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Title: Wooden Ships and Iron Men
Date of first publication: 1924
Author: Frederick William Wallace (1886-1958)
Date first posted: April 16, 2024
Date last updated: April 16, 2024
Faded Page eBook #20240407
This eBook was produced by: John Routh & the online Distributed Proofreaders Canada team at https://www.pgdpcanada.net
WOODEN SHIPS AND IRON MEN
Frederick William Wallace
The story of the square-rigged merchant marine of
British North America, the ships, their builders and
owners, and the men who sailed in them.
Copyright © Frederick William Wallace, 1924
First published in the United Kingdom by
Hodder and Stoughton, 1924
Printed in Great Britain by
Biddles Ltd., Guildford, Surrey,
for White Lion Publishers,
138 Park Lane, London W1Y 3DD
TO
JAMES JOHN HARPELL
WITH WHOM THE AUTHOR WAS ASSOCIATED
FOR MANY YEARS
AND TO WHOM HE IS INDEBTED FOR
MUCH ENCOURAGEMENT AND
HELPFUL INTEREST
The compilation of this record was undertaken as a labour of love and to save from oblivion the facts regarding an era of maritime effort and industry which is one of the most inspiring pages in Canadian history, but which, unfortunately, has not yet been adequately appreciated. The gathering of the information presented in the following pages has been carried out under many handicaps. To be really comprehensive, it should have been written forty years ago, when the wooden-hulled windjammers and the intrepid native seamen who commanded them were still in existence, though in the state of dissolution. Two decades have elapsed since the last of the big square-rigged ships was launched, and these twenty years have seen the passing away of the ships, the builders, and the seamen.
I have been collecting information on the subject for many years. But owing to the fact that first-hand sources of information were rapidly vanishing, I have hastened the task of compilation in the hope that the publication of this record might result in an effort being made by public bodies to preserve whatever remains to-day of interest and value in connection with the old-time shipping of the Maritime Provinces of Canada. Great Britain and the United States have individuals and societies who have seen to it that all records pertaining to the shipping history of their respective nations are collected and carefully preserved. In Canada, unfortunately, other interests have overshadowed the necessity for recording past glories, and that in spite of the fact that one of her ablest men, Joseph Howe, once said: “A wise nation preserves its records, gathers up its muniments, decorates the graves of its illustrious dead, repairs the great public structures, and fosters national pride and love of country by perpetual references to the sacrifices and glories of the past.” And Nova Scotia’s great statesman spoke thus to his fellow citizens at a time when the Province was entering the golden years of its maritime greatness, when Nova Scotian ships were sailing every ocean and Nova Scotian seamen were regarded as the most capable of their profession. The men who built, owned, and sailed the splendid British North American ships of the ’sixties, ’seventies and ’eighties have mostly all passed on to meet the Great Pilot. With their passing went much valuable maritime history, and the same has been irretrievably lost.
Without detracting from the work they have done, but rather as an apology for my own shortcomings, I might say that the compilers of shipping histories in Great Britain and the United States have had a much more satisfactory field of research. To these writers, great masses of authentic and carefully recorded information were available. In the Maritime Provinces of Canada, I found a singular scarcity of definite data regarding the days of the wooden ships. Few records were kept, and in many cases such records were destroyed, as so much of value in Canadian history has been destroyed, through storage in wooden buildings afterwards consumed by fire.
In this volume, I have made use of every scrap of information that has come to me. Little has been rejected, as almost every item will be of some value, possibly, to future historians. Some of the facts were obtained from my father and other seamen who sailed as masters, officers, and before the mast in British North American ships, as well as from ship-builders, owners, and persons who lived during the palmy days of sailing ships. The value of these verbally-imparted data cannot be over-estimated, especially in a country where written and printed records are scarce. But where memory is the source of information, error is prone to creep in. It is quite possible that errors have occurred in this record, but I am hopeful that this volume will constitute a basis for future research workers in the field, and they will have an opportunity of correcting my mistakes as well as of throwing still more light upon the material contained herein.
I am indebted to many friends for assistance and information in the writing of this history, and, as space prevents my naming them all, I hereby gratefully acknowledge their co-operation. I must, however, acknowledge the courtesy and assistance of the following persons and institutions: Lloyd’s Registry of Shipping, New York; The American Bureau of Shipping, New York; New York Maritime Register; Major A. G. Doughty, Canadian Archives, Ottawa; Mr. Harry Piers, Provincial Museum, Halifax; Mr. R. E. Armstrong, St. John Board of Trade, St. John; Mr. Fred. G. Layton, Wellington, N.Z.; and the Hon Frank Carrel, Quebec. Much information was gathered from researches among the volumes and manuscripts in the Public, Legislative, and University libraries of Montreal, Ottawa, St. John, Halifax, New York, Boston, Baltimore, and other cities, and I would also acknowledge making free use of the data gathered by Mr. J. Murray Lawson of Yarmouth, N.S., in his books on Yarmouth Shipping, and those pertaining to Canadian-built vessels in Mr. Basil Lubbock’s volume on the Colonial Clippers. And last, but not least, I would record my appreciation of the assistance given me by my wife, Ethel T. Wallace, in selecting and filing hundreds of cards containing particulars of the vessels built in Canada during the period covered by this history. Without her help, the compilation would have been laboriously prolonged.
