CAPTAIN HARRY SMITH TELLS OF SAILING DAYS.

Star (Christchurch), Issue 18340, 17 December 1927, Page 22 (Supplement)

CAPTAIN HARRY SMITH TELLS OF SAILING DAYS.

ON FOREIGN AND NEW ZEALAND COASTS. (By the REMINISCENCE MAN.) No. IV. “ Well, how are we getting on now?” Captain Harry Smith asked the Reminiscence Man at the beginning of the next session concerning his seafaring days. “ Let me see. I think our last yarn concluded at the point where I had left the Electra in London, and joined up again with the Naval Reserve for further training. Yes, that’s so, and now I’ll carry on another stage in our voyaging.” The Evelyn. After I had undergone two months’ further training with the Naval Reserve (Captain Smith went on), I signed on the Evelyn, of London, a fullrigged ship of 750 tons, as second mate. I cannot recollect how who her owners were, but-Captain Pheases, of Montrose, was in command. He was as hard as nails. I met him many years afterwards on the New Zealand coast, when he was on the Edwin Fox. The Evelyn was bound for Madras with general cargo and as far as I can remember the voyage V>ok us a hundred and twenty days. On arrival there we had to anchor in the open roadstead. There were no wharves, only one small screwpile jetty, running at right angles to the beach. The loading and discharging of cargo was carried out by surfboats, which discharged straight on to the beach. With Coolies to Mauritius. When we had completed unloading, our captain secured a charter to take coolies to Mauritius, for work on the sugar plantations there. There were 470 coolies, men and women, in our first complement. They come from inland India and were accommodated in the ’tween decks. There were about twenty different castes included among them, and I can tell you it was a bit of a job to keep the various castes separate. When the coolies came on board, each one wore a tablet, with a number on it, on the left arm. It was the duty of the doctor’s assistant, a half-caste, to take these tablets off, and take charge of them. You can understand what sort of a place a small ship of 700 tons odd was like with 470 cpolies stowed below, A Wary Skipper. We departed from Madras in the month of October, and had a most remarkable experience. We had not been long out at sea, with a fair wind, when the glass went down very low, and remained so for about a week. Scenting trouble, Captain Pheases had the ship hove to every afternoon at four o’clock, and she remained so till daylight. He proved right in his conjecture that there was a hurricane travelling ahead of us, as when we arrived in Mauritius about a fortnight later we found many “ lame ducks ” anchored at the moorings there. Most of them were dismasted and had had their decks swept clean. The hurricane had passed over Mauritius, causing great devastation, and many lives were lost both ashore and at

Getting One Back! - v While lying at Mauritius an American ship put in for repairs, and when these were completed the captain expressed the opinion that he had- been Taken down in regard to the big bill charged him, so when "he sailed he perpetrated his revenge in a rather mean and petty fashion. About two miles outside of Port Louis there was a bellbuoy, and the Yankee removed the bell from this. I hope it gave him some consolation. But the charges in Mauritius for repairs to ships were certainly exorbitant. In fact, in many cases it would have been more profitable to have given the shipwrights the ship than foot the bill. But, of course, in those days, there were no cables, and for a captain to communicate with his owners by mail was rather precarious, entailing as it did a very long time. Why the Lady “ Bobbed ” Her Hair. But I am running rather ahead of myself. I must tell you something of life aboard ship, with a collection of "holies as passengers. Before leaving Madras we were advised by seamen who knew to pack all our gear away except what clothes were absolutely necessary for the voyage, and we soon discovered the reason for this. Herded together as they were, the coolies became verminous, and the consequence was that the “ animals ” also affected the crew. The captain’s wife was aboard—she was a very fine woman—and as a consequence of the epidemic she had to have her beautiful tresses of hair shorn off. She was about the first “shingled” or “ bobbed ” .woman that I ever saw, so that she became a pioneer of one of the fashions to-day.

