THE MAN ON THE BRIDGE.

Lake Wakatip Mail, Issue 2903, 24 January 1911, Page 7

THE MAN ON THE BRIDGE.

ABOUT ATLANTIC LINERS AND RECORD-BREAKING. To the "Atlantic Monthly" Lieutenant C. T. Delaney contributes an article entitled "The Man on the Bridge." It has sometimes been asserted, says the "Review of Reviews" that the deck of a modern liner is the safest place in the world, but from this article it would appear that such is very far from being the case. Everything is left to the officer on watch, and he, poor man, is sometimes so dogtired that he can scarcely keep his eyes open, and "is no more fit to be left in charge than a lunatic." The writer says

I have been left in charge of a liner carrying a crew of five hundred twenty-two hundred steerage passengers, three hundred second class, and about three hundred first, in all about thirty-three hundred souls. These, in addition to the valuable

ship and freight, have been under my charge at a time when I have been from thirty to forty hours on my feet, and without sleep or rest. The safety of all has depended upon my vigilance at a time when soul, mind, and body have long been worn out. To keep awake at such times is torture ; one must walk, walk, walk, and get through somehow; and all this in waters crowded wish shipping and where vessels are subjected to the whims of tides ! At no other times in their lives, perhaps, are passengers in such jeopardy. Just when an officer should be at his beet and have all his wits about him, he is as heavy as lead and worse than useless.

Moreover the seamen are allowed to join up at 7 a.m. on sailing-day. Perhaps they are muddled with drink while the officers are properly muddled with fatigue. "Until some fine vessel with her precious cargo," says Leiutenant Delaney, "is sent to the bottom through collision, these things, I believe, will not be rectified."

Passengers often ask, "Who is that boy on the bridge ?" and "where is the captain ?" The captain on an Atlantic liner seems not very often on the bridge, but the boys on it, though they may look boyish, are men in experience and qualification. And when the captain is on the bridge, it may be that he is too old or has been on duty too long to be able either to see clearly or hear distinctly. In justice to the captain and passengers alike, the writer asks, should not the command in case of emergency be handed over to the chief officer ? THE DANGERS OP FOG.

These are so well known that there is no need to insist on them here. They are bad enough in any case, but passengers often add to them. In foggy weather, says the writer

For some unaccountable reason they all seem beat on playing shuffleboard right under the bridge. Their shouts, laughter, and the noise of the boards, all add to the discomforts to the nan on the bridge. His attention is diverted from th: business in hand ; picking up another vessel's foghorn is made much more difficult by these irrelevant noises. I hope that this prod in a much-needed direction will prove fruitful. He gives two instances of terribly narrow escapes which occurred when be was on watch himself—one when the ship, going twenty-one knots, passed within twenty feet of an iceberg ; the other when, going at twenty knots, she just managed to clear another large liner, going twenty-three knots. What a collission ! In no circumstances, asserts Leiutenant Delaney, is full speed ah sad across the ice-track justifiable. Tet apparently this constantly occurs. WINTER VOYAGES SAFER THAN SUMMER ONES.

A winter passage is generally dreaded by the passenger, because the gales make him so sea-sick ; but

winter is hailed with delight by the man on the bridge, who troubles nothing about sea-sick passengers, but only about icebergs, of which he does not have to steer clear. However, he does have terrible weather to face—the worst sea weather in all the. world, the writer thinks, worse even than that round the Horn ; while the intense cold, is intensified by the wind and the speed of a fastmoving vessel. British officers somehow cannot be convinced that a proper look-out can be kept in any sort of shelter. Moreover, walking up and 'down to keep warm may be quite out of the question in winter.

A DOG'S LIFE. A liner officer has a far worse time than a freighter officer (what we call a cargo-boat officer). He has, in short, a dog's life. He is constantly hannted with the fear of silly passengers coming on deck ; and of course they know so much better than he does when the weather is fit for them to do so and when it is not. Once, relates the officer, he had ordered all steerage passengers oil the fore-deck below. Presently, however—

Two mutton-headed Swedes, more daring or ignorant than the rest, ventured on deck just as the vessel dipped and took a heavy sea over the bows. And that sea simply picked up those men and flung them about every where before I had time to stop the ship. One received a serious spinal injury in addition to a fractured thigh, and the other had both arms and a leg broken. For * this I as officer of the watch was held solely to blame, and I suffered accordingly in the way of promotion. "RECORD-BREAKING." Chances are often taken merely in order to land passengers a few minutes earlier So far, these chances seem to have been lucky ; but they might not always be so. Moreover, "records" are continually *'cooded" or "faked." The vessel's official length of course is so much. She often takes short cnta, and re-

daces it, perbape considerably ; but in reckoning her knots per hour, the official distance, not the short cut, is always taken. The writer has also some scathing remarks to make as to the pay of men who have to bear the responsibility of perhaps 3500 lives, a ship valued at perhaps a million and a half sterling, priceless cargoes, mails, and specie. They do not appear to be in receipt of exactly princely salaries. Why, then, do so many men take to this dog's life of extreme responsibility ? Because they are wanderers, "untamed men," who cannot brook a quiet life—such is Lieutenant Delaney's solution of the problem.