In conclusion, I might add that there has been no attempt made in this book to embody literary style or to simplify or explain nautical terms and shipping technicalities for the benefit of the uninitiated. When miles are mentioned, it is the nautical mile of 6,080 feet, and not the land, or statute, mile of 5,280 feet.
Frederick William Wallace.
c/o Canadian Club,
New York City.
CONTENTS | |
Foreword | |
CHAPTER I | |
The Dawn of British North American Shipping | |
The “Bluenose”—An Unrecorded Era of Maritime Effort—North American Forests Bred Ships—Beginnings of Ship-building in Canada—Early New Brunswick Ship-building—Beginnings of Ship-building in Nova Scotia—Ship-building in Canada from 1800-1840—Ship-building at Quebec, 1800-1840—The Great Ships Columbus and Baron of Renfrew—The Ship United Kingdom—Quebec Builds First Ocean Steamship—Nova Scotia Shipping, 1800-1840—Shipping and Ship-building in New Brunswick, 1800-1840—Models and Plans—Constructing a Wooden Ship—Ship Timber—Fastenings—Sheathing—Ironwork and Fittings—Early Ship-owners—Ships and Ship-building in the ’Forties—Longevity of a Quebec Ship—The Days of ’49—Canadians in the California Gold Rush—Quebec to California on the Panama—Nova Scotians to the Sacramento | |
CHAPTER II | |
The Boom Days of the ’Fifties | |
The ’Fifties—An Era of Famous Ships—The Australian Gold Rush—The Famous Marco Polo—Marco Polo’s First Voyage—The Marco Polo’s Master—Marco Polo’s Second and Later Voyages—Other New Brunswick Ships of 1851—1851, a Big Year in Quebec—Nova Scotia builds Big Ships—Prince Edward Island Ships in 1851—Australian Gold aids Canadian Ship-builders, 1852—Yarmouth Schooner sails for Australia—The Big Boom Year of 1853—The Star of the East—St. John Clippers of 1853—Quebec Clippers of 1853—Nova Scotia and Prince Edward Island, 1853—The Clippers of 1854—The Big White Star—The Shalimar and Morning Star—St. John and all New Brunswick Ports Building Ships—Quebeckers of ’54—Nova Scotiamen of ’54—The Clipper Barque Stag—Prince Edward Island Vessels of ’54—The Slump of 1855—The Monster Morning Light—The Wrights—St. John’s Master Ship-builders—New Brunswick Ships of 1855—Quebec and Nova Scotia Ships of 1855—Square-riggers Built on Lakes—Nova Scotia Emigrants to New Zealand—The Year 1856—The Year 1857—Quebec still Leads in 1858—Ship-building at a Low Ebb in 1859—Quebec-built Ship Features in Australian Salvage Case—Nova Scotia Builds Ships and Operates Them | |
CHAPTER III | |
The ’Sixties in Quebec and New Brunswick Shipping | |
The Ship-builders of Quebec—John Munn—Allan Gilmour—G. H. Parke—H. N. Jones—Pierre Valin—J. E. Gingras—P. Brunelle—Heavy Commissions Absorbed Profits—Baldwin and Dinning—G. T. Davie—Other Quebec Builders—James Gibb Ross—Quebec Ship-building in the ’Sixties—Baldwin’s “Empires”—Large Quebeckers of the ’Sixties—Henry Fry of Quebec—Great Timber Trade of Quebec—Quebec Boatmen—Stowing Square Timber—Crimping in Quebec—Two Trips Average Quebec Season—New Brunswick Ships of the ’Sixties—St. John Builders of the ’Sixties and some of their Ships—Thomas Hilyard and his Ships—James Nevins—The Olives—Francis and Joseph Ruddock—John S. Parker—John Fisher—Other Builders of the ’Sixties and their Ships—Large St. John-built Ships of the ’Sixties—Barque Minnehaha—A Well-built Vessel—Ship-owning in New Brunswick—St. John Ship-owners of the ’Sixties—Ship-building Elsewhere in New Brunswick in the ’Sixties | |
CHAPTER IV | |
The ’Sixties in Nova Scotia—A Period of Expansion | |
Nova Scotia Ships, Builders and Owners of the ’Sixties—Yarmouth Fleet of the ’Sixties—Builders of Yarmouth Ships—The Yarmouth Ship Research—The Voyage of Many Rudders—Large Yarmouth Ships of the ’Sixties—The Yarmouth Ship Speculator, a Smart Sailer—Further Voyages of Speculator—Voyages of Yarmouth Ships in the ’Sixties—Quick Voyage of Yarmouth Brig—Yarmouth Marine Insurance Companies—William Law of Yarmouth—“Up the Bay” in the ’Sixties—Bennett Smith of Windsor—Other Windsor Ships of the ’Sixties—The Churchills of Hantsport—The Quebec’s Last Voyage—The Maitland Ships—Lawrence’s Pegasus—Maitland Ships for Halifax Owners—Cornwallis Vessels and Builders—Newport in the ’Sixties—Horton, Parrsboro, and other Head of the Bay Ports—In the Annapolis Basin—Weymouth Ship-building—Around the South-east Shore—Ella Moore, a Quick-Stepper—Pictou County Activities—Captain George McKenzie—Carmichael’s Ships—River John, a Famous Ship-building Centre—James Kitchin, River John—Tatamagouche Ship-building—Pugwash Ships—The City of Halifax—Lake Vessel goes Deep-water | |
CHAPTER V | |
The Bluenose Fashion | |
