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Hearts of Oak
Captain J L Vivian Millett
Part 11
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I had
been on shore two months when my old captain in the WEYBRIDGE, on his arrival
at Hamburg, asked the owners for leave for a voyage, which was granted, and I
was appointed to the ship. It seemed strange to take the ship over from a man I
disliked so much, and to find myself master where, as mate, I had passed so
many unpleasant hours. It was bitterly cold when I got to Hamburg, and the ship
was frozen in. I had to walk across ice fifteen inches thick to get to her. The
remarkable thing was that the dry cold was not nearly so unpleasant as cold
weather in England without a vestige of frost in the air.
We
sailed shortly after for Cardiff and went under the tips to load coal. I found
that a strike of sailors and firemen was taking place under the guidance, for
the first time, of Mr. Havelock Wilson, who was claiming that he was holding up
all the shipping in the port. He certainly was causing a lot of inconvenience,
but, for all that, ships were managing to get crews on the old and inadequate wages
formerly paid.
Havelock
Wilson, at that time, was regarded as a firebrand and was most cordially
detested by shipowners. He was the direct consequence of the Shipping
Federation coming into being. As years have gone by, and he has gained
experience, he has gradually proved himself to be a sensible leader of a trade
union which was most urgently required, as no other body of men in this world
ever required the protection of a union more than sailors. He must be getting
an old man now, as to my knowledge he has been secretary of the National Union
of Firemen and Sailors for the last .thirty years, and has effectively lived
down the contempt and hatred with which he was regarded by shipowners. All
honour be to him for having improved the sailor's lot!
On my
way to the shipping office to see what steps I should have to take to get a
crew, I found two or three hundred sailors and firemen lined up on the curb,
with Havelock Wilson walking up and down the line in full command. I went up to
him and asked him what wages he was demanding, as I wanted a crew. If I
remember rightly, he said £4 for sailors and £4 10s for firemen, to which I
replied that I could not pay that amount. He told me that if I would do so I
could have the pick of the two or three hundred men in front of me, who, poor
devils! were looking at me much as the lost dogs do in Battersea Dogs' Home
when seeking a master in the individual who calls there. I thanked him, but
said that I would get a good crew at the old wages. He assured me that I would
not; however, I did, even though it was composed of very mixed nationalities.
I had
engaged two decent men as chief and second officers, and with the permission of
the owners I engaged a third officer in place of the boatswain. I told the
first and second officers that I was signing on a third officer in order that
they should have the advantage of three watches instead of two, but they would
have to arrange between themselves that from 8 a.m. to 6 p.m. there was always
an officer on deck in addition to the one on the bridge, so that the one on
deck could act as boatswain. The officers were delighted with this arrangement,
and we eventually sailed with a cargo of coal for Buenos Ayres.
We had a
good crew, but my chief officer was no disciplinarian, and was constantly in
hot water with me for yarning with the sailors and firemen whenever he had an
opportunity. The only real trouble I had was with the donkeyman, who was a
Highlander, standing six feet four inches, broad in proportion, and as rough as
they make them. He was cock of the forecastle, and, as a matter of fact, the
engineers were scared of him as well, but, like all these big men, when the
time came to test him he was found to be simply a man of putty. I happened to
be the one to find it out. One morning in Buenos Ayres I was dressing, and
happening to look out of my port at about 8 o'clock I saw the donkeyman leaving
a pub just on the other side of the wharf, and making his way on board the
ship, the chief engineer standing by the gangway the while and taking no
notice. I sent along for the chief engineer and asked him what he meant by
allowing the donkeyman to be ashore, to which he replied "How could I stop
a man like that?" I did not say anything but told him to fetch the
donkeyman along and bring him into the fore cabin. He came in with his hat on,
which, of course, was asking for trouble, and he got it, for I told him to take
off his ruddy cap or else I would knock it off for him. To my surprise he
immediately took it off and stood at attention while I got the official
log-book out, and, after writing down that in consequence of his being ashore
without leave I fined him a fortnight's pay, I asked him whether he had
anything to say. He was chewing tobacco at the time, and, I think without meaning
anything, before ha answered, he deliberately spat on the mat at the cabin
door. I immediately saw red, and without thinking what I was doing, sprang up
at him, got him by the throat, and Heaven only knows what I was going to do,
when, to my amazement, and, I may say, relief, the man behaved like an arrant
cur. He was about the strongest man ever seen aboard a ship, but he whimpered
like a child, and said that he had meant no offence. He could quite easily have
corpsed me if he had not been such a skunk; however, when he went forward, he
must have told the men some fancy tale, because although he still remained cock
of the walk forward, it was brought to my notice that my undeserved reputation
as a bucko had been greatly increased by my encounter with the donkeyman.
