THE SHIPMASTER.

Auckland Star, Volume LXV, Issue 11, 13 January 1934, Page 1 (Supplement)

THE SHIPMASTER.

AN ABSOLUTE AUTOCRAT.

(By SEA JAY.)

A ship may fly; the flag of a democracy, but her master is an autocrat. There are probably very few people outside those whose daily life takes them into contact with maritime affairs who realise how much power is vested in the master of a ship, and how much the world at large and the Empire in particular owes to his use of that power. To sum up his inany offices briefly, he is the supreme head.of all departments and is in sole charge of the ship and everything in it. .He is beyond criticism; no decision can be made without him; he may or may not take advice of the head of any department should the matter in hand affect that department, but in any case it is he who bears the responsibility. He is the judge and adviser in all things on board. He can be guide, philosopher and friend, in which case the ship will be a happy one; but he can be bully and tyrant, when life on board will be a misery for everyone. In an emergency the life of every person on board may depend on his action for the common welfare, beeide the safety of cargo whose value may run into hundreds of thousands of pounde.

He can marry the quick, and he buries the dead. He is held responsible for his ship by the powers that be from the time he signs his name in the ship's register until he is relieved and another master signe below him. It is not generally known that though a local pilot, in bringing a vessel into port, may be involved in a mishap causing damage to the snip, it is the shipmaster who is held responsible by the shipping company. Moreover, the underwriting company which is carrying the ship in its insurance business, regards the pilot only ae an aid to navigation, and not as a responsible party, and so in a ship's logbook you will find the entry whilst entering port: "Pilot's advice, commander's orders."

In the pre-war and pre-wireless days the tramp steamer carried a very large proportion of the world's goods, and a large percentage of British tonnage was of the tramp class. In thoee days the tramp master was probably the best ambassador that Britain ever had. "The Ambassadorship of the Red Duster" was world wide; in every part of the globe where a cargo was likely to be had the Red Ensign of the Merchant Service proclaimed the superiority of British ships —and sailors.

Nowadays the modern shipmaster inclines more to the specialist than did his forbear, each one's particular interest being determined by the trade in which he is engaged; refrigeration, bulk oils, grain, locomotive, and a host of others; and experts are frequently surprised at the grasp of their subjects.

It is a lonely life, a life of long sea passages and ever-present responsibility. The sea is not the kindliest of mistresses, as every sailor knows, and only the best can eerve her for long and avoid her many pitfalls. It is a tribute to the shipmaster, and those who serve him, that so few fall by the way.