The B.N.A. Ships, their Equipment, Personnel and Distinctive Characteristics—The Ships, their Rigs and Equipment—The Hull and Accommodations—The Personnel—The Master—The Bluenose Mate—The Second Mate—Boatswain, Carpenter and Sail-maker—The Cook—The Steward—The Crews—Juggling Crews in Rio—Hard Work the Order of the Day | |
CHAPTER VI | |
The Nova Scotiamen of the Palmy ’Seventies | |
The ’Seventies—Great Days for B.N.A. Ships—The Nova Scotiamen of the ’Seventies—The Mutiny on the Ship Lennie—Nova Scotia Ships of 1872—The Speedy Barque J. F. Whitney—The Piskataqua’s Record Trip—Nova Scotiamen of 1873—Loss of the Yarmouth Ship Regina—The Big Year of 1874—Ship Wm. D. Lawrence, Largest Canadian-built Square-rigger—Driving the Wm. D. Lawrence—Maitland and Vicinity in 1874—Yarmouth Ships of 1874—The Loss of the N. W. Blethen—Captain Henry Lewis of Yarmouth—Annapolis Ships—Shelburne and Vicinity—Pictou County Ships of 1874—Nova Scotia Ships of 1875—Yarmouth Craft—A Negro Ship-Master—Racing between the St. Bernard’s and the Bonanza—The Speedy Hectanooga—Up the Bay Ships of 1875—Pictou County Craft of 1875—Nova Scotia Brig’s Good Australian Passage—Noteworthy Nova Scotia Craft of 1876—The Yarmouth Ships—Up the Bay Ships of 1876—Other Nova Scotian Vessels of 1876—The Year 1877 in Nova Scotia—Yarmouth Vessels—The Tollington’s Fast Trip—Windsor and Head of the Bay, 1877—Amherst Barque’s Good Trip—Maitland Barque’s Fast Passage—Sultana’s Fast Maiden Voyage—Elsewhere in Nova Scotia, 1877—Yarmouth Ships of 1878—The Ship Everest and her Record Passage—Other Nova Scotiamen of 1878—Gassed!—A Year of Low Freights, 1879—Yarmouth Ships in 1879, a Year of Disasters—New Yarmouth Tonnage in 1879—The William Law’s Good Passage—Maitland Ships of 1879—The Servia—Hantsport, Windsor and Newport Craft of 1879—The Windsor Clipper Athlon—The Ship Sovereign of Londonderry, N.S.—The Pictou Barque Ameer, a Fast Sailer—The End of the ’Seventies in Nova Scotia | |
CHAPTER VII | |
The ’Seventies in New Brunswick Shipping | |
New Brunswick Shipping in the ’Seventies—The Ships of 1870—St. John Activities—Elsewhere in New Brunswick, 1870—New Brunswick Ships of 1871-1872, a Good Year—St. John Craft—Fast Packets Built in 1872—Other Vessels of 1872—Loss of St. John Barque James W. Elwell—A Woman’s Pluck and Endurance—A Year of Big Ships, 1873—New Brunswick Shipping of 1874—Noteworthy Ships of 1874—The Year 1875 in New Brunswick—David Lynch, a Noted St. John Ship-builder—New Brunswick Ships of 1875—The Year 1876 in New Brunswick—The Alexander Yeats—The Ships of 1877—The Barque Cedar Croft—The Clipper Stormy Petrel—New Brunswick Shipping of 1878—Captain John McLeod, Black River—St. John Barque Cyprus and Captain Raymond Parker—The New Brunswickers of 1879—The Norwood and J. V. Troop, Good Sailers—The Egeria’s Fast Passages—Brig Laura B.’s Quick Trip—The ’Seventies in New Brunswick | |
CHAPTER VIII | |
The ’Seventies in Quebec, Prince Edward Island and the Lakes | |
The Quebeckers of the ’Seventies—Quebec Ships of 1871, a Disastrous Year in the Gulf—Quebec Ship-building in 1872—Quebeckers of 1873—The Clydesdale—The Year 1874 in Quebec Shipping—From 1875 to 1879 in Quebec—Captain Joseph Bernier, a Passage-maker—Ship Cosmo, Finest Ever Built in Quebec—Prince Edward Island Shipping of the ’Seventies—The Clipper Gondolier—P.E.I. Vessels of the ’Seventies—Building Square-riggers on the Great Lakes—Ship-building in the ’Eighties | |
CHAPTER IX | |
The ’Eighties in Nova Scotia Shipping | |
Ship-building in the ’Eighties—The Nova Scotiamen of the ’Eighties—The Yarmouth Craft of 1880—Windsor and Head of the Bay Shipping, 1880—The Speedy E. J. Spicer of Parrsboro’—The Murder of the Spicer’s Mate—The Pictou Ships of 1880—Yarmouth Ships of 1881—Windsor and Vicinity in 1881—The Scotland’s Fast Passages—Pictou Ships of 1881—Yarmouth Shipping of 1882—Up the Bay Shipping of 1882—Elsewhere in Nova Scotia, 1882—Yarmouth Ships of 1883—Around Windsor, 1883—Other Nova Scotia Craft of 1883—Yarmouth Shipping, 1884—The County of Yarmouth—Windsor and Vicinity in 1884—River John’s Big Ships—The Warrior—Hot Times on the Warrior—The Beginning of the End, 1885—Yarmouth goes in for Iron—Head of the Bay Shipping in 1885—The Charles S. Whitney—The John M. Blaikie—First Four-mast Barque—The Year 1886 in Nova Scotia—Yellow Jack gets many Bluenose Seamen—Hamburg of Windsor, Largest Canadian-built Barque—Nova Scotia Ships of 1887—Ship George T. Hay of Parrsboro’—Nova Scotia Shipping from 1888 to 1889—The Four-mast Barquentine Canadian | |
CHAPTER X | |
The ’Eighties in New Brunswick, Quebec and Prince Edward Island | |
The ’Eighties in New Brunswick—N.B. Ships of 1881—Ships of 1882—The Honolulu’s Good Passages—New Brunswickers of 1883—St. John Barque Highlands—Barque L. H. De Veber’s Record—Other New Brunswick Vessels of the ’Eighties—New Brunswick Ship-building from 1825 to 1888—The ’Eighties in Quebec Ship-building—Quebec Ships from 1880 to 1887—Quebec owns Old British China Clipper Wylo—Last Full-rigged Ship Built in Quebec—Fast Passages by Quebec Ships—Prince Edward Island Ships of the ’Eighties | |
