The merchant vessel: a sailor-boy's voyages to see the world

Front matter

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Preface To New Edition

L ast year Messrs. Dodd, Mead & Co. amazed, and I must say alarmed, me by insisting on republishing, in a very pretty form, an old book of mine, written in 1854, and published in 1855 — “Man-of-War Life: A Boy’s Experiences in the United States Navy.” This year they wish to add to that volume a second, in which, about the same time, and when I was still fresh from the sea, I recounted my own life in various merchant ships under several flags.

As I glance over the pages of the book, which I have not looked at in many years, I see that it has at least one point of interest — it recounts adventures and a mode of life scarcely to be found now anywhere. There are, to be sure, still sailing ships; and no doubt tbe work and discipline in these ships are much the same that they were when I sailed, thirty-five years ago. But the main business of the sea is now done by steamships. Some out-of-the-way corners of the world, which it was my good fortune and my delight to visit, are now “ settled and civilized;” and while there are still many tolerably remote spots, the stove-pipe hat is now found everywhere, and the area of romance and adventure is greatly limited. I will not say that the world has become commonplace, for that is not true. But .,

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I do think some of the bloom has been rubbed off the peach.

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PREFACE TO NEW EDITION.

This l)oc)k contains not only the record of my own experiences in the merchant service, but also here and there a forecastle yarn spun by an old shipmate. I dare say they are all true; for, as a saying of the sea goes, that's what they said ; and you wouldn't suppose a lot of sailor men would lie about such a matter as that T

When I was a boy at sea the Spanish pillar dollar was still the coin of most universal currency, and the Spanish language was that most certain to be understood in the remotest spots. The American flag was to be found literally on every sea, and the American ship was the tautest, the best fitted, the best sailer, and made the most successful voyages. The American shipmaster was by far the most intelligent of his class, as he probably still is ; but he had also the air, as he had the habit, of success ; and he delighted in nothing so much as in a “ trading voyage," in which he was not only master, but supercargo, and with a “roving commission" went out to Africa, or the Indian Ocean, or the “ West Coast," to barter American goods and Yankee notions for the produce of the country. Such a captain had not only seamanship, but brains and a commercial education. He, and his crew also, looked down upon the “lime-juicers,'’ as they called English ships and sailors, as rather a stupid and semi-brutal lot. They laughed at the “ parleyvoos," or Frenchmen, as better shoemakers than sailors. They despised the “ Dagoes,'’ or Spaniards, as fellows who always lost in the race.

In those days we Yankees counted ourselwes the best men that sailed the seas.

PREFACE TO NEW EDITION.

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Well, all that has changed. The pillar dollar and the Spanish as the universal language went out long ago. But it is not so long since we abandoned the sea. Perhaps some day we shall take possession again. I should be glad to see the day.

The book is here reprinted without change. I dare say I could write a better book now, but it would not be the same — it would not have the merit this one has, of being a true picture of the life here described. The publishers have, with great liberality, undertaken to add many illustrations, which I hope will lend interest to the text.

Chapter I. Page

Jack Ashore — Victimized by the Land-Sharks — Off for Boston — A Pleasure Trip — Boston — Sailors’ Home — Ships and Shipping CJ ffices^ •• •«•••• ••»•!

Chapter II

Sail for New Orleans — Going to Sea with a Drunken Crew — A Merchantman’s Forecastle — Man the Windlass” — Choosing Watches — Some Points of Difference between the Merchant Service and the Navy, with a Short Digression into the Philosophy of Sailorcraft, lo

CHAPTER III’

Watch-and-Watch — Reefing Topsails — Catching a Sucker — The Berry’s Keys, and the Deputy U. S. Consul Thereof — Turtle Eggs — Mobile Bay — Our Crew Leave, . . . . . . . . -19

Chapter XII

The Merchant Seaman’s Sunday — Growling George and I become Chums — Catching Fish — Porpoise Meat — A Storm off the Cape — The Sand- Heads — The Hoogly — George and I determine to leave the Ship — The Pilots — Calcutta, ..........

