THE OCEAN QUEEN.

Press, Volume LIII, Issue 9363, 12 March 1896, Page 3

THE OCEAN QUEEN.

Br John Arthur Barbt. Thii-ty years ago, as a lad, I played alongside her newly-laid keel, and day by day watched the great ribs spring up thei-efrom, and the graceful fabric take form and shape, and grow into a ship. As a lad I stood and watched her glide majestically into the sea to the sound of music and cheering, and the fluttering of flags, whilst the sun shone brightly on the beautiful lines of the long green hull with its broad gilt moulding, and on the snow-white lady, golden-crowned, at the bows, who, with arm outstretched, pointed to her Home. I doubt whether they can build such ships las the Ocean Queen in these days of iron, steel and steam. Time passed, and I saw her again. It was in the S.E. Trades. I was an apprentice on board a clipper ship trading to China. One morning, as we were washing down, we saw the royals of a large ship, looking like the flash of a sea-bird's wings far astern. By breakfast time she had risen her three top-gallant s'ls " She's bringing a stronger breeze with her," said our captain, as he ogled her through his glass, "and we'll lose her again directly." But, although the stranger continued to gain on us, the wind did not freshen. Now, our ship—the Cutty Sark— w r as acknowledged to be, without exception, almost, the fastest sailer afloat; and as the other ship rose her top-saiis, courses, and hull, there could not have b«en more excitement had we been hailed by the Flying Dutchman, and ordered to heave-to. She like ourselves, was under all plain sail. But, presently, as she still continued to gain, the Cutty Sark burst forth into a perfect pyramid of bellying canvas, as stun's'ls were run out fore and aft, alow and aloft ; skysail yards sent up, and all the racing paraphernalia of a crack China clipper brought into uttermost requisition. Unmoved by all this display, the stranger gave no sign—never shifted a rope-yarn—and still continued to overhaul us. "Gracious heavens!" exclaims our skipper, " she travels like a steamer ! I believe she mvist be one of those auxiliary things they'e building now, only I don't see any smoke." She had been steering exactly the same course as ourselves, and, therefore, dead end on. But, now, the wind quartering a little, she gathered in her braces and kept away a few points, exposing the whole length of her long dark hull upon which nothing in shape of a funnel could be discerned. We had not another rag left that we could set. Also, we were being beaten on our best point of sailing—we, who had won the Great Ocean Race two years in succession, against every rival. It was hard to bear; and the old skipper's face showed his astonishment and mortification very plainly.

In the afternoon, about four bells, the stranger, then two mile 3on the weather quarter, hoisted English colours and showed her number.

" Four-nine-eight-six," muttered the skipper, as he turned over the book, whilst the mate read the code off through the glass. '' Why, she isn't here," he continued. "Must be brand new. This is last year's book, too !" Meanwhile, having borrowed an excellent glass from one of the passengers, I had been able to plainly make out the figure-head I remembered so well as the ship lifted her bows now and again into the bright sunshine. "She's the Ocean Queen" I exclaimed " Tyne-built —1800 tons ! I saw he, launched, and this will be her first voyage. 5 ' This sudden outpouring of knowledge made mc for a few minutes the centre of attraction whilst I told the little I knew. And I felt important until the mate sent mc aloft with a tar-pot. As, in another hour or two, she drew up on our starboard quarter, every soul on board pf us hung over .the rail eagerly watching a spectacle unequalled in the wide world, and one that—although fore and aft there was no little chagrin at our discomfiture —nobody could help but appreciate the wonderful grace and beauty of.

She was quite tons larger than the i Cutty Sark, and so squarely rigged that her main top-g'l'nt-s'l would have made for us a mizzen tops'l and a little to spare. The j breeze had come nearly abeam, and we were beginning to lean over to it and show our decks, wet here and there with splashes | slopped over the weather bulwarks. : But! the Queen shore through the lumpy water, | upright and stately as any big ocean | steamer, with a wave two feet high on each side of her sharp fore-foot, whose -copper sheathing glittered .through the curtain of spray. Her masts and yards were painted a delicate buff colour, and her new canvas shone like mounds of piled-up snow as the eye followed curve after . curve towering far aloft to the gilt-buttoned royal-poles. At this moment—nearly abreast—they checked their yards, and leaning towards us she showed a wide expanse of clean, stainless deck, running from her top-gallant fok'ale away aft to a poop like a big ballroom door floor,-crowded with uniformed officers aud smartly dressed passengers, and glistening with polished brass-work and glass reflecting the rays of the lowering sun. . Seeing that she meant to speak us, we took a pull on our weather braces, and presently the two ships were within easy hearing distance. An elderly man standing near the mizzen- vane? courteously raised his gold-laced cap. Our skipper did the same. " Where are you bound for?" asked the latter. " London from Foochow," was the reply. "Well, sir," said our skipper, "you've got a fine fast ship, and I'm afraid it's no use our trying to keep you company. I didn't think there was anything afloat, except a_ steamer, could do what she's done to-day. Report us, please. We're bound to the same place." " It's her first voyage," answered the other " And she must be fast to have overhauled tou. I could hardly credit it when we made your number out. Shouldn't wonder, though," he went on with a faint attempt at consolation, " if the Cutty Sark couldnt show us a clean pair of heels with a couple of reefs in." But our skipper just glanced up at the others enormous spread of canvas and shook his head dubiously.

