Part of the
Acorn Archive
Hearts of Oak
Captain J L Vivian Millett
Part 5
Part
One Part Two Part Three Part
Four
Part
Five Part Six Part Seven Part
Eight
Part Nine Part Ten
Part Eleven Part Twelve
That was
the last I saw of THE TWEED. Four years afterwards she was totally dismasted
off the Cape, when on a voyage from Trincomalee to New York, and was picked up
and towed into Algoa Bay by one of Donald Currie's coasting steamers. Shortly
after she anchored a south-easterly gale sprang up, and thirteen sailing ships
were driven ashore. THE TWEED's anchors dragging, she got into shoal water and
bumped her stern post out. She was afterwards condemned and broken up, and her
frames were used as arches for the roof of a church then being built in Port
Elizabeth.
All the
clothes I had to go home in were those I had been wearing for the last two
weeks during the bitter cold weather, namely, a white linen suit with a light
blue serge on top, and sea-boots to complete the costume. I expect I looked a
pretty disreputable customer, but I remember how hurt I felt when my mother,
after her first embrace, exclaimed "Oh, good heavens, do go and have a
bath at once!".
I
naturally wanted to sit and talk about my experiences, but off I had to go and
have my bath. Then I went straight to bed, and slept the clock round, which
shows that, although I did not know it, I was thoroughly worn out.
I had
only been at home six weeks when I received notice to join the famous ship
CUTTY SARK. She was commanded at that time by Captain Moore, who had spent most
of his time in the China clippers. He was a bearded man of middle height, with
a deep voice; and though he was exceedingly reserved, he seldom spoke to
anyone, I found him very kind. I rather think Captain White, who had no love
for me, had tried to set him against me, for one day when I was at the wheel
Captain Moore had occasion to find fault with me, and told me that he had heard
all about me from my former captain. I was deeply hurt that he should have
received a bad report of me, but I looked him straight in the face and said
"You will always find that I will do my best, sir".
From
that time until I left Captain Moore gave me every encouragement to do as I had
said, and when I finished my indentures he gave me a most excellent reference,
which is still among my most valued possessions. The mate of the CUTTY SARK was
named Dimint; he also was a bearded man, and though a good seaman he was no
disciplinarian. He made two or three more voyages in the ship after I left her,
under the famous Captain Woodget, but he was one of those men who seem destined
never to rise higher than mate. I never saw him again until 1901, when I
visited a ship in the West India Dock of which he turned out to be mate. Of
course he did not recognize me until I told him who I was, and then we had a
fine old yarn together. In 1903 he called at my office and implored me to give
him a job on shore, as he was sick of the sea and the unsailorlike crews that
he had to handle. All I could offer him was a night-watchman's job, which he
thankfully accepted, and he did his work well until he died a few years ago. It
always used to hurt me to hear the poor old chap call me "sir" when I
remembered how in my early days it was he who had the "sir" from me.
The second
officer, Egan, was one of those colourless people of whom one seems to remember
nothing but a name; but Jacques, the senior apprentice and acting third mate,
was not only a real good sort, but very well up to his work. He afterwards
joined the Eastern Telegraph service, and I kept in touch with him until he
died; at that time he was chief officer of the MIRROR.
The
CUTTY SARK carried eight apprentices and the same number of able seamen. One
apprentice was Jackson, the son of the chief manager of the London and Shanghai
Bank. He was quite a good sailor-man, but being a good-looking chap he had a
great opinion of himself, and liked to go on shore in brass-bound rig, when he
always received many a "glad eye" from the girls. He afterwards joined
the P. & 0. Company and became chief officer of the NUBIA, but, thinking to
better his position, he went out to the Australian coast, and the poor chap
very shortly afterwards died.
Sykes,
my special chum, was a third-year boy, son of a clergyman in Yorkshire. He also
joined the P. & 0. Company, and died of typhoid in Bombay when he was third
officer. Then there was Farnham, also good at his work. He afterwards went into
the British India coasting trade, and I heard that he also died out there.
Another
apprentice was named Vaughan. He was a red-headed second-voyager who put us all
to shame on the first night we were together by kneeling down and saying his
prayers. He had a daily-text roll, which he scrupulously turned over each day,
and there is no doubt that seeing him so religious made a great impression on
the rest of us, though I fear that our respect for his piety did not go so far
as to make us emulate his example! Sad to relate, later on, when running the
easting down we not only lost our respect for him but he lost his own for
himself. It came on to blow hard and all hands were called on deck to shorten
sail. We were all out on the upper topsail yard, trying to smother the sail,
when we heard someone using some of the worst language even we had ever heard.