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CONTENTS.

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Chapter XIII. Page

Leave the Akbar — An English Vessel — Sail for Madras — Some of the Peculiarities of British Ships — Arrive at Madras — The Port — Manner of Taking in Cargo — How I Got into the Sailmaker's Gang— The Surf- Boats — A Storm and its Consequences, . . . . . .181

Chapter XVII

Leave Lombok — The Monkey — The Parrot — A Long Calm — George ^ Grumbles — Cattle-tending in New South Wales — Whampoa — Discharge Cargo — Paid off — Visit Canton, . . . . . . 253

Chapter XVIII

Ship in a Country-Wallah — Sail for Port Louis — Leave-taking — The Lascar Crew — Manner of Treating Them — Long Calm — Superstitions of the Lascars — -Their Desire to Revolt — Arriv^al at Port Louis, . -277

CONTENTS.

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Chapter XIX. Page

Difficulty of Getting a Ship — Go on Board an American Vessel — Off for Rio — A Yarn from a Company Sailor — Rio de Janeiro Harbor — For Boston — Cold \Yeather, ........ . 296

Chapter XX

Hard Times for Sailors — Anxiety to Escape the Winter — Boston to Ban= gor — Sail for Demarara — A Down-East Bark — Her Captain and Mate — A Family Arrangement — Arrival at Demarara — Discharge Cargo — Sail for Buen Ayre, ......... 313

Chapter XXI

The Dragon’s Mouth — Buen Ayre — Taking in Salt — The Salt Pans — Beauty of the Island and the Climate — Misery of the Laborers — Off for New Orleans — Captain Attempts to Starve the Crew — Tedious Passage — Arrival at New Orleans — A Sailor s Lawsuit — Sail for New York — Conclusion, 337

Chapter I

Jack ashore — Victimized by the land sharks — Off for Boston — A pleasure trip — Boston — Sailors Home — Ships and shipping offices,

T he tailors, boarding-house keepers, and itinerant venders of jewelry, in port, have a busy time during the week in which a man-of-war’s crew is discharged and paid off. Jack cannot see to the end of a hundred dollars, and therefore pays royally for everything he wants, and very many things he don’t want, never stooping so low as to bargain with a tradesman — and getting cheated on all hands, of course, by the land sharks. Pinchbeck watches, and plated jewelry, and ill-fitting shore chothes, soon transform the neat, trim man-of-war’s-man, looking as though he had just stepped out of a bandbox, into an awkward, ungainly fellow as one would be likelv to meet with in a day’s walk.

But never mind ; the clothes may not fit, but they cost the money — the watch may be gilt, but its price was a golden one — and “ what’s the odds, so long as you’re happy,” said a jolly topmate, as he introduced himself to my notice, in a suit of clothes big enough for the largest man in all Ohio, a “ long-faced hat,” a watch in each vest-pocket, rings on every finger, inchidmg the thumbs, and a breastpin almost large enough for a din-

THE MERCHANT VESSEL.

ner-plate. “You know,” said he, with the air of one having some experience in such matters, “ one must be in the fashion. Now nobody would take me for an old salt ; they won’t say, ‘ Go away, sailor, you smell of tar.

I thought perhaps they wouldn’t, but respectfully declined investing in a similar manner, to Jack’s evident disgust. Not all, however, of our crew sported their two watches, or dressed in style. I am sorry to say that not a few commenced a spree on the first day ashore, from which they only waked up to find themselves outward bound, and the landlord prepared to ship them, and pocket no inconsiderable share of their advance money. There were yet others, and these were principally the old mer' chant sailors, who were off, as soon as they received their pay, to one of the northern seaports, with the intention of shipping for some foreign port, Liverpool, London, Havre, or “up the straits,” as the Mediterranean is called, where, being old cruising grounds to them, they thought to have their spree out to greater advantage than in the United States.

