My Life at Sea being a "yarn" loosely spun for the purpose of holding together certain reminiscences of the transition period from sail to steam in the British mercantile marine (1863-1894)

“Ride with an idle whip, ride with an unused heel, But, once in a way, there will come a day When the colt must be taught to feel The lash that falls, and the curb that galls, And the sting of the rowelled heel.”--KIPLING.

Early in the year 1863 there was brought into the little harbour of Margate a vessel called the Figaro of Narbonne, a small craft with a cargo of wine. She had got into trouble on one of the many outlying sandbanks which make the entrance to the Thames a problem of considerable difficulty for any vessel not thoroughly qualified to meet any emergency that may arise through wind or weather. What the precise cause of this accident was escapes my memory, but whatever its origin, it was instrumental in sending me to sea, for it brought me into close contact with a London merchant, Mr. Trapp, who was interested in her cargo and who had come down to supervise her repairs. This merchant was also a shipowner, and had been at sea during the French wars in the early part of the century. He was good enough to tell me many stories relating to privateering and the customs of the sea, to all of which I listened greedily, for I was born with the sound of the sea in my ears and from my earliest recollections had made up my mind that the sailor’s life was the only one worth living. Unfortunately this view was not shared either by my father or my mother, both of whom had set their minds upon making me a civil engineer. My head master was of the same opinion as myself as regards my future, but we reached the same conclusion by somewhat different roads, as will be seen.

I scarcely think I was tractable as a school-boy. I can distinctly remember that from the age of ten until I was fourteen I was always the “awful example,” and my impression is that the cane was administered thrice daily with great regularity. At the age of fourteen there was a serious difference of opinion between the head master and myself; he suggested that my conduct in class was beyond his endurance, and I, considering his was also objectionable, expressed my view by launching a book at his head. When I turned to make my escape, there was no escape for me; I was headed off and cornered by masters lower down the room. And face downwards on a desk I both heard and felt the best arguments that can be used in such circumstances. When I got home, these arguments were only too palpable, and my indulgent parents brought my career at that school to a summary conclusion. Nevertheless, I bore the old boy no malice, for he was a good judge of a human boy’s nature. When he asked me one day what I was going to be, I replied, “Civil engineer,” to which he retorted, “A soldier or a sailor is all they will ever make of you,” and it must be confessed that it was a fairly accurate forecast, though the prophecy was evidently not intended as a compliment to either army or navy.

After that episode it seemed to dawn upon my mind that it was time to learn something, and I was put as a private pupil with a man whose memory I shall always respect (afterwards Leetham of Thanet House), for he had the great gift of raising his pupil’s enthusiasm for the subject he was teaching. We used to start quite early in the morning, before breakfast, take our time in the middle of the day for recreation, and again tackle the work in the evening. It was in one of the mid-day recreations that, happening to walk down the lower pier, I met my old friend the shipowner. I soon made up my mind that I must go to sea, and realised that here was the instrument by which my desire could be accomplished. A steady siege was at once commenced.

My dear old father would not listen to the scheme for a moment; salt water had no charms for him. Yet he himself had taught me the use of mathematical instruments and given me a fair grounding in plan drawing and similar matters. The shrine at which he worshipped, however, was that of Brunel and the great engineers who were then discovering the wonders of applied science. My mother, on the other hand, seeing that my mind was made up, offered no further opposition, and when the time arrived managed to give me the necessary assistance.

The scheme finally formulated was this. My friend Mr. Trapp had at that time a vessel in port of which he was part owner, and as she carried apprentices I was to take my place among them on her next voyage, but it was also stipulated that a premium was to be paid. How often, I wonder, have boys been jeered at by the old salts as being “blank gentlemen’s sons that pay to go to sea,” and when one considers in after life the hardships of a sailing-ship, such a custom certainly seems humorous.

Well, the appointed day arrived and my mother and I set out for London to carry out the necessary preliminaries. My father had provided funds in a surreptitious sort of manner, for when the die was cast he accepted the situation, though he never really acquiesced in it. Boys are heartless brutes as a rule where their inclinations are concerned, and set little store by the desires of those who have had the trouble of rearing them. But, after all, we none of us are asked whether we would like to come into the world. We are shoved upon the stage willy-nilly without any consideration as to the part we are to play, and expected to give unquestioning obedience to the prompter. This seemed to me unreasonable, and that is how I at length found myself in the London Docks boarding the Alwynton, a sailing barque of 491 tons register. To the best of my knowledge she was one of a series of outside vessels chartered by the Orient line, and a stout, staunch craft she was, good looking also in her own way.

