GREAT SEAMAN RETIRES

Wanganui Chronicle, Volume 74, Issue 139, 15 June 1931, Page 3

GREAT SEAMAN RETIRES

“AT ANCHOR” IN GARDEN. CAPTAIN OF BERENGARIA. FROAI BRIDGE TO DAFFODILS. A man stood on the bridge of the third largest liner in the world. A law that has not its equal in any part of the world was his to enforce. A thousand men or more—seaman, steward, purser, officer, and engineer alike—were at his beck and call. He had almost the power of life and death over them. Ho was captain of the Cunarder Bcrcngaria. That was a few weeks ago. The other day a man stood in the charming garden of a house delightfully poised on a hill, overlooking the town of Southampton, says the Daily Express. He looked proudly on an array of daffodils and tulips, of budding fruit trees and newly-planted fruit bushes. He spoke sincerely and honestly of the philosophy of life, of the world of to-day, of yesterdnv, and of to-morrow. Ho was the former captain of the Bcrcngaria. Who would believe that those two wore Iho same man, tho commander of one of the most famous ships in the world, and formerly of sixteen other vessels, tho man who has earned the name of “Drake of the Atlantic.” and tho amateur gardener-philosopher?

But they were—Sir Arthur Rostron, who retired at the end of April from tho position of Commodore of tho Cu’nard Fleet. lie has finished with the sea. 110 may make another voyage in his old ship—as a passenger—but he has put Ihe sea behind him from a professional point of view. He ha”, as he would probably express it, “anchored” at Wt. He can hardly realise that the man who stood on the bridge of the Bcrcngaria was over him self. ITo is going to spend tho rest of his days among his family, making his life a busy one in his beloved garden. Tho garden is Sir Arthur’s favourite place when Hie sea is not within reach. A garden is the only place, ho thinks, that is like the sea. Ono gets near to nature when in tho garden, and one gels near to nature when at sea, and nature is a thing that every true man of the sea honours and respects. That is how Sir Arthur Rostron, the perfect captain and tho perfect host, wishes to spend the autumn of his life. It is a strange contrast to his former life, when prinves of kingdoms and princes of commerce could not help feeling proud to enter his sanctum; when his brain controlled the destinies of a liner worth between four and five millions, when tho capital represented by the two or three thousand passengers on board, who had placed their safety in his hands, was usually in the neighbourhood of £400,000,000. Sir Arthur is happy, because he knows, without thinking about it, that ho has done his duty, that he has brought that £4,000,000 ship time and again safely back to port, that he has always cared well and truly for the passen go rs ent rust e d 1o him,