CHAPTER XI | |
The Last of the Bluenose Ships | |
The Last Stand in Nova Scotia—Square-riggers of the ’Nineties—The Four-mast Barque King’s County—Yarmouth Vessels of 1890—Barque Calburga of Maitland—Other Craft of 1890—Nova Scotiamen of 1891—The Big Ship Canada—The Parrsboro’ Ship Glooscap—Other Craft of 1891 in Nova Scotia—The Last of the Bluenose Ships—The End of Square-riggers in New Brunswick—Quebec Ends her Story—The Passing of a Great Era of Ships and Sailormen | |
APPENDIX | |
The Arrival of the Columbus in London—Had a Tempestuous Voyage—Oddly named Vessels—The Ship Beejapore—The Australian Packet Ship Eagle—Henry Eckford and Donald McKay, formerly Canadians—Rev. Norman McLeod and the Barque Margaret—The Bluenose Passion for Paint |
. . . A breed of seamen; master builders
Skilled with axe and saw—
Creators of tall ships which spun
A web of courses ’round the world.
Out from quiet harbours, from towns
Embosomed by the forests, laved by the tides,
They spread their sails to every breeze—
Steered their splendid ships, north, south, east and west,
And brought great glory to the sea-girt coasts that reared them.
A grey day in high Southern latitudes, with the sunlight veiled by slaty clouds, reveals the sea rolling in huge cresting undulations to the urge of a bitter wind. Snugged down to four topsails, braced sharp up, with canvas distended iron hard and full to the pressure of the breeze and with running gear blown off in great bights to leeward of her swinging masts, a rusty-hulled iron barque with “Liverpool” on her stern is plunging and rolling to the westward with chill water cascading over her decks and sluicing out through scupper-hole and clanking wash-port.
The seas south of fifty are lonely waters. The mate of the Liverpool barque scanned the wide horizon with eyes watering in the nip of the chill wind and his roving glance was arrested by the sight of a pearly gleam of white sail showing against the black murk to windward, where night was receding before the pale dawn. Brightening at the sight of another craft in these desolate wastes of ocean, the officer scans the stranger through binoculars and remarks to his captain: “An American, I think, sir, and coming along fast. He’ll pass us pretty close, I’m thinking——”
The other senses the thought in his mind. “Aye . . . get out the flags. We’ll ask him to report us.”
Within half an hour, with the squalls of wind hounding her along, the stranger came storming up out of the west into plain sight. She was a big ship—a wooden three-master, black-hulled, heavily sparred, and deep-laden—and she was forging through the long green seas with yards almost square and royals and cross-jack furled. The white welter under her bows told of the speed of her onslaught through the water, and the great arcs into which the foot of her bellying sails were curved betrayed the tremendous urge of the wind in their woven fabrics. She rolled steadily, revealing her coppered under-body in a wet gleam of verdigrised green one moment, and, when she listed to port, her white-painted stanchions and rails, scrubbed decks, and a poop largely filled by huge cabin houses.
A man was scrambling up her main-rigging. The watchers saw him gain the royal yard and run along the foot-ropes of the spar. Loosened canvas bellied forth as he cast the confining gaskets off, and while the sailor clambered up to the eyes of the rigging to overhaul the gear the yard was hoisted and the sail sheeted home and set in a manner which savoured of the smartness of a man-o’-war. This exhibition of sail-carrying in a heavy breeze, the well-set and well-trimmed sails and yards, the faultlessly stayed masts, and generally spotless appearance of the big ship evoked two kinds of comment from the Liverpool vessel’s personnel. The master and mate murmured admiration: “A down-east Yankee, sure enough. They put the crews through their paces on those packets.” The men in the Britisher’s fo’c’sle voiced other opinions: “A damned nigger-drivin’ Yankee where they works the soul-case out of the hands and lets you rest when you’re dead.”
A ball of bunting went up to the stranger’s monkey-gaff. A jerk on the flag halliard broke the spun-yarn stop, and, instead of the Stars and Stripes, the red ensign of the British Mercantile Marine flew snapping in the breeze. “She’s an English ship!” piped an apprentice-boy on his first voyage. A sour-visaged Aberdeen carpenter favoured him with a commiserating glance and growled: “English ship? A lot you know about it. She’s a Bluenose.”