I fear but few of the many who had talked so loudly of going home had the strength of purpose to carry their resolution into effect. Many were doubtless persuaded off by their shipmates, and went “ one more voyage” — which is like the toper’s “one more glass,” something that upsets all plans for reform. Others intended only to take a little preliminary spree, but spent too large a proportion of their savings in that, and then abandoned all idea of seeing home till after another good voyage.

As for myself, it had been determined that the company

WE CHARTER A SCHOONER.

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which I had joined should go to Boston, from whence I intended to make my first trip in a merchant vessel. Our party consisted of five : two seamen, old sea-dogs, one of them a captain

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of the mizzentop, two ordinary seamen, and myself, a boy. The three last mentioned were steady temperance lads, but the old tars were confirmed topers, who were conscious that they could not resist the temptation to spreeing, and had made us youngsters promise, while yet on board ship, that we would see to them.

Fearing the utter impossibility of keeping straight all the way from Norfolk to Boston, the luminous idea struck Harry Hill, the captain of the top, to charter the cabin of a little coasting schooner, about to proceed to Boston.

“And then,” said he, “if old Tommy Martin and I get on our beam-ends, you boys can put us into our berths, and there will be no bloody land sharks to pick our pockets.”

This proposition was accordingly carried into effect. We paid fifty dollars for the use of the cabin, the captain to “ eat us,” he agreeing, also, to start away the same day we were paid off, which clause of the contract I insisted on, fearing, were we detained any time in Norfolk, that my topmates would get on an ■ interminable spree. I had determined on carrying them soberly to the Sailors’ Home, in Boston, and there, placing them under good influences, try to make them lay aside a portion of their earnings.

Accordingly, we paid our board bill — three days, at the rate of two- dollars and a‘ half per day, for sleeping in a garret, furnishing our own bedding, and eating an occasional meal in the house — but homeward-bound sailors don’t dispute bills — and took ourselv^es and baggage down . to the schooner. On gettingon board, I found in the cabin lockers sundry jugs, labelled “ brandy,” “ rum,” and “ wine,” which our two old tars had smuggled off on the day before, unknown to the sober portion of the party. The wine, Harry Hill said he had gotten expressly for us, as such a glorious time as we might now have should not be entirely thrown away. Procuring some oysters, on our way down the bay, we were soon outside, making good headway toward Boston.

Our two old topmates saw but little of the daylight while the liquor lasted, but as a good deal of it leaked out, they had abundant time to get sober before we arrived in port. For myself, being my first trip on so small a vessel, I enjoyed myself very much. By the time we reached Boston I had learned to steer, which necessary accomplishment no one has a chance of acquiring on board a man-of-war, where only the most ex-^ perienced of the seamen are permitted to take the wheel.

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Arrived at the wharf in Boston, we took a coach (Harry Hill insisting upon going on deck with the driver, having had a surfeit of the cabin coming from Norfolk), and drov^e up to the Sailors’ Home, in Purchase Street, in a style calculated to let folks know that we were homeward-bounders. Sailors’ homes,, almost everybody knows, have been established in nearly every large seaport in the Union, for the purpose of providing seamen, while on shore, with boarding-houses conducted on honest principles, and mostly by religious people, and where they will be removed as far as may be from the temptations of the

A SAILOH'S HOME.

land. That in Purchase Street, Boston, always enjoyed a high reputation, being a very large and commodiously arranged building, where everything was quiet and scrupulously neat, and where no efforts were spared by the kind-hearted “landlord,” Mr. Chaney, and his excellent lady, to make the tars comfortable, and to aid them in their efforts at keeping on the right track.

Entering our names, and the name of our last ship, on the register, we were shown to nice airy rooms, where matters looked more like comfort than anything I had seen for the last three years. The regulations of the house were suspended • in each room, and from these I gathered, among other matters, that there was in the building a reading-room and a smoking-room, for the use of all the boarders, that prayers were held in the former apartment every morning, before breakfast, which all in the house were invited to attend, and that on Sabbath divine service was held in a chapel opposite the Home.