Imagine our astonishment when we discovered that the voice was that of our
immaculate Vaughan, who was letting off his feelings because the sail had
flapped up and hit him on the nose! After that poor Vaughan gave up the
religious role. I never saw him again after I finished my time.
We were
a hefty lot of lads, and had evidently been selected for that reason, in order
that a smaller crew forward could be carried; but the CUTTY SARK handled like a
yacht, and the six of us who were free to do the work when on watch found no
difficulty at all in working the ship. As soon as she cast off the tug we
realized what a fast ship we were in. She simply slid through the water, and we
overhauled and passed every ship ahead of us, sometimes going past them as if
they were at anchor. She seemed to sail equally well on every point of the
wind. Perhaps she did best with strong quartering breezes, but just the flap of
her sails was enough to send her along, and if there was any wind at all she
would move through the water at a greater speed than any other ship under the
same circumstances.
I found
the CUTTY SARK a far happier ship to be in than THE TWEED. The discipline was
strict, but the captain and his officers never said a word to us so long as we
did our work. We went about our duties with a better spirit, and the memory of
the way we had been bullied in THE TWEED
soon faded from my mind. Of course, with such a small crew as the ship
carried, we boys had to do men's work, for which we were fully qualified, and
no difference was made between ourselves and the men as regarded either work or
treatment.
The
accommodation for apprentices was in a small house situated on the fore side of
the after hatch, and eight of us lived in a space of about fifteen feet by
eighteen. We were, however, very comfortable and happy, except when the ship
was taking water aboard, when it was nine chances out of ten that we got a
ducking when we opened the door. The CUTTY SARK was a ship that would stand up
to be driven, but she was very lively in a heavy sea, and used to jerk instead
of lying down smoothly to an extra gust of wind. Well do I know it, for one day
off the Horn I had gone along to the galley to get my breakfast, which on that
occasion consisted of a soaked biscuit with a lump of fat frizzling on it. With
this and my tin of coffee both my hands were full. It was blowing hard, and the
ship as usual was jerking considerably. On my way aft someone stopped me to
speak to me ; just then the ship gave an extra jerk, and, both my hands being full
of my precious breakfast, I was unable to save myself. I must have turned a
half somersault, for the first point that I struck was my nose! I had the
greatest difficulty in stopping the bleeding; in fact, I thought my nose was
broken. But it was no use making a fuss, so I turned in, and when the watch was
over went to take my turn at the wheel as usual. I had not been there long when
Captain Moore suddenly paused in his pacing of the poop to say in his gruff
voice "Who gave you that knock on the nose?" I replied "No one, sir" and he
turned away, but he looked as if he were saying to himself, "Bally young
liar!" My nose soon regained its proper shape, but I carry the scar even
now, and shall do so to the grave, by way of souvenir of the old CUTTY SARK.
The men,
who were an extremely able lot of fellows, thought that as usual they could
boss us about, and for a time we, not knowing any better, allowed them to do
so. When we got into the Tropics we apprentices started to pommel each other in
the dog-watch with a pair of boxing gloves someone had brought on board. We
pommelled pretty hard, too, and the men used to sit night after night and watch
our bouts. After a time we got tired of boxing always with the same opponents,
so we went for'ard and challenged the men to put the gloves on. There were no
takers ; and after that the boot was on the other leg. Instead of the men
bullying us, it was we who bossed them ; indeed, it wasn't long before we were
absolute buckos where they were concerned, when they hung back from taking
their share in going aloft to take in the light sails.
We had a
fine run down to the Line and soon got the south-east trade. I remember now as
if it were yesterday standing at the wheel, the ship being closehauled at the
time, and Captain Moore turning to me to say "Look at her, my boy, and
take note what I say. No other ship could do what this ship is doing now,
namely, thirteen and a half knots on the wind." She was magnificent to
sail by the wind ; I have been at the wheel for two hours and never moved the
spoke out of my hand, only the distance that my arm could reach being
sufficient to steer her by. Running the easting down she simply flew through
the water. Standing at the wheel it was terrifying to see the huge seas rolling
up after her. Every time she dipped her stern they looked as if they must swamp
her, but I never saw her poop a sea.