Up on the poop, an old shell-back handing code flags was staring pridefully at the big vessel roaring past them. “I know that ship, sir,” he vouchsafed to master and mate. “I sailed in her one time. She’s a Nova Scotiaman—the W. D. Lawrence of Maitland . . . twenty-four hunder’ an’ fifty tons register. A splendid vessel, sir, and the biggest built in Nova Scotia.”
The captain nodded. “Hard packets—these Bluenose ships. Worse than the Yankees, they say.”
The sailor replied somewhat hesitatingly: “Well, sir, they have that name, but for a man what is a sailor an’ knows his book there’s nothin’ better nor a Bluenose to sail aboard of. For bums, hoboes, an’ sojers, sir, they’re a floatin’ hell. They stand for no shenanigans aboard them packets, sir. One bit o’ slack lip or a black look an’ the mates ’ll have ye knocked stiff an’ lookin’ forty ways for Sunday. They works ye hard, but they feeds you good and treats you good if you does yer work.”
Flags snapped from the gaffs of the two ships; messages were exchanged, and when the answering pennant went up on the Nova Scotiaman’s flag halliards, the English captain said: “Alright! He’s got our hoist. Haul it down and put it away.”
A squall of snow blotted out the horizon and the other ship vanished in the whirl of it. When it lifted, she was a black speck in the yellow aura of the sunrise running down her Easting for the Horn and the South Atlantic. “There she goes,” observed the old shell-back who had served in her; “a ramping, stamping, hard-driving Bluenose—wooden ships with iron men commanding them.”
This was in the middle ’seventies, when the Maritime Provinces of Canada built, owned, and operated a mighty fleet of merchant sailing ships. In 1878, Canada ranked fourth among the ship-owning countries of the world with a flotilla of 7196 vessels aggregating 1,333,015 tons. They were wooden ships and driven by sail, but during the half-century between 1840 and 1890—the era of the British North American “windjammers”—they captured a huge share of the world’s carrying trade and built up a reputation for smart ships and native-born seamen that was a legend in nautical history and fo’c’sle story for many years. Like the great ship in the incident which opens this account, a little company of ship-builders and sailors resident on the shores of the Atlantic coasts of Canada created a mercantile marine which burst into ocean commerce, made history and drew the admiration of seamen, and thence vanished utterly into the mists of oblivion.
It was during the nineteenth century that the sailing ship attained its highest development in the hands of the English-speaking nations. Steam, as a means of propulsion, eventually swept the sailing ship into the discard as a prime factor in ocean carriage, but it was the early rivalry of steam which brought the wind-driven ship to the apex of perfection in design and brought out in masters and officers a degree of skill and daring in seamanship which has never been exceeded. The records of the ships and seamen engaged in the trade of the Honourable East India Company; the famous American clipper ships and their record passages to California and in the China trade; the British tea clippers and Australiamen, have all had their historians who have set down the particulars of the ships, their builders, owners, masters, and passages in the most painstaking fashion, and with a degree of accuracy which leaves no doubt as to the authenticity of any recorded statement.
The student of nautical history and the man, excited by the legends of ancient sailormen, who desires to acquaint himself with the days of the American clippers or the various romantic trades in which the sailing ships of Great Britain featured, has a sufficiency of data to enable him to satiate his mental hunger, but of those other famous packets—the Bluenose ships—and the wonderfully capable sailormen who sailed them, to say nothing of builders and owners, practically nothing has been recorded.
At the present time, Canadians know but little about the brave days of wooden ships in which their country cut such a swath in ocean commerce. Even in the very places where the ships were built, the inhabitants have but a vague knowledge of the great shipping era which practically established the city or town in which they reside. Fourth place among the ship-owning nations, building famous vessels and breeding a class of daring and resourceful seamen who are still a legend among seafarers in British and foreign ships, the Maritime Provinces of Canada seem to have forgotten a part of their history of which they should be inordinately proud.
Perhaps circumstances are to blame. Though built in Canada, a vast number of the vessels were sold after construction. Those that were owned and operated by Canadians seldom returned to their home ports, but traded wherever a cargo was to be picked up and transported. The United States had her California clippers plying out of, and into, her own ports east and west; similarly, Great Britain’s ports berthed her Indiamen, her China, and Australian clipper ships loading or discharging. Americans and Britishers saw their ships in their comings and goings. The persons interested in British North American ships viewed them only in their home ports when outward bound after launching, and heard of them afterwards only by letter, cable, or brief notices in obscure newspapers.
The vast timber areas of the British Colonies in North America were directly responsible for the huge fleet of sailing ships constructed there. Timber in various forms and dried fish constituted the principal export trade of the early colonists. With such abundance of wood right at the water’s edge, ship-building came natural to the settlers, who were forced to find their markets in the United States, the West Indies, and Great Britain. Money was scarce, and they could not afford to purchase vessels to transport their products, but conditions of living along the North American coasts developed a type of inhabitant who was handy with axe, adze, and saw; who was something of a sailor, a blacksmith, and general labourer. Wood was to be had for the cutting of it, and labour was cheap, so they built their own ships, loaded them with home products, and sailed them themselves to a market.
