WOOL AWAY FROM LONDON

Auckland Star, Volume LXIX, Issue 220, 17 September 1938, Page 2 (Supplement)

WOOL AWAY FROM LONDON

departure of a beautiful Mil. ng ship wool laden for London was a frequent eight every season "v. ti* W large seaport*. We shall ee«« them no more. The hundred largn motor liner* that trade between the Dominion and Great Britain have altogether changed the *eagoing business of the country. The l'>ng voyage round Cape Horn, in which many ships were lout, has been replaced l»v t hp short. <lirpct route *la the Panama ( unal the great Southern Ocean is a lonely sea. Now we have only thp memory of those itrand da ye of thp wailing shi|w, and the photograph* and jihitit which ure so greatly treasured a« reminders "f tall and handsome ships. nnd tlip l>rave and skilful men who nailed t hem.

By - - - James Cowan

The picture reproduced on this pajie »!inw» one of the laet of the dippers that traded to New Zealand and Australia, leaving the port of Wellington fully loaded with a valuable cargo of wool for London. Tlie year wan IWW; the ship was the Loch <>arve, built of uteri. 1700 ton* rejiisler. I shall describe her departure hi* I mw it from the tug that took lier nut, of port.. She represents A jjlory that ha* departed. Thrre wan much to admire in the graceful cutwater, the lift of fiyurelieml and boweprit, and the straight mid l<»fty spars lifting »o high in the iiir; her main truck was juet IHOft iihmvc the deck. The big sailer wa* crammed to the hatches with wool, more than 8000 bales of it, worth i!I7O,(WMt, besides 4(H) or 500 tons of minerals stowe<l in the bottom as stiffening. Thoee iron-banded bale* of wool, so tightly pressed by hydraulic power and deftly etowed iind tightly screwed tier after tier in the great hold, represent the year's labour on many an tip-country sheep station. The crew numbered 23 all told; the last three or four sailors *hlpr»d received £40 for the run to London. Leaving the Anchorage. Steam in up in the ship's donkey engine forward, for hoisting the anchor and the heavy sails. The donkey engine, however, k not much use at sea. There the eailors tail on to the halliards as of old; and the heavy yards are sheeted home to the old sea chantey of "Blow the Man Down," "Ranzn, Boys, Ranzo," "Tom's Bound to Hilo." —

other of the fthip-working song* that are now heard more often on shore than at sea.

The la«t, pood-hyp* are said on hoard, and the captain'* friends leave the ship. The tug glides ahead and passe* the head of the towline, a "tout ">in hemp hawser, to the men on the foVsle. The l>ig anchor is l>y thin time off the ground and up mid down; it comes slowly up to the click-clack of the capstan. The tnaie i« liusy seeing to the "catting'' anil "lUliing" of the anchor, that is. ttecuring it on the forecastle head. The skipper is walking the poop; a man in sent to the wheel. The towing hawser tauten* as the strain comes on it. the lyx'h (iarve's head cants to otarhoard. and ohe slowly gathers way liehind the tugging litico. She has loosed her last grip of Xew Zealand mud. "Fare-you Well." A hig tramp steamer i* lying a <|iiarter of a mile away. As the sHiler swing* round to her towline and gathers way three bright flags tire hoisted on the steamer and the Loch (Jarve's red eneign in dipped three times in acknowledgment. The -hips are saving "good-I>vp." The «teamer s signal flags are those given in the international sea-c*xle as " TDIj," letters which mean: "Wish you a pleasant voyage." The skipper of the square-rigger opens hiM flag locker, hends on three coloured flags to the uiizzeii-signal-halliards and liowts away. The

A Clipper Ship Goes To Sea

flags are equivalents of the code letters "KOg," which, being interpreted, signify: "Thank You." And very eoon the anchored tramp and the city of Wellington, with its background of lofty terraced hills, are an indistinct blur astern in the heat and the haze of a arnoky midsummer morning. Hoisting Sail. A whistle sound* from the ship's foVsle. It is tlie chief officer's signal to "Vast heaving" to the donkey engine man, for the anchor is at the cat-head. Then another order, and the hands lay aloft to loose the sail*, (oi-krts are cast off and the big foresail and mainsail and the long hand* of topsails lie loose; then the fore and main topgallant sails. The halliards are taken to the winch; the upper topsail-vard* are hoisted, the halliards belayed; then the top-gallant-sails. and the great foresail and mainsail are let fall. On the inixxen the two topsails and the topgallant sail and the little royal are set. Presently a young sailor appears on the fore-roval yard; he looses the gasket that confines the sail and lets the canvas fall. "Sheet home,'' and the yard glides to the royal masthead. Now there only remains the main-royal. This, too, is unfurled and hoisted. The ship i« now passing out through Wellington Heads, square lx»fore the breeze. As the light ocean swell is felt the k-autiful craft logins

her stately dance. She lifts and bows in a slow and rhythmic measure with the wind in her canvas and the ea«y run of the swell. A ruffle of white water at her bows; above it the white painted figurehead, one of the old-time figures that will be carved no more. The breeze sings in her sails, and lifts her on to the ocean that she will tramp steadily for the next 90 or 100 days. "So Long!" The white tower of Pencarrow lighthouse is on the port beam; the open sea is before the ship. With the freshening breeze, dead aft, she has a good slant of wind to start her for the Horn run. The tug skipper give* a sharp blast of his whistle, and shouts, "Let go!" to the mate on the ship foVsle head. The hawser is oast off. Away the flipper rides free, sweeping superbly past U9, and opens up to us her gTeat length of side and her three towers of canvas, with just enough heel to put life and motion into her gait. (That is the moment depicted in my photograph.) Now she draws swiftly ahead, and a noble subject for a sea artist she in at this instant, close on our portbow with every cloth full and drawing—a [perfect picture in a sailorman's eyes. The last good-byes are waved; the tng-l>oat toots her steam whistle thrice in farewell, and puts about for port. Away into the southern haze glides the tall ship, all three masts in one, her hull and sails growing fainter and fainter in the pale blue smoky distance. In half an hour she has melted from our sight altogether and is alone upon the ocean, marching bra\ely down into the great Sea of Storms, where biting cold and mighty waves and peril of drifting icebergs await her little company— "And all to take a cargo up to London to wo."