On the other side of the wharf was the sailing-ship Orient, the first of her name and a clipper of renown. The officers and men of that craft considered themselves very superior beings to those who had not the good fortune to sail under the blue St. Andrew’s Cross; but they in their turn were looked down upon by the men sailing in the ships of Green, Dunbar, Wigram & Smith. In those days it would have required a very careful M.C. to give the varying grades of the merchant services their due order of precedence.

We were met by a very dark, handsome man who we were told was one of the owners of the vessel, and one of the first remarks he made to me after the ceremony of introduction had been gone through was on the iniquity of my wearing kid gloves. Needless to say, I immediately disclaimed any intention of doing so in the future, being fearful that so pernicious a habit should already have prejudiced my chances of forming one unit of the ship’s company of so particularly correct a craft. Let me here say that the last time I met that gentleman he was bowed in stature and quite white on the figurehead; it was at the Trinity House, and this time we foregathered on equal terms. I reminded him of the particular incident and he was much amused. I regret that he has now joined the majority, leaving behind him a name that will be long remembered for good and philanthropic work wherever seamen are concerned. I refer to Captain David Mainland.

My first doubts were raised when I met the second mate, who seemed to be what I should now describe as a particularly “hefty” personage. He was not wearing any elaborate uniform, in fact he wore neither coat nor waistcoat, and was very busily engaged in assisting to take in stores and stow them away down a hatchway in the after part of the cabin, a receptacle known as the lazarette. For many months afterwards that place to me was one of discomfort, for it was also the sailroom, and to one not accustomed to the smell of “below decks” the work of stowing and re-arranging canvas was not agreeable. It was, however, particularly the sort of operation to which a raw and unskilled hand could be usefully turned, and accordingly there fell to my lot a good deal of it.

Immediately behind this hatchway were two staterooms, so called, fine airy cabins, one of which was the abode of Captain Hole, whose acquaintance it was now my lot to make. Let me try and describe him. He was a man of more than average height and enormous chest measurement; his face was not so weather-beaten as might have been expected, but it was one mass of freckles, and was surmounted by sandy hair and fringed with whiskers of the same colour. His hands were mighty and possessed enormous power, as I was to discover later. There was withal a bluff bonhomie about the man that was attractive in its way, and to do him justice I think he tried to behave as well as he could, but he was the natural product of a hard school.

On this particular occasion he wished to be very agreeable, and the interview went off well, ending with the transfer of my premium from my mother’s pocket to his. In this he stole a march upon my first friend, the owner, who had intended me to be his apprentice, in place of which I was forthwith indentured to Captain Hole.

The remainder of the day was all pure joy. I was a sailor and was measured for my sailor clothes! Some days afterwards I went back home to display to my lay acquaintances and the world of Margate in general, the full glory of blue cloth and brass buttons. Upon mature consideration I am not certain that the first wearing of a brass-bound cap is not the most satisfactory experience in a long sea life; the first command is not in any way to be compared with it.

At length the long-looked-for day arrived when I was to join my ship, and I set out without a doubt in my mind, and with a callous indifference to the tearful farewells of my family, or rather the feminine portion of it. I have since noticed that this indifference is not unusual with the human boy, and perhaps it is well that it should be so, for he is like the young bear and has no idea of the troubles that lie before him. Still, were my time to be gone through again, even starting with the accumulated wisdom of half-a-century’s experience, I doubt greatly whether I should act very differently.

I was not, however, fated to join my ship that day. I was taken by my old friend, Mr. Trapp, to his house in the Minories and handed over to the care of one of his sons. He took me to my first theatre, and next morning at breakfast was solemnly reproved by his father for causing me to break that clause in my indenture which forbade the apprentices to frequent taverns or playhouses.

But the time had now come when the realities were to commence. We were five apprentices in all, and, with the carpenter and boatswain, lived in the starboard side of the topgallant forecastle. As the ship’s windlass formed part of the furniture it may be imagined that the quarters were rough in the extreme, but they were in keeping with the life in general, which began to develop as soon as we reached the dockhead, prior to being towed down the river. Here we began to make acquaintance with that very authoritative person, the chief mate, who in all well-ordered ships is the ruling spirit. Mr. Coleman was a good specimen of the mate of his time. Not bad-looking by any means, very neat in personal appearance, and painfully precise in his remarks to all and sundry. There was also conveyed in some particularly subtle manner the fact that he was an accomplished pugilist, and in point of fact, there were not many that could emphasise their orders with greater neatness and dispatch. I can recall many instances where the trouble was over almost as soon as it began, and that was no small qualification for an officer in the rough sailing-ship days. This quality of command was quickly manifested on the way to Gravesend, when the work of rigging out the jib-boom and getting things shipshape commenced in earnest. Before the first day was finished we had discovered that the lot of an apprentice was likely to prove an extremely lively one.