THE COMMON BAR

Sun (Auckland), Volume 1, Issue 3, 25 March 1927, Page 14

THE COMMON BAR

WHERE SHELLBACKS YARN BYGONE DAYS Just a small bar, the usual common bar of an ordinary-sized hotel. There is perhaps a little sawdust on the floor, while the atmosphere is densed by the smell of swipes and shag. But'it faces the sea and at nights the glittering lights on the further shore are viewed from it as they wink across the Rangitoto Channel. Among the mirrored shelves which hold the twinkling yet potent contents are some pictures of stately ships, perhaps the Aorangi, the Carinthia, or the luxurious Franconia. While further on, pleasing to the eye of the old shellbacks, are works, some painted, of the fascinating and beautiful oldtime sailors; and there are model ships and sailors’ mementos scattered here and there among the whisky bottles, the decoration of a tavern, loved by all those old and hardy men of the sea, is complete. Throughout, the day, when things are lulled by lack of business, the barman will lounge and listen to some loiterer, maybe a true old shellback and then he learns how things came to pass in bygone days, when ships were ships, and fellows in the fo’castle merited the term “able seaman.” His visitor takes his leave, and with a shaky hand raised he concludes with a parting shot, “There —aint —no —real —sailors now only seagoin’ mechanics.” There is a shrill whistle, followed by another, and then another, five o’clock sounds and toil for the day on the waterfront has ceased. The bar becomes lively with common men—rough men—and men who have weathered the many climates and sailed the seven seas. Only for a while does the jingle of glasses, curses and loud laughter fall to the ear of the passerby, for pay-day is near and cash is limited, and those few shining coins that are to spare soon change hands. A gaze at the old clock, which has ceased for many years (no tick it

means), gives up all hope of more drinks, and they sit around to talk of men and boats. On occasions snatches of conversation recall happenings that have made romance, and sometimes there is reminiscent, chat of the famous “Cutty Sark.’ the speedy Turakina, the adventurous voyage undertaken by Captain Vose in his canoe or those poor devils of the Guy C Ross, penniless they were, who remained on their ship in the stream for those long and weary months. A strike of the clock, one fleeting hour has passed, it is six, and the crowd gradually wander away to leave the old tavern until another day.