They were small craft, these early North American merchantmen, and rudely constructed, but it speaks well for the courage of these pioneers that they took the hazards of venturing forth across long leagues of stormy seas in their shallops, pinks, and schooners. Hostile Indians, the primeval forests, and a rigorous winter climate kept the settlers close to the coast. The sea was their highway of travel; from its depths they gained a substantial part of their livelihood in the fish they caught; it was ever before their eyes, and the roar of the surf rang in their ears; across it lay their markets and communication with the civilised world—these were the circumstances which helped to evolve the natural born ship-builder and seamen who made the Atlantic coast of British North America famous in the days of sail propulsion in wooden ships.
The forests provided the material for the ship and the major part of the cargo also. Woods of the coniferous trees such as spruce and pine were superabundant, and it was of this timber that most of the British North American ships were constructed. Great Britain and the United States built their wooden ships of oak and other hard woods; the Canadian vessels of pine, spruce, and hackmatack were known as “soft-wood” ships.
If it took seamen of the Anglo-Saxon races to sail ships, it took Frenchmen to build them. As ship constructers, the French excelled. During the Napoleonic Wars, the war vessels built by the French were superior in design and construction to those of the British, and the latter were quick to copy French models, especially of the frigate type, which French naval architects developed to a high state of perfection.
The French first colonised the Atlantic coasts of Canada, and history records that the first ships built in New France were two small craft launched at Port Royal (now Annapolis Royal in Nova Scotia) by François Grave in the year 1606. In Quebec, under French domination, a sea-going vessel named the Galiote was built in 1663. In 1666, the Intendant Talon had a vessel of 120 tons built to his orders, and several small craft were constructed up to the year 1672, when a ship of 400 tons burden was built at Anse des Mères.
According to memorials contained in the Documents de Paris, it would appear that ship-building at Quebec was pretty brisk in 1715. The colonists, however, felt that ship construction was retarded owing to the fact that France would not import timber from her North American colonies. In the eyes of the home Government, the fur trade seemed to be the only industry worth encouraging at that time, and they ignored the fact that England was importing mast-wood and ship timber from her New England colonies for the purpose of building war vessels for use against France.
In 1731, however, there was an awakening, and M. de Maurepas, French Minister of Marine, fully realised the importance of encouraging the building of ships in the North American colonies, and he wrote strong despatches to the Governor urging the stimulation of this industry. In his despatches, he stated that ships of war would be built in New France if some good types of merchant vessels were constructed. As an incentive, he offered a premium of 500 francs for every vessel of 200 tons or over built in the colony and sold in France or the Antilles. In 1732, Intendant Hocquart established a large shipyard on the banks of the St. Charles River near Quebec, and, stimulated by the bonus, ten merchant vessels were built during that year.
George Gale, in his Historic Tales of Old Quebec, states: “In 1739, orders were received from the French king to try the experiment of building war vessels. Accordingly, the construction of a corvette of 500 tons was begun, with an engineer named Neree Levasseur acting as contractor or builder for the king. On June 4th, 1742, the first transport for the French Navy, the Canada, was launched here amidst great rejoicing and was sent to Rochefort, France, with a crew of eighty St. Malo men. She was loaded for the voyage with boards, iron, and oil. In the spring of 1744 the Caribou, of 700 tons, carrying 22 guns and a crew of 104 men, left the yard on the St. Charles, and sailed for France in July, followed, in 1745, by the Castor, of 22 guns and 200 men. The Martre, launched in 1747, was the last war vessel to be built on the banks of the St. Charles River, as it was found that the water was not deep enough, even at the highest tides, for the increasing tonnage of war vessels.
“A yard was opened at the Cul de Sac, at the site of the old Champlain market, where the National Transcontinental Railway offices now stand in the Lower Town of Quebec, and the first vessel built there was the St. Laurent, of 60 guns, in 1748. In 1750, the L’Orignal, of 70 guns, followed, but she broke her back on leaving the slip. Timbers from this ship were picked up from the river bottom some years ago. The L’Orignal was followed by the Algonquin in 1753 and the Abenaquis in 1756, the last two being small, lightly-armed corvettes. The frigate Le Quebec was launched in 1757.
“After this, the construction of the bigger war vessels was given up in Quebec—the French naval authorities having found that the Caribou and the St. Laurent did not come up to their expectations, owing to the inferior quality of the wood used in their construction. This was white and red oak, elm, birch, and spruce. The masts were brought from Bay St. Paul, some miles below Quebec, and the Lake Champlain district. The majority of the vessels, especially the war craft, were manned by crews brought out from France, while the foremen carpenters, riggers, block-makers, etc., were also sent out by the French Government in order to instruct the Canadians in the work. The ironwork for the ships was cast at the St. Maurice Forges, located some seven miles from Three Rivers, Quebec, which were opened in 1737. The forges were worked for some years by the French Government, and guns as well as projectiles were cast there.”
After the conquest of Canada by the British in 1759, settlers from the United Kingdom began the construction of ships in Quebec and other places. In 1797, four ships and two brigs were built at Quebec—the largest being the ship Neptune, of 363 tons and 117 feet in length, constructed by Patrick Beatson. In 1799, Beatson built the ship Diamond, of 521 tons, with two decks and 119 feet long. In 1800, he launched the ship Queen, of 429 tons, and the ship Monarch, of 645 tons and 126 feet long. Prior to 1800, John Munn began a notable ship-building career in Quebec, when he launched the brig St. Peter, of 104 tons, in 1798.
