GOING TO SEA?

Evening Star, Issue 22721, 7 August 1937, Page 3

GOING TO SEA?

“WELL, WE'D LIKE TO" LURE OF THE SAILING SHIP It has been said that the age of romance is dead. But, if not romance, what consumes some young New Aealanders with a passion to forsake their own country for distant fields r nomadic impulse which attracts them to the ship of sails can likewise be described only by one word—romance. There are, however, and possibly always will be, those venerable patriarchs who will stoutly affirm that the elusive quality of romance received its death blow with th© passing of bustles and side whiskers. , Could one of those gentlemen, if only for the briefest span, imagine himself the skipper of a sailing vessel in. a New Zealand port—or any .port, for .that matter—-he would quickly be disillusioned. For the arrival in port of a sailer synchronises with a flood or appeals for berths before the mast which instantly proves that romance pulsates undiminished in youthful Not true? Well, ask the skipper of the Cap Pilar. In the short time his little barqnentine has been m Auckland (states the ‘Star’ of July 24), he has been inundated with applications from all over the Dominion from young men—and a young lady, too—who have been actuated by the familiar paternal injunction, “ Co to sea, my boy, go to sea.” And they want to go to sea, badly. Most of the hopefuls already have good positions ashore, but that is a mere bagatdle. The call of the sea, the undeniable appeal of wanderlust, is tpo strong in their veins. They come from all walks of life —bank clerks, commercial travellers, radio operators, a saw mill manager, sea cadets, motor salesmen, a cook, a builder, an engineer, a postal clerk, an artist who is “ also a good cook,” and even sailors. Of them all, only one has served before, the mast in a deep-water sailer. For the others, they are chiefly ardent yachtsmen or “ have always been interested in ships.” Another attraction seems to be the ultimate destination of England. Only one was frank enough to pour out his domestic woes and admit that he was fed up with his own country. Another would-be sailor said that he had . tried to get a berth

aboard every sailing ship which .had visited New Zealand and had missed “ by a hair.” He asked no pay and said he would he willing to work 24 hours a day, . A novel recommendation for appointment was that one “ had never been troubled by seasickness in the worst weather,” which was on a parallel with the man who was “ very fond of the salt, but as yet. has tasted very little salt water.’l Capping them all was the

appeal “if you will take pity on 4 couple of ignorant, though willing, sailors . . . will find, the cash or bust . . . determined to see something or the world before we get like the old crocks we work with.” And the odd feature is that not so many years ago sailors had to be brutally shanghaied sailing ships. Times do change. Yet even so, the Cap Pilar is still short of her full complement.