The Coolies’ Washing Day. Before we put the coolies ashore at Mauritius, two big screens were rigged up on deck, with force pumps outside each, four men to each pump. In each tent two of the biggest members of the crew, who were called the “ bears,” were detailed off to look after the coolies as they came in for their wash, which consisted of the force pumps being played upon their bodies. You can understand what sort of a douching they would get in a “bath” like that.* The doctor’s assistant stood by to see that none of the coolies was drowned altogether. After the hosing down, each male coolie was given a new waistcloth and the women were each presented with a fresh length of calico, and after being passed by the doctor were Hut ashore.

Indian Curry. None of the coolies could speak a word of English, and. I had the task to serve out the stores on the trip, for feeding them. Six big boilers were fitted on the deck, three for cooking their rice, and three for making the curry in. The Indian curry is not curry as we know it. In addition to the curry itself it contained aniseed, tamarisk, common seeds and other ingredients. I had a feed of the rice and curry, and found it -very good. I also had to serve out water to the coolies three times a day. ..gome of them had their own drinkitig vessels, little chatties, while others of different castes cupped their hands together into which I poured the water. ** Paul and Virginia.” There was an old friend of mine serving before the mast on the Evelyn, and one day ashore we went up t£ a place called Pomp le Mounis, a sort of a botanic garden outside of Mauritius. . We took our lunch, and two or three bottles of beer. You have heard of the book called “ Paul and Virginia,” I suppose, and near this botanic garden this hero and heroine lie buried. We went up to their graves and rested there;, as a matter of fact we went to sleep. The tombstones and grave edgings were very dilapidated, owing to the desecration of visitors, who had chipped pieces off them to take away as mementoes. Under Jury Rig. As we were about to sail from Mauritius the ship William Fairband. of Liverpool, came in under jury rig, with .£tua'sl booms for masts, .She had

passed right through the centre of the hurricane, and when the wind shifted to the opposite quarter a huge sea came over the foc’sle head and rushing aft completely swept her decks, even to the stanchions. She was a poop ship, and the sea swept away the cabin right to the transoms, and her three masts went close to the deck. Becalmed. We loaded with coal and sailed for Bombay. Subsequently we made another trip to Mauritius with coolies, this time also taking cargo in our lower hold. I can tell you Ido not look upon those voyages with the coolies as altogether pleasant memories. One return trip we took back to India a number of sick coolies. They were suffering from Mauritius fever, and half of our crew, myself included, caught the disease. A number of the coolies died aboard, and were buried at sea. That was a long, weary voyage, as for some time we were becalmed on the Equator.

A Bit of a Blow. On one occasion we returned to Madras just at the change of the monsoons. There were over thirty ships anchored in the roadstead there, many of them fine big vessels. Among them was the Blackwall ship the Gosforth, belonging to the Soames line. The wind at the time of our arrival was hanging to the nor’-east, and gradually increasing in force to a gale. A singular thing was that nearly all the captains of the ships were ashore when instructions were received from the Master Attendant there for all ships to strike 3'ards and topmasts. A good many of the officers aboard ship took heed of the warning, while others ignored it, little thinking that the gale would turn into a cyclone. Our skipper was among those ashore, and the first mate left an obedience to the Master Attendant’s warning too late, and when we started to follow the instruction the cyclone was on us.

Then a Cyclone. I must here mention what I regard as an act of Providence. The day before the cyclone the captain’s wife, who w’as still aboard, came to me and said:

“Mr Smith, I must go ashore.” I signalled to the shore, and a surf-boat came out, into which I put Mrs Pheases. Next day the gale was increasing and the wind started to back. That is, instead of the centre coming off the land, it came from the sea. and that was the commencement of the most thrilling time during my career at sea. The date would be about May 1, 1872 or 1873, at the moment I am not quite clear on that. You will gain an idea of the force of the wind when I tell you that a ventilator on the foc’s’le, which went right down to the ’tween decks, and which it would take four good strong men all their time to lift, was lifted right out by the gale and blown clean over the stern of the ship without touching anything. Sent to Their Doom. *

The first vessel to part her chains was a little brig belonging to Calcutta. She was driven shorewards, and went clean through the screw-pile jetty, emerging on the lee side of it. As far as I can remember the next to part her anchors was a large Liverpool ship. With staysails set, she ran right up on the beach among the shingle, standing there as if she was in the dock. A most pitiful sight was that of another ship which, after breaking loose, fell across the Gosforth’s bows, and the whole three <it the Gosforth’s masts fell as if they were so many skittles. The cruel jpart of it was that with the impact the Gosforth now parted her cables, and locked together the two ships went ashore. Nearly all the Gosforth’s crew were drowned. Where Fortune Favoured.