Confining ourselves for the nonce to the eighteenth century, we will shift from the St. Lawrence River to New Brunswick. In 1770, James Simonds built a schooner at what is now St. John. Of the building of this pioneer craft, Ven. Archdeacon Raymond states that her keel was laid by Michael Hodge and his assistant, Adonijah Colby, just to the east of Portland Point, and her timbers and planks were cut from the adjoining hill-side. Hodge contracted to build the vessel for twenty-three shillings and fourpence, Massachusetts currency, per ton, and the iron used in her construction was taken out of an old 64-ton sloop. The schooner was named Betsy, and she was launched, rigged, and fitted out, and sailed for Newburyport, Mass., with a cargo on February 3rd, 1770. Jonathan Leavitt sailed in her as master and she was sold in 1771 for £200—her owner expressing himself as being satisfied at the price. Three years later, Jonathan Leavitt and his brother-in-law, Samuel Peabody, built the schooner Menaguashe at the Upper Cove (now the Market Slip, St. John).
William Davidson, a salmon fisherman and a native of Scotland, came to Halifax in 1765 to establish a salmon fishery in Nova Scotia. Later on he went across to New Brunswick and settled on the banks of the Miramichi. In 1773, he built a vessel of 300 tons—the largest thus far constructed in New Brunswick—for the purpose of shipping fish to the Mediterranean. In 1775 he built a vessel of 160 tons which he loaded with his own caught fish, and was en route to Europe when the craft struck on St. John’s Island (now Prince Edward Island) and was lost. This information is contained in a memorial which Davidson addressed to Governor Carleton of New Brunswick.
I find no record of ship-building in New Brunswick under French domination, but there is evidence that they appreciated the value of the timber growing there for ship purposes. In 1700, the 44-gun ship Avenant anchored in St. John harbour and shipped some very fine masts for the French Navy. After the conquest, the British looked to the St. John River valley as a source of supply for masts and spars for the Navy, and a survey was made by a naval timber expert in 1774, who reported that he found “a black spruce fit for yards and topmasts and other timber fit for ship-building.” White pine, 38 inches in diameter and suitable for masts, was plentiful, and there was no lack of smaller timber, capable of being made into lower yards, 110 feet long and 26 inches in diameter. Following his report, the reservation of trees suitable for masts became a Governmental policy and white pine trees were reserved for naval purposes in New Brunswick and Nova Scotia until about 1811.
Coming to Nova Scotia, it is recorded that in 1751 John Gorham built a brig with slave labour at Halifax. In Shelburne, a vessel of 250 tons was built in 1786. In 1763, John Sollows, in Yarmouth, built a shallop of 25 tons which was destined to be the pioneer craft of a splendid fleet of ships built and owned there in later years. But the largest vessel built in Nova Scotia prior to 1800 was the ship Harriet, launched on October 24th, 1798, at Pictou. Of this vessel, Murdoch’s “History” relates that she was built by a Captain Lowden, a native of Scotland, who came to Pictou in 1788. The Harriet was of 600 tons burden and pierced for 24 guns, and was supposed to be the finest ship built up to that time in the Province. Her bottom was composed of oak and black birch timber, and her upper-works, beams, etc., totally of pitch pine. “On account of which mode of construction,” says the record, “she is said to be little inferior in quality to British-built ships, and does peculiar credit, not only to this growing settlement, but to the Province at large.” The Harriet, commanded by Lowden’s son David, and carrying 4 real guns and 20 “quakers,” or wooden imitations, sailed for England to be sold. In those days, it must be remembered, the British were involved in war with France, and the guns on the Harriet were for the purpose of intimidating roving privateers and letters-of-marque.
It is not my intention to set down an intimate record of Canadian ship-building during the forty-year period between 1800 and 1840, as I have found it necessary to confine myself to the most important era beginning with the latter date until the decline of wooden ship-building around 1890. But fully to appreciate the story of Canada’s marine efforts in the days of wooden hulls and square sails, a brief sketch of the builders and the ships constructed in the most important localities must be given adequately to carry the record along.
The shipwrights of Quebec, under the French régime, were the pioneers in the construction of large ships. After the conquest, the French settlers around Quebec City were leavened with Irish, English, and Scotch, many of whom were disbanded British soldiers, and the two nationalities lived and worked together with the utmost harmony. The French-Canadian was an expert worker in wood, and few men of other nationalities could excel him in fashioning timber from the time it was cut down. An axe or an adze in the hands of a French-Canadian could be made to do wonders. With a broad-axe they could square a log of rough timber as true and as smooth as if it had been sawn and planed, and many tales are told of their skill with the adze—one yarn telling of a man who placed his bare foot on a log and, with his adze, shaved a piece of wood from under his sole as thin as a sheet of tissue. It was said that a Quebec ship carpenter could split a playing card edgewise with his adze. Be that as it may, there is no doubt that their skill in fashioning wood was such that they could have built a ship without a piece of metal in her, fastening the timbers and planks together with tree-nails and hard-wood spikes and clever dove-tailing. But such skill, after all, was natural to people raised in a country where timber was superabundant, and from which almost everything had to be made in the pioneer days.
