DEEP-SEA MEMORIES.

New Zealand Herald, Volume LXVII, Issue 20620, 19 July 1930, Page 1 (Supplement)

DEEP-SEA MEMORIES.

THE LAST OF THE REWA.

BY HENRT H. BOOTES,

"So tho old Rowa lias gone at last!" said the Bo'sun as he leaned against the coal truck at the end of Queen's wharf. Tho bollard close by was our favourite seat. Hero we often met to talk over old times when we were shipmates in a tamous London clipper bound from tho west coast of America to Queenslown for orders. He hobbled to his usual seat and cut a pipe of tobacco as was his habit forty years ago. Then, as he rubbed it through his hands, he enid: "Do you mind the day when we saw tho old craft away down off the Horn? Gee! Wasn't it cold, and didn't it blow?" My mind went bark immediately over the long stretch of time and once again I stood beside my friend on the windswept deck of a roiling ship running the easting down with only tho main-lower-topsail and a rag of a goose-winged upper main-topsail, and a weather-cloth in the mizzen rigging, flying over the white crested green seas at fifteen knots an hour, with a tearing south wester behind us, reeling off the miles of longitude, three hundred and twenty-fivo each twenty-four hours. For seventy-two hours the blow hjd lasted, during which time we had shortened our voyage to the Homeland by over a thousand miles, and we were still going strong. There was not a dry rag in any saiiorman's kit-bag. The forecastle, carpenter's shop and galley had been washed out many times during our phenomenal run by the seas that tumbled on board with each roll, and the thermometer was well below zero, but what cared we/ " Hurrah, my boys, we'ro homeward bound!" would sing the chanty-man. On the third night, in the middle watch, tho goose-winged topsail was torn from the bolt-ropes and went flvinp away over the moonlit sea like paper kites. Two men were sent aloft to pass a preventer gasket round the mizzen-topgabant-staysail, which was stowed abaft tho head of the main lower mast; they were the writer and the man on tho bollard. It was no easy task to climb the main-rig-ging, for the ship rolled with a mighty swing, dipping the main yard-arms into the heaving sea and scooping up tons of water which crashed on the main deck with the roar of artillery.

A Light or a Star? The fore-and-aft bridge of our fine old clipper was an asset not to be despised. Waiting for the ship to swing to an even keel, we leaped for the rigging, cheating the licking, curling white water which washed about the deck just beneath us. catching the full blast of the freezing wind and lacerating the flesh of our hands on the sharp, hanging icicles between the ratlings. Up and up we clambered, pausing breathlessly with each roll, swearing defiantly and with anger as the wind of tho rolling sh.p strove to tear us from the rigging. At last the main-top was reached, and after at least an hour of hard toil the gasket was passed and there was not a wrinkle of canvas exposed to the gale. My eyes wandered round the skyline, for tho moon gave great visibility, and the sight of the fast-tumbling seas was A picture never to be forgotten. There was not a cloud to be seen; the full-inoon shone out of a sky of steely brilliancy which was reflected by the roiling water that resembled tens of millions of horses rearing their snow-white heads, rising, tumbling and racing ever onward as though jealous of the fast-moving ship. . We clung to tho rigging for a while; the fight with the elements had warmed our blood and our flesh tingled, although wo were weary for want of sleep and weakened by hunger. I drew my watchmate's attention to something away on the starboard quarter. It was useless to try to speak; the roar of the crashing seas and the rush of the wind through the. cordage made speech impossible. Was it a ship's light or was it a rising star? We did not know, neither did we care as we traversed again the painful, hazardous journey to the bridge below, with oilskins ripped and torn to ribands, sou'westers blown from our chin-straps and now drifting many miles astern. The Alice A. Leigh.

At dawn a ship appeared a few miles away on the starboard beam. Ihe lighi we had reported from the main-top had been seen by the men on deck during tho first hour oi' the grave-yard watch (midnight to four a.m.) She was a large four-masted barque with only the lower main-topsail standing. The bolt ropes of her fore and mizzen-lower-topsails were fringed with portions of torn canvas, and she had lost more than one topsail. Toward noon the two ships drew closer together and numbers were hoisted. Our-deep-sea neighbour was the Alice A. Leigh, later known as Eewa. She was bound for Queenstown, Ireland, for orders. Greetings were exchanged. Tho job of hoisting a string of flags in a tearing gale was no sinecure, but we got then) hoisted. On the starboard side a long line of icebergs (the terroi of the Great Southern Ocean in the days of -sail) could be seen standing up above the skyline like the cliffs of a snow-covered island, and portions of drift ice were met with. Dur ing tho afternoon the g,ilo moderated and hauled a little to tho south. The skipper of the Alice A. Leigh set his fore-topmast-staysail and hove to. Our skipper ordered the fore* and mizzen-lower-topsails to be set, and we squared away to tho northward. The four-masted barque dropped astern and we quickly ran away from her. A Wonderful Sight.

Wo met the Alice A. Leigh again during the run to the northward. We saw her with every stitch of canvas spread to the south-east trade wind. She presented a wonderful sight as sho slipped through the long ocean swell, flinging aside the sparkling spray with her sharp cutwater, revealing just a thin pink line of her boot-topping This time she outpaced us with her number hoisted, but it was not for our benefit. A large steamer, with a great spread of canvas 011 all four of her tall masts, steaming about eleven knots, was coming up astern. She was taking advantage of the trade winds, as was usual in the transition days from sail to steam Steamers with huge, square sails were familiar sights in almost every sea. The Alice A. Leigh hung on to that steamer for the rest of the day; at night they passed over the northern skyline and we saw them 110 more. Later wo lay in the anchorage of Cork Harbour with a largo fleet of well-known ships for the space of throe days, when orders arrived for Dunkirk. As we were towed through the heads and clear of the land the Alice A. Leigh lay some distance away signalling a pilot boat. She, too, received orders for Dunkirk, and. as my old friend the Bo'sun remarked, " A humdinger race for the Downs followed." A strong westerly carried us to the Wolf, then it hauled to the north with squalls of cold rain. We lost sight of our deepsea neighbour, but that was not the last we saw of her. It was from the deck of (110 CalaisDover steamer that we two next saw the Alice A. Leigh being towed to the l<rencli port of Dunkirk "Yes," said the _Hos.ni, as ho roso from the l»ollarcI, and <hdn we drink good luck to the Alice A. Leigh in a class of >;ood whisky ' " What do von say, Bo s ? 1 returned with a laugh. * " Shall wo repeal the ceremony after close on forty years and drink a benediction to the old bones of a very fine ship—the Rewa?" "Amen!" he responded joyfully, and the ceremony was duly performed.