SEEING THE WORLD.

Auckland Star, Volume LXII, Issue 69, 23 March 1931, Page 5

SEEING THE WORLD.

MUCH-TRAVELLED TRAMP. HERE FROM MAKATEA. MANY PORTS AND PEOPLES. Now discharging a smelly cargo of phosphates at King's wharf, the Dimrobin does not look very romantic.. A busy British tramp steamer, she looks the part to perfection, and the landsman with the unseeing eye would probably pick her as the last thing in the harbour to make a trip in if he wanted to go voyaging. She would have pleased growling old Dr. Johnson, who could never understand why men went to sea while there were gaols to get into. But if she could tell her story, the drab-looking Dunrobin would have a much better one than "The Ship that Found Herself." She belongs to a Glasgow firm, Glen and Company (the Scottish Navigation Company), who have several more like her, and some smaller "hookers,'' which go pottering round the Mediterranean and the Baltic carrying all sorts of queer cargoes and touching at ports never heard of, even by well-read people. Varied Charters. Since she was launched in 1924 the 5000-tonner Duiirobin has had a remarkably busy career. Life aboard is full of variety, for her people never know what their next port will be. Six months ago they left the little-known port of Methil, in Fifeshire, Scotland, with a cargo of coal for Oran, in Algiers, one of the little bits of La Belle France which the French have planted in that sunny land. When she got rid of her coal, she slipped across in ballast to the Spanish port of Huelva, where she loaded copper pyrites for New York. From the latter port she went down to Tampico in ballast, and loaded nearly 7000 tons of asphalt, the useful residue of crude oil when the petrol and byproducts have been distilled. She discharged the asphalt at Brisbane, Sydney, Melbourne, and Adelaide, and at Newcastle she picked up a cargo of coal which she carried to Papeete. Thence she went across to the French phosphate island of Makatea, 180 miles east of Tahiti. Makatea is one of those islands where ships have to lie off in deep water, because the shore is steep-to and affords no anchorage, and the cargo is boated off in barges, each carrying about ten tons of phosphate in baskets, which are hoisted- aboard by the ship's own winches. The Dunrobin is now busy putting out her cargo, which is one of the things that helps to increase New Zealand's output of butter and cheese. Cosmopolitan. The Dunrobin is no stranger to Auckland, having, been here in August two years ago when she dropped a cargo of Cuba sugar at Chelsea. Like Kipling's "Seven from all the world, back to docks again,'' the people on the Scottish tramp have had a pretty colourful experience. They have drunk their "bock" at the open air cafes at Oran, which are so essentially French, for wherever the Frenchman goes he makes his resting place as much as possible like his beloved "La Belle France." They have sipped their wine at a podesta in Spain. They have strolled down Broadway, and probably wondered why the United States went dry. At Tampico they tasted the queer drinks and food of the Mexicans, but Tampico is one of those cosmopolitan ports where ships gather from the Seven Seas and a few corners of the earth. In Australia and New Zealand they found a bit of the Old Country at the other side of the world. In Papeete they touched France again, plus the "glamour of the Isles of Eden," and at Makatea they had to stick to the ship, which, after ten days loading the dusty phosphate, looked as though she had come through a desert sand storm. It took them several days to get the stuff out of the cabins and their clothes. "The glamour of the Isles of Eden" is apt to leave the sailormen cold, but they agree that their stay in the beautiful Tahitian port was the pleasantest part of a pretty strenuous voyage round the world. A Record-breaker. Captain J. W. D. Ramsay, who was in command when the Dunrobin was here last, is noted for dispatch. Had he lived in the days of sail he would probably have been known as "Hell-fire Ramsay," or some such sobriquet bestowed on the skipper who liked "cracking on," and was never happier than when the ship was snoring through the seas with all her kites out. The delightful part of life aboard the Dunrobin is that nobody knows where he will find himself as the result of the next charter. "Where to after New Zealand?" "Goodness knows," said the second officer. But to these tramp sailors nothing comes as a surprise. They are at home in any port, among any 'nationality, and although each man is full of experiences, he takes it all as a matter of course, and when you ask, "What sort of a voyage this time?" he will invariably reply, "Oh, nothing out of the way—just the usual sort of passage." Casual folk!