That night I enjoyed a glorious rest. For three long

years a narrow hammock, hung on a crowded deck, had been my only sleeping-place — aside from a still harder deck plank — and to find myself once more in a good bed, with nice clean sheets and pillows, and surrounded by all the comforts of home — comforts, by the way, which we don’t know how to value till we are obliged to do without them — was a most unmistakable pleasure. I had taken Harry Hill as my room-mate.

“Now, my boy,” said he, as he “turned in,’’ “there will be no calling of all hands to-morrow, no turning out in the

THE MERCHANT VESSEL.

cold to scrub decks, no getting down on your marrovv-bones„ with holy-stones and sand. So you can take just as much comfort as you please. I’m only afraid I’ll sleep so sound

I shan’t enjoy it at all — so if you wake up along in the

mid-watch, give me a call, that I may freshen my reekoning.”

But there was no mid-wateh in my dreams that night.

The loud ringing of a bell called us down to prayers, in

the morning. I found a very good attendance in the reading-

room. It was the first time I had attended family worship

since leaving home, and strange feelings crept over me as I listened to the Word being read and the prayer offered. And as the gray-haired minister who conducted the worship

asked God’s blessing on those there assembled, and on their friends, wherever they might be, my heart was full, at the thought of the loved ones at home, perhaps then, also, offering up their morning service to the Lord.

But could I go home.? What had I to tell, what had

I to show, after my long absence? No! I was determined to see a little more of the world before I showed my

face there.

After breakfast our party sallied out to take a look about the wharves, and pick out a ship, as none of us intended to

stay ashore above a week or two. The spring-time is alwaysa busy season with shipping, and we found at the wharves ships, barks, brigs, and schooners, loading for many different

parts of the world. After rambling around the wharves awhile,,

we entered a shipping office. It is to these places that the

owners and masters of vessels, when in want of a crew, take

THE SHIPPING OFFICE.

their “ articles,” the obligations which each one on board must sign, before sailing, and which contain an abstract of the general laws of the merchant-marine, and whatever particular specifications are deemed necessary for the voyage the ship is to perform. These articles are spread out on desks, about the office, that seamen may examine them and pick themselves out a voyage.

Ships were plenty at this time, and we entered an office where two East Indiamen, a China ship, a Baltic ship, and a vessel going round Cape Horn had their articles exposed — besides several small craft going to different parts of the West Indies, and a bark bound to a southern port, and thence to “ some port or ports in Europe, at the discretion of the captain.”

“ Here you are, now,” said one of my old friends ; “ you want to see somewhat of the world; here you have your pick, and can take a trip almost anywhere you want to.”

As we stood there, two tars came in. They had evidently been down to look at some of the vessels.

“Well, Jack,” said one, “which shall it be, Russia or China

“ What do you say to Bombay, Tom T asked the other.

“Well, I’m agreed.”

And they signed the articles of a vessel bound to “ Bombay, and such other ports in the East Indies or China as the captain may determine, the voyage not to exceed two years.”

It seemed strange to me to see men disposing so care-

THE MERCHANT VESSEL.

lessly of their future for the next year or two ; choosing at hap-hazard between the frosts of the Baltic Sea and burn-

ing sun of the Indies ; the hardships of a Russian voyage and the sickness incident to a trip to China. But I soon found

this was a mere matter of habit, and before I was much older, learned, myself, to start to the uttermost ends of the earth at five minutes’ notice, and perhaps merely to oblige an old shipmate, or even from a less reasonable caprice.

I desired much to go to the East Indies, but thought best to make a short European voyage first, in order to be inducted regularly into the life, and ways, and duties of a merchant vessel, before going on a long trip in a fancy

Indiaman. So I one day shipped myself in a bark going to New Orleans, thence to Liverpool or Havre. The rest of our party of five all sailed before me. Two went to Russia, one to Buenos Ayres, and the other to Cura^oa, in the West Indies. When they were all gone I felt really lonesome ; but as the

day drew near on which I too was to leave, to embark in a line of duty entirely new to me, and in which I knew not what success I should have, I must confess my heart sank within me.