After
loading a complete cargo of grain an army of men came aboard to fit us up for
carrying live cattle on deck. The bullocks, of which there were 190, were
carried on deck and in stalls, and on top of the stalls was another deck laid,
on which were 970 sheep. We shipped twenty-two men and a fireman to feed and
attend to the cattle; they were the scourings of the world, who had drifted out
or been stranded in Buenos Ayres, and were only too anxious to get away from
the place.
We
sailed, and all went well during the voyage, as we had fine weather the whole
way. The worst thing was the stench of the cattle, which was simply unbearable,
especially in the cabin when there was a head wind. I had a little trouble with
the crew and with the cattle-men. The whole crowd came aft one day to interview
me. I saw them coming, so met them at the break of the poop and asked them what
they wanted. They said that they were tired of eating mutton, and wanted a
change of food. I kept up a brave front, and said that if mutton was not ruddy
well good enough for them it was good enough for me, and if they didn't like it
they could go without, for they would not get anything else. I ordered them
forward, and told them not to come to me with such ruddy foolish complaints. To
my surprise, they all turned away without a word, and I had no further trouble.
We went
alongside the Deptford Cattle Market Wharf to discharge the cattle, which was
done by making them walk down the gangways. I was congratulated on the
condition in which the cattle were delivered, and also as regards the small
number that we had lost, amounting to only three bullocks and six or seven
sheep, which was a bit of a record, but was only due to the exceedingly fine
passage we had made.
After
discharging the cattle we had to proceed to Antwerp to unload the cargo of
grain. On the way down Blackwall Reach, with the pilot in charge, we collided
bow on with the S.S. ALMA proceeding up river from Buenos Ayres with cattle.
Both ships were going about eight knots an hour, so the crash was terrific, and
both ships' bows were crumpled in above the water-line like paper. The pilot
advised me, as the ship was not making water, to proceed to Tilbury Dock, after
sending off a telegram to the owners that I was doing so, which I did. On our
arrival, Mr. John Temperley, the chief owner, came aboard, and, to my relief,
all he said to me was "Well, it's a damn bad ending to a most successful
voyage, Captain Millett". Of course I was really not to blame, as the pilot
was in charge, but it was not every owner who would be so sympathetic towards
his captain. We had to discharge the whole of the cargo and go into dry-dock;
of course everybody was paid off, and only a caretaker left aboard the ship.
I had
had a very good fortnight's holiday when I got a telegram saying that the
repairs were finished and the cargo reloaded, and I was to resume command. I
took the ship over to Antwerp and discharged her cargo there, and received
orders to proceed to Cardiff to load coal for Genoa. We made the trip to Genoa
and then proceeded to Novorissik in the Black Sea to load grain for Bremen
Haven. Novorissik, I was informed, was laid out by a sailor, and I must admit
that he had done it in a shipshape manner. The roads were about a hundred feet
wide, and the town, which was planned out in squares, American fashion, was
beautifully kept, but very uninteresting from the visitor's point of view.
The
trimming of the grain in the hold was all done by Russian women, and woe betide
any member of the crew who attempted any familiarity with them, for they all
rounded on the poor fellow who did so! After their day's work was over they
were begrimed with grain dust, and used to walk to the beach about two or three
hundred yards away, undress, and bathe in a state of nature. Needless to say,
telescopes and binoculars were at a premium on those occasions.