We started to cut away our topmast, and as it came down it brought the mizzen topmast with it, and this fell on the poop. You would hardly believe me, but the mizzen topmast went right through the poop deck into the captains cabin, completely wrecking the bunk of Mrs Pheases. It was indeed lucky that she had gone ashore, as probably she would have ; been in her cabin at the time. Many Trials and Tribulations.

During the cyclone the Evelyn’s gun’ls were almost continually under water. I was still bad with Mauritius fever when the first mate came down and asked me to go up on deck to lend a hand, as he was going to cut the mainmast away. I wa s that weak that I could hardly hold myself up if it had been a fine day, let alone against the fury of a cyclone. After cutting the rigging away we thought that the mainmast was bound to go but it still stood as solid as a rock! Then the carpenter, with a broad axe and watching the roll of the ship cut a scarf round it, and it went overboard This left us with only the foremast and fore topmast. I can hardly describe to you what a horrible feeling it was as the wreckage of the masts took soundings alongside, the ship now and again bumping on it. Add to that the spectacle of the other ships, one by one. being hurled to their doom, and not knowing if it was going to be our turn next. We were lying at an outer anchorage, about a mile from shore, so that none of the ships drifting out of control endangered us. Only those who have experienced a cyclone can have any idea what one is like That cyclone had a centre of five hundred miles, and the sea was running about four hundred yards up the beach. The Sole Survivors.

•^ Vh t n the mainmast went over the side the heel jumped up, and jammed the starboard chain in the chain locker. The chain parted, leaving us riding with but one anchor. Then I thought that presently we also should be but a toy thing for the cyclone. Our first anchor was paid out to 150 fathoms of cable. However, Fortune favoured us through all our trials, and with a little barque called the Bonnie Dundee, the Evelyn was the onlyship to ride out the cyclone, out of a fleet of thirty-two vessels.

The Gallant Fusiliers. A total of 185 white sailors were drowned, some of them while being dragged through the surf on the lifelines. The Gosforth had such a heavy death roll owing to the fact that as ail her masts had been carried away there was no place high enough from which to send a rocket ashore. The Fusilier Regiment was stationed in Madras at the time, and many of the soldiers dashed into the surf in an endeavour to rescue the sailormen who were being washed ashore. Many of these brave soldiers met a fate from which they were endeavouring to sa\*e other unfortunates. Ashore also, a great deal of damage had been done. A big native hospital in Madras collapsed, the roof falling down on top of the patients, nearly 300 of whom were killed. The cyclone was regarded as the worst ever experienced in Madras.

The White Feather. A singular thing I must tell you, and that concerns two giants of men, who showed the white feather on board ship during the height of the cyclone. One was our bos’tin, who could easilv pick up a man in one hand and hurl him along the deck. He was so stricken with fear that the first mate found him absolutely useless, and that was why I was hauled out of a sick lied to go on duty on deck. The other was a first mate, who wore the only life jacket on the ship—it belonged to the can tain.

who was ashore—and gave orders to the crew while wearing his protector. This so angered the second mate that he told him to take the jacket off, and show a better example to the men. In those days there were no regulations concerning the compulsory carrying of life-belts sufficient in number for crew and passengers. When the cyclone had died away our captain came off in one of the surf boats, and it was most amusing to us when he sang out to throw him a line. We had to inform him that there wasn’t a sound rope aboard ship. They had all beer, frayed to tatters during the storm and stress of the cyclone.