However, the hour came at last. The shipping agent

sends word to the places of residence of the various members of the crew, of the precise day and hour of sailing, which is generally determined on some days beforehand. The crew of a merchant vessel do not go on board until just as the ship is about to cast off from the wharf And on returning home, they barely make fast the ship, and then leave her. As crews are picked up at hap-hazard, the different individuals are, in

SHIPPED.

general, strangers to each other, and it is some days before all hands become acquainted and sociable. If now, in addition to being strangers, one half of them are drunk on their arrival in the forecastle, and consequently unfit for duty, and ready for a quarrel with the officers (and this was precisely the case on this occasion), it need not to be said that going out to sea, under such circumstances, is not the most pleasant incident in one’s life.

Chapter II

Sail for New Orleans — Going to sea with a drunken crew — A merchantman s forecastle — ^^Man the windlass'' — Choosing watches — So7ne points of difference between the merchant service and the navy^ with a short digression into the philosophy of sailor craft,

O UR crew numbered ten before the mast, of whom two, my- j

self and another, were boys, the rest being able seamen. We j

came on board at nine a.m., but early as it was, six of the ||

men, taking time by the foi'elock, were already tipsy, and, of j|

eourse, as cross as bears. They were brought on board by the 1 boarding-house keepers, and stowed away in the forecastle, that i

they might, by means of a nap, recover their sober senses. |

Meantime four of us cast off the lines, loosed the sails, and ||

sheeting home the foretopsail, dropped down the harbor a little ||

way, and then came to anchor, the captain determining to wait It

till the morrow, and go to sea with a sober crew.

Our forecastle was a dirty little hole, into which scarcely a j

glimmer of daylight could penetrate. Being just in the bow of '

the vessel, its shape was triangular ; the space clear of the berths being about six feet in length by five wide at the base, divided in the middle by a large stanchion, which formed, on deck, the -

pall-bit of the windlass. Into this little space, ten of us, drunk j

PROCEEDING TO SEA.

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and sober together, were crowded, when evening set in, it beingyet too cold to stay out on deck.

After coming to an anchor, the first labor was to clear up this place, which was to be our residence for some time. The forecastle, being untenanted in harbor, is generally used by the mates or ship-keepers as a place of deposit for old rigging, and we found our bunks full of all manner of odds and ends of rigging. Throwing this stuff upon deck, we arranged our bedding, lashed and cleated our chests, to prevent their fetching away, and then, having taken supper, turned in, to keep warm. I slept but little all night, feeling altogether out of place among a lot of drunken men, who were turning uneasily in their bunks, cursing and swearing, as they shivered in the cold.

Morning dawned at last, and with the earliest ray of light the second mate rapped overhead with a hand-spike, calling all hands to up anchor. How different, thought I, from the shrill pipes of the ' boatswain and his mates, which I had been so long accustomed to. We turned out and sat on our chests, waiting for the call to “ man the windlass.” Several of the drunkards of the previous day were grumbling about sore heads, and ransacked the forecastle through for some liquor. One at last bethought him^to look into his chest, and took thence a large jug, at which all except myself took a long pull. It was passed to me too, but my refusal to participate seemed, nevertheless, to please every one.

Presently, “Man the windlass, there,” from the mate, called us on deck.

“Go aloft two hands, and loose the topsails and topgallant-

THE MERCHANT VESSEL.

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sails,” sung out the captain, as we mustered on the topgallant forecastle. I jumped aloft at the fore, let fall the topsail, toogallantsail, and foresail, and overhauled the rigaing, there being but little wind. We then hove short on the anchor, sheeted home the foretopsail — a few heaves, and — “The anchor’s away, sir,” sung out the mate.

“ H eave him up, and come this way two hands — brace up the foreyard.”

To me, who had been accustomed to seeing two or three hundred men pulling on a brace or halyards, it seemed very strange to see two men called to brace up a yard, or to see five •or six men run up a topsail halyards, to a cheery yo heave yoh, one man running up aloft to the fly block, and then riding down

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■on the fail. On board a vessel of war no singing out at ropes is allowed, the call of the boatswain’s mate giving the signal, to which all pull together. The merchant sailor, on the contrary, delights in making a noise when pulling on ropes, and getting up anchor or hoisting topsails, with a good crew, is always enlivened ' by various cheering songs, which serve the purpose of

keeping all hands in good humor and lightening the work.