We had a
fine run to Bremen Haven, which was nothing but a small village just below
Bremen. We caused quite a scare there with a monkey that we had aboard the
ship. It got loose and frightened several women out of their lives by climbing
up and peering through their bedroom windows! What became of it we were unable
to find out, but we never saw it again.
After
discharging I took the ship on to Cardiff, where I handed her back to her
former commander, and was informed by my owners that on the arrival of the S.S.
PEMBRIDGE I was to take command of her. I had three weeks on shore, and then
received instructions to go over to Antwerp to take command. She had just
finished discharging at that port, and was to load railway iron for Port
Elizabeth in South Africa. We had a fine but uninteresting run out there, and
as I steamed into the harbour I thought of the time, twenty-five years
previously, when I had entered it in a sailing ship on my first voyage to sea.
I found the town much grown, and whereas twenty-five years before there had
only been an occasional mail steamer, but a whole fleet of fine sailing ships,
there was now a whole fleet of steamers and only one or two sailing ships.
I
remembered that in a sailing ship it was the custom to buoy the anchor, so I
followed out this practice, and had a buoy attached to mine when I let go in
five fathoms of water. Lucky for me that I did so! A few days after, when I was
on shore at a theatre one evening, a messenger came in to say that the S.S.
PEMBRIDGE had been in collision and was drifting. I hurriedly left the theatre
and went off in a tugboat. I found that a steamer had drifted down on top of the
chain and parted it, causing my ship to drift before the second anchor was let
go to bring her up, by which time her sternpost only had two feet of water
under it, I ordered steam to be got up, and at daybreak I steamed up to the
point where, by the position of the buoy on the anchor, I reckoned the end of
the chain would be lying. I then dropped my anchor, and sending the chief
officer away in the gig with a boat's grapnel attached to a heaving-line, he
trailed it across the spot in which the chain was supposed to be lying, with
the very happy result that he hooked it the first time. We then lowered down a
small kedge attached to a wire, and when we hove it up we discovered that we
had been fortunate enough to hook the chain only about a couple of fathoms from
the end, which made it a very simple matter for us to heave it aboard and
shackle on the other part of the chain. Instead, therefore, of having to pay
the usual tariff rate of about forty pounds for recovering the chain and anchor
we got it done free of expense.
We
discharged our cargo without incident, and I received orders to proceed in
ballast to Pensacola. Again we had a fine trip and put in to St. Thomas in the
West Indies for bunkers. All the coal is carried aboard in baskets on the heads
of negresses, who walk up one plank, dump the coal, and turn round and walk
down another plank. There are so many at work that there is one endless stream
of coal being shot into the bunkers, so the work does not take long.
We
sailed, and after setting the course I turned in. At one o'clock in the morning
I was awakened by the second officer with the news that a Dutch sailor, who had
given a certain amount of trouble during the voyage, was asleep on the
look-out, and he could do nothing with him.
I turned
out, not feeling in the best of tempers, and in my pyjamas walked along to the
forecastle head. There I found the look-out man sitting on one of the bitts,
clad only in a pair of trousers, and fast asleep. There was a brilliant full
moon and everything was as light as day. I brought the flat of my hand down as
hard as I could on the man's back, and the force of the blow sounded on his
bare skin like a pistol shot. Apparently he was in a drunken stupor, but it
effectually roused him. He started up and made one dive for me, not knowing at
that moment who I was, though, of course, he recognized me immediately we came
to grips. He went mad, and as he was a very strong man it took me all my time
to prevent him succeeding in his purpose, which was to throw me over the rail
of the ship. The second mate came running along to lend me a hand, but,
foolishly feeling that I was a match for the man, I ordered him back to the
bridge and went on struggling; and instead of his putting me over the ship's
side I managed to toss him over the rail on to the fore deck, where he lay
stunned. By that time I was about played out myself, so I staggered along to
the bridge and told the second mate to go aft and tell the chief officer to
come along and help me to put the man in irons. The chief officer turned out,
and, taking a lignum vitae fid with him, he and the second mate went forward
and found the man still lying unconscious where I had thrown him. They got a
bucket of water and doused it over him, and on his recovering consciousness and
seeing the handcuffs all ready to be put on, he showed fight once more,
whereupon the chief officer fetched him a swipe on the head with the fid, and
he lapsed into unconsciousness once more. They then put the handcuffs on him,
doused him with water again, and when he recovered brought him along to the
upper bridge. I chained him to one of the stanchions, whereupon he threatened,
when he should get loose, to murder the lot of us.