On the Way to Bombay. As I was still buffering from Mauritius fever, I, with eight of the crew, was sent to hospital ashore. The captain visited us when the ship had been refitted, and asked if we were prepared to go oil with the ship to Calcutta, or take our discharges. With one of the men I accepted the discharge. On leaving hospital, as there was no chance of getting a ship in Madras, we bought tickets to go by train to Bombay. 11l never forget that trip. We left Madras on Saturday afternoon, and reached Bombay on the following Tuesday. fortunately we had a compartment to ourselves away from the coolies. But the seats were hard, with not' a cushion on which, to lay one’s head. Now and again in that dreary journey we would run into hot whirlwinds, with clouds of sand, and as these approached the engine-driver would blow the whistle in order to warn us to put up the shutters in the carriages, which, I may say, were something like cattle trucks.’ The only pleasant item about that trip consisted of our purchases of butter-milk, at some of the stations, from the coolies. A quart of this refreshment cost one pie, a coin of the value :of about half a farthing. The Bos’ub’s Fate.

In Bombay I heard further of our white-livered bosun. When the Evelyn arrived at Calcutta he had a row with the skipper, and left the ship. He joined another vessel, which foundered m a gale in the Bay of Bengal. The crew constructed rafts on which they drifted for several days. As they gradually became almost maddened by thirst,.our old bos'un was the first one to start drinking salt water, ultimately jumping overboard.

Hu Mother’s Vision.. There is one little incident which I must relate to.you. It was told to me by my sister, and concerns my old mother, who was a Scottish woman During the time that the cyclone was raging my mother told my sister, whether it was in a dream or not, that she had distinctly seen me and that I was surrounded by a lot of shipwrecks. Probably one of those cases of second sight which you sometimes hear about. In Bombay my mate and I stayed at the Sailors’ Home for a fortnight, and then signed on an American-built ship, the Red Cross, bound for Manila. (To be continued).

WRECK OF S.S. OTAGO. To tho Editor. Sir, —The very fine photograph of the wreck of the s.s. Otago appearing in your last Saturday’s issue interested me considerably. Many times have I travelled across to Australia in the early seventies by this beautiful steamer. Of course shp was a very small boat as compared with our intercolonial liners of to-day, but I am certain there is not a prettier model sailing round our coasts at the present time. What with her yacht-like lines, clipper bows, figurehead and short bowsprit, her painted ports, black body and red underwater, two white funnels, and with sails set on her three masts, with a slight list in a favouring breeze, a finer sight than, the eld favourite s.s. Otago could not be imagined. When she came to grief at Chasland’s Mistake many who had been in the habit of voyaging by this popular steamer were really sorry.—l am,. etc., J. C. RICHARDSON. Kaiapoi.

SAILED ON THE TEA CLIPPERS. The death has occurred of Mr Hadden Dennison, whose residence in Oamaru dates back to 1878. Mr Dennison was born in 1847 at sea, and he followed the sea on one of his father’s tea clippers in the China trade. As an apprentice, he was on the Tae Ping when that vessel took part in one of the most noted races of the clipper era, other ships taking part being the Serica, the Fiery Cross, the Ariel and another. The voyage from Shanghai to London took ninety-nine days, the Ariel, which left Shanghai at the same time, beating the Tae Ping by only ten minutes. Mr Dennison had many other interesting experiences at sea and, after gaining his master’s certificate, commanded several ships before, at the age of thirty, failing eyesight compelled him to give up his adopted profession. He then came to New Zealand, and was purser of the Wild Deer, which was under the command of the late Captain Ramsay. In Dunedin, Mr Dennison later devoted himself to journalism, and was on the staff of the “Morning Herald” and the “Otago Daily Times.” He came to Oamaru in 1878, and was associated \tfith his cousin, Mr T. C. Dennison, in the construction of the Kurow and Ngapara railway lines. Afterwards he became a land and estate agent, and, despite the almost total loss of his e>esight, conducted that business until a week or two ago. ITe was for some ; years a member of the Oamaru liar-' hour Board and of the Licensing Committee, but it was as local secretary of the Navy League that he was best known in Oamaru. In that capacity he j inspired a great deal of interest in the , League and gained for it many ad- . herents. Mr Dennison is survived by ! Mrs Dennison, two sons and five daugh- j ters.