Though the ship split in two before sinking, it now rests almost seamlessly joined.
The stern is one of the most fascinating sections. When diving, we recommend starting here, as it’s the deepest point.
It’s remarkably intact, with the sterncastle’s seven distinctive square windows visible, along with the rudder and the ship’s large three-bladed propeller—a relic of this beautiful hybrid sail-steam vessel, among the last of its kind.
Moving along either side, you’ll see the lifeboat davits, lowered to evacuate crew and passengers moments before the final sinking.
The ship, built of steel and wood, is in good overall condition, though most wooden parts have rotted away.
Another must-see is its interior. Easily accessible, you can explore the space between the vanished deck and the steel framework beneath in an eerie journey, lit by natural light streaming through gaps—though a torch will help spot details and the vibrant marine life, like countless colourful soft corals.
In the holds, remnants of cargo—cotton bales and metal—still linger, and with luck, perhaps a coin from the £18,000 legend says was never recovered. Amidships, you’ll find the massive coal boiler and the inverted four-cylinder engine that once drove the ship.
Lastly, visit the shallowest part: the bow at 18 metres, nestled against the reef. Look for the copper ring that once held the bowsprit, the figurehead beneath it, and—faint but discernible—the ship’s name.
To conclude the dive, ascend along the reef wall, surrounded by reef fish like ubiquitous coral groupers (Cephalopholis miniata) and lionfish (Pterois volitans).