The next
morning I consulted with the officers, and we decided that he was too dangerous
to be loose, so we escorted him along to the after 'tween decks and
leg-shackled him to a stanchion. Every day after that I used to allow him on
deck for an hour, while I walked up and down the other side of the deck, with a
loaded revolver handy in my pocket. On arrival at Pensacola we hoisted the
signal that
we
wanted the police boat, and the police came aboard and took him on shore.
Shortly afterwards the consul held a court martial and he was sentenced to be
dismissed from the ship and to be put in jail for a month. Strangely enough,
the ship had to pay for his keep there at the rate of one dollar a day, but, of
course, I recovered it by deducting the amount from the man's wages.
Just
before we left Pensacola the man was released, and the police, in order to
avoid any possible trouble by the man seeking me out, had him shipped on board
a "blue-nose" sailing ship, and a very tough one at that. The
Dutchman evidently found it so, for two nights afterwards he took a plank and
paddled himself three-quarters of a mile to the shore, but before leaving the
ship, having thrown overboard the windlass levers. The next morning, when he
was discovered to be missing and the windlass levers also, the captain and
chief officer of the Nova Scotia barque absolutely prayed that he should be
delivered into their hands once more, so that they could get a bit of their own
back; but whether they succeeded in getting him or not I do not know, as we
sailed that same day.
In
Pensacola we loaded a full cargo of pitch-pine logs, which were floated off to
the ship in rafts, each consisting of about a hundred pieces. When we were
nearly loaded, the chief officer awakened me at 6 o'clock one morning to say
that he did not like the look of the weather, and that the glass was going down
terribly. I turned out and saw at once that we were in for a hurricane, so
immediately gave orders for steam to be raised as soon as possible. It was
fortunate that I did so, as it soon came on to blow with hurricane force, and I
had to steam half speed ahead on my engines to keep the ship from drifting. We
rode the hurricane out, but I saw at the worst part of the gale no less than
five steamers and three or four full-rigged sailing ships dragging their
anchors. One sailing ship drifted down on the top of another one, and their
rigging got entangled. It was an interesting sight to see the masts tumbling
down, but I am glad to say that no mishaps were reported. Any ship that had
drifted so as to touch the ground suffered no damage, as it was only a very
soft, muddy bottom.
The
hurricane commenced about 8 o'clock in the morning, was at its worst about 12
o'clock, and was all over by 3 o'clock, but not a raft of timber remained
alongside any ship, the shore for miles being strewn with the pieces thereof.
Several bloody encounters occurred in salving the timber, as the men who were
doing it quarrelled as to who should claim the best pieces. They were armed
with long, very sharp-pointed boat-hooks for salving the timber, which they
used on each other when they lost their tempers, with the result that several
men were either killed or badly injured. Pensacola at that time was a poor
specimen of a place, and was really more of a big village than a town, but I
suppose by this time it is grown out of all recognition.
We
finished loading and managed to get across the Bar safely. We then proceeded up
the coast of America to Sydney, Cape Breton, to coal. On leaving there I made
for Cape Race to take my departure, and just saw the lighthouse before the fog
which is prevalent in those regions closed down, and for six nights and five
days I never got another observation, as I carried the fog the whole way; but
with my usual good luck picked up Bishop's Rock Lighthouse quite safely. I went
to Hull to discharge, and when finished took the ship round to Cardiff, where I
left her. I had received permission to take a voyage off, owing to my wishing
to get married to a girl to whom I had been engaged for the last two years.
Raymond
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