Good-byes were interchanged; and, as the ensigns were dipped, we began to take in our kites, satisfied that, bar accidents, we had no show for the £100 and new hat that voyage. She beat us home by a fortnight. Years passed ; and steamers began to spot every ocean. We had just thumped and screwed our way through the Straits of Magellan in one of them—a big cargo boat—and were heading for New Zealand when we sighted a large ship flying signals of distress. Bearing down, we saw that her fore-topmast and j ibboom were gone. From the bridge, as we approached, I made out once more the golden-crowned figure, and knew it must be the Ocean Queen. And so it proved.

She had been in collision with an iceberg further to the southard, and, besides damaging her top-hamper, knocked a nasty hole in her bows. She wanted nothing, Jjfiwevttfr axosjovto tranship Jawr-passengera,

who refused to proceed to Rio, whither the captain meant to put in and refit. We took them, and, in addition, stood by her fortyeight hours and helped them all we could. Luckily the sea was calm and the weather set fair; and, at last, patched up and sparred after a fashion, she made a fresh start, sailing, even then, like the witch she was. But, first, they gave us officers of the Ilimani a grand dinner, whilst Jack made merry for'ard, and healths were drunk, and good wishes interchanged, and tho great saloon rang with mirth and gaiety almost under the shadow of Cape Horn.

Years passed; steam became universal, and the great historic names and deeds of the crack clippers of the 60's and 70's waned and dulled in the smoke from a thousand stacks; and the throbbing of engines and swirl of screws seemed to fill the seas from shore to shore. One morning, after a long absence from town, looking from my window on to a secluded little bay in the harbour, I saw a ship at anchor whose outlines appeared familiar. Presently, getting a boat, I sculled on board. Passing the bows I looked up. There, grimy and mutilated, I recognised once more the white lady of the Ocean Queen.

It was gloomy, drizzly weather, and the wind shrilled drearily through the rigging as I stepped on board, blowing the slack gear into bights, and making the sailless yards creak forlornly. Decks and paintwork were thick with dirt, the iron fittings were thick with rust, the brass ones with verdigris.

As I gazed, out from the galley crept an old, old man.

" Ay," said he, in answer to my question, " this is her, sure enough ! Morn forty year old now, an' soun' as a bell yet below. She's for sale cheap, But wot's the good— the way frites is ? A rare fast'un she useter be, too. 1 seen her in Shanghai, that time she beat the Parsee—the finest race as ever was knowed or heerd on. My, she were a flyer ! An' now, 'ere she lies, a goin' to rack an' rune ! Some o' her yards is that dry-rotty as you could stick your knife right up into 'em." The big saloon that I remembered last as filled with a goodly company, glittering with cut glass and polished panels and silver under the soft lamplight, and echoing to the sound of revelry as the ship swung lazily to the great Horn swell, has now a dreary cavern, given over to dust and cobwebs and decay. " They'll be "aving of 'er broke up, biemby," remarked the old chap, interrupting my reflections. "An' they'll never build another un like 'er. She's soun' as a bell below, an' 'ud live for another forty year easy. She's cheap, too," and he peered curiously up at mc as if suspecting a possible buyer. For another year she swung with the tides in the cahn waters of the little bay, ever fouling her hawser and clearing and fouling again at her own sweet will—a season of rest before the coming of the ignoble end. Then they towed her away and dismantled her ; rigged her up with derricks, disfigured her shapely sides with huge fenders, and bound her down neck and heels in an evilsmelling muddy reach where she still lies, and will lie till she rots away piecemeal, supplying with coal the smaller steamers that feed the great ocean-going boats. The white lady that for so many years pointed ever onward, out through storm and calm, torrid heats', and Antarctic bergs, is now but a shapeless black lump of wood, and it would take sharp eyes indeed to distinguish in " Hulk No. 47," the once ever victorious Ocean Queen. — Australian Pastoralists 1 Revieio. '"