The
night before we got to Newcastle the fore royal stay carried away, causing the
royal mast to fracture and bend. We took in the fore royal, and next morning,
when we arrived in Newcastle, we did not look very shipshape with the bent
royal mast. We immediately sent the royal yard down, which was a very risky
thing to do, as there was a chance of the whole royal mast giving way in the
process; however, the only harm it did was to extend the fracture. We then sent
down the topgallant yard, and for some reason or other the chief officer
decided that the best way would be to break the royal mast off before sending
down the topgallant mast. In its fall it carried away the cross-trees, and the
whole job was done in such an unseamanlike manner that it made us the
laughingstock of Newcastle.
Our
cargo consisted of general merchandise, including a considerable quantity of
cases of wines and spirits, and I heard afterwards that there were claims for
pilferage amounting to close upon three hundred pounds.
The
steward was a young and very decent sort of chap, but I fear that he was
responsible for a good deal of this pilferage. He was always calling us
apprentices into his cabin to "crack a bottle of champagne"; although
we never asked where it came from, we had a pretty shrewd idea that he used to
get it when he went below for flour from the tanks, round which the cases of
wine were stored. But, of course, we did not split when Captain Moore wanted to
know how the pilferage happened.
The
CUTTY SARK was a favourite ship in Newcastle ; nearly everybody kept open house
for us apprentices, and we came in for a good deal of jealousy from the boys of
other ships when they saw us cutting them out with their best girls. We had a
real good time in port, and one day had a holiday in consequence of a barque
called the GLADSTONE challenging us at cricket. We accepted the challenge but
got hopelessly beaten.
Rugg,
the mate of the GLADSTONE, succeeded to the command of the ship about that
time. Later, when the NEOTSFIELD was built for the same owners, he was put in
charge of her, and remained in her until she was sold immediately before the
war. He was then offered the command of a pretty little barque, the DEE,
trading between Mauritius and Australia. He was unlucky enough to fall in with
the German raider MOEWE, and was a prisoner on board that ship for several
months.
We
loaded wool at Newcastle for London, and presently took the tugboat to tow us
outside, where we started to make sail. A strong westerly gale was blowing, and
as soon as we got the topsails set the tug had to cast off in a great hurry,
otherwise we should have been on top of her!
Christmas
Day we spent off the Horn under very uncomfortable conditions, running before
the gale with every stitch set. My job on Christmas morning was to help to bend
a new topgallant sail, and a mighty cold one it was, the worst of it all being
that when one got perished with cold there was no fire except that in the
galley, and that, of course, was prohibited to us. I remember that we passed a
ship beating against the gale, and I have often wondered what the crew of that
ship thought when they saw us running before the gale with everything set. We
sailed between two enormous icebergs, and although they were two miles away the
cold was much greater while we were in their vicinity.
We took
twenty-two days to get to the Horn, which was mighty good going, and then we made
for home, and had an uneventful passage to Dunge-ness, where we took our pilot.
Shortly afterwards a tugboat came alongside, but the skipper opened his mouth
so wide that Captain Moore refused to take him. "You're making a big
mistake, cap'n," he said "there's an easterly wind comin' along.
Better think twice about it!"
However, Captain Moore sat tight, and presently, the breeze freshening,
we soon left the tugboat behind, and in less than an hour she was out of sight!
Another tugboat ultimately took us in tow for London. When passing Ramsgate we
hoisted the house-flag, as was the custom in all Willis's ships, so that
Captain Willis, who spent much of his time there, would know we had arrived.
Just
before we reached Gravesend we apprentices were ordered to put a harbour stow
on the crossjack. I was in charge of the bunt, and, all of us being excited at
getting home, I started the chantey "Paddy won't pay for his boots"
and all the others joined lustily in the chorus, much to Captain Moore's
amusement and Mr. Dimint's indignation. And that, as it turned out, was the
last time I was to be on a sailing ship's yard.
We did
not stop at Gravesend, but towed right up and arrived in the East India Dock
late at night. The men were told by Mr. Dimint that they had finished, but we
apprentices received orders to wash the decks down before we left the ship the
next morning. That was on a Sunday, so our curses were loud and deep ; but
there it was. The work had to be done, and those who, like myself, lived in
London, managed to get home in time for dinner.
That was
the last voyage I made in sail, and it is one I am proud to remember. To have
served in such a vessel as the CUTTY SARK is a memory worth the having, and
when, a year or two ago, I once more gripped the old ship's familiar
wheel-spokes, forty-four years seemed to slip off my shoulders, and I was a boy
again.
Raymond
Forward