Our crew were yet too much stupefied with hard drinking to be able to raise a song, and the anchor was catted and the topsails sheeted home, with nothing livelier than the never-failing “yoho, pull, boys.” We stood out past Boston Ligbt-House, with a light but fair breeze, and were soon in the open Bay, with the highland of Cape Cod ahead. The anchors were got on the bows, ■a portion of the chain cable run down into the chain-locker, the ■decks swept, and then “ get your breakfasts.”

OUR CREW.

Each one took his pot to the “galley,” getting it filled with coffee (sweetened with molasses), while I, being the boy, took the meat and the lobscouse down into the forecastle, and got the bread-barge supplied with bread. Lobscouse is the sea name for a species of hash or stew, made of potatoes, bread, onions, and chopped salt beef. It is a savory mess for hungry tars, and forms a standard dish for breakfast on board all good ships. The scouse, the beef, and bread, being duly arranged on the forecastle deck, each one helped himself to what he pleased,, sitting on his chest, with the pot of coffee and his tin pan beside him. The old topers took a final swig at their jug, and it being emptied, declared it a “ dead marine,” and tossed it into the chain-locker. Then breakfast began, amid a little cheerful conversation, every one appearing glad at the thought that we were fairly underweigh. Presently “ one bell ” was struck, and the man at the wheel was relieved, to get his breakfast. At two bells we were again “ turned to,” and got to work to put on chafing gear, lash water-casks, and get all fast about decks, ready for sea. In this duty the day was spent, and by evening Cape Cod Light was well astern.

After supper, all hands were called aft, and the mates

choose watches for the voyage. All hands are ranged along >

the quarter-deck, and the mate and second mate choose alternately such men as they like best. It is generally thought preferable to be in the mate’s watch, as the second mate’s is also the captain’s, and has, therefore, two heads, and often a consequent double allowance of work. Watches are. not chosen until the close of the first day out, in order that the qualifications

THE MERCHANT VESSEL.

of different individuals of the crew may be tested. Each mate has thus a chance to settle in his mind what men he fancies, while the men have likewise an opportunity of judging as to the relative qualifications of the mates. I had taken a fancy to the chief mate, who was a smart, lively Yankee, and had done my best all day, in order to attract his favorable notice, with the object of being chosen by him. The seamen were of course picked first. When only an ordinary seaman and myself were left to choose from, the mates conferred together, and finally, to my great satisfaction, the mate said :

“ Here, my lad, come over to my side — ”

“ Can vou steer ?” he asked me.

“ Yes, sir.”

“What’s your name.^”

“ Charles, sir.”

“ Well, Charles, you may go and take the wheel till eight •bells, as we have the first eight hours in'.'

I had said that I could steer, but I now took the helm :

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with no little misgiving. • I had done my best, while on board i the schooner, from Norfolk to Boston, to make myself familiar j with the mystery of guiding a vessel on her course, but the |

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little experience gained there did not suffice to give me any j degree of expertness in the art. Fortunately for me the breeze was light and steady, and the ship steered well, and so I steered my first trick without being found fault with.

With a freshening breeze, by twelve o’clock the Highland light was out of sight, and the next morning we were fairly ■out at sea. and the reo'ular routine of sea-life' beiran. Our crew I

THE MERCHANT SERVICE.

had by this time all gotten sober, and with clearer heads there ■came merrier faces, the mutinous and loafing wretch of the day before being now transformed into a smart, lively, and willing tar, able and ready for any .duty — to “hand, reef, or steer, or heave the lead.” Taking altogether, we found ourselves to be about as good a crew — liquor aside — as could be gotten together, for a vessel like ours. And when we got acquainted, got to know each one’s calibre and capacities, we jogged along very happily together.