The first prominent ship-builder of the British régime in Quebec appears to be Patrick Beatson, who built the ship Neptune, of 363 tons, in 1797. In 1800, he built the ship Monarch, of 645 tons. This vessel had three masts and two decks and was 126 feet long. John Munn began his famous ship-building career in 1798, when he built the brig St. Peter, of 104 tons. Henry Usborne commenced building in 1804 with the ship Anna Maria, of 348 tons. The famous French-Canadian builder, Hyppolite Dubord, established his yard in 1827, when he launched the brig Bonaparte, of 133 tons. Allan Gilmour began operations in ship construction in 1831 with the ship Wolfe’s Cove, of 587 tons. George H. Parke began his fleet of big ships with the brig William, of 186 tons, in 1835, and in the same year James Jeffery built the ship Calcutta, of 706 tons. Edward Oliver’s first vessel was the barque Premier, of 298 tons, launched in 1838, and Thomas Oliver began building in 1839 with the ship John Bull, of 436 tons. John Nesbit built his first vessel in 1840—the ship Corea, of 734 tons. All these men became prominent in later years and added some splendid examples of ship construction to the Quebec-built fleet.
In 1823, John and Charles Wood, of Port Glasgow, Scotland, naval architects and practical ship-builders, and men of eminent skill in their profession—designers and builders of the Clyde steamboat Comet in 1812—conceived the idea of importing square timber into Great Britain by constructing a solid ship of such timber, sailing her across the Atlantic, and breaking her up on arrival. The main idea behind the scheme was to evade the British Timber Tax on oak and squared pine imported from Canada, and the ships were so designed as to permit of them being constructed as cheaply as possible and in such a manner as to allow of their square timber hulls being taken to pieces without damage to the wood.
Charles Wood came out to Quebec and superintended the construction of the first ship, the Columbus, at Anse du Fort—a spot located at the west end of the Isle of Orleans and about four miles from Quebec City—and on July 28th, 1824, the huge timber drogher was successfully launched. Over five thousand people witnessed the launching from excursion boats and sailing craft, and the band of the 71st Highlanders was in attendance to play the great ship into the water. And she was a great ship for those days, being 301 feet in length, 50·5 feet in beam and 22·5 feet in depth and of 3690 tons. Packed solid with timber and rigged as a four-masted barque, the Columbus, under command of Captain William McKellar, and with Charles Wood aboard, towed down the St. Lawrence in charge of the steamboat Hercules, the only tow-boat on the river then. While towing down to Bic, the Columbus grounded on Bersimis Shoals and some of her timber had to be jettisoned to get her off. The venture proved successful, however, and the ship arrived safely at Blackwall Docks, London. The timber in her holds was discharged, but her owners, against the advice of Wood, demurred against breaking her up just then and sent her across to St. John, New Brunswick, for another timber cargo. On this voyage she foundered, but the crew were saved.[1]
Ere leaving Canada in the Columbus, Wood laid the keel of a still larger ship at Anse du Fort. This was the Baron of Renfrew, 304 feet long, 61 feet beam, and 34 feet deep. She was rigged as a four-masted barque and had five decks with a height of about seven feet between each, and she registered 5294 tons. Other authorities give her tonnage as 5880 tons. The Baron of Renfrew was launched in the summer of 1825, and under the command of Captain Matthew Walker (possibly the originator of the famous knot which bears his name) she sailed for London with her designer and builder aboard and packed with squared timber. She made the English Channel all safe and picked up the pilots and two tow-boats—one of which was the James Watt—but through the stupidity of the pilots she was put aground on the Long Sand Head while in tow. It was evidently blowing hard at the time, as the crew were reported as being “saved through the gallantry of the Dover boatmen.” The Baron of Renfrew ultimately drove ashore near Gravelines on the French coast, and, breaking up, scattered her great timbers on the Channel beaches.
Charles Wood never repeated this experiment, but there is no record that the owners lost money through the scheme. The two ships made the eastbound Atlantic passage successfully, and this fact, no doubt, accounts for the report that insurance on the hulls of both amounting to the immense sum of $5,389,040 was paid on loss.
Both the Columbus and Baron of Renfrew were ships, and not merely rafts. True, they would not have stood many ocean passages had all gone well with them, but they can be accounted as a triumph to the genius of the Scotch designer and the skill of the Quebec shipwrights. It was not until thirty years after, in 1853, that a wooden sailing ship as large as the Quebeckers’ was built in America. This was the clipper ship Great Republic, built by a Nova Scotian of Scotch ancestry, Donald McKay, in his East Boston shipyard. The Great Republic, as originally constructed, was 335 feet in length, 53 feet in beam, and 38 feet deep, with a registered tonnage of 4555 tons. Until she came, Canadians could easily boast of having built the largest wooden sailing ships in the world.
See Appendix for further details of this craft. |
In 1839, John Munn built the ship United Kingdom at his Quebec yard. This vessel registered 1267 tons and was 199 feet in length, 31 feet 9 inches beam, and 22 feet 9 inches in depth. This craft was an orthodox ship and was the largest built in Quebec up to that time, and possibly the largest built prior to 1840 in British North America.
Though this record is confined to wooden sailing ships, yet it may not be amiss to mention here the part played by Quebec ship-builders in steam propulsion of ships. A Canadian-built steam packet began running the St. Lawrence River between Quebec and Montreal in 1809—the Accommodation, constructed in Montreal for John Molson. The steamer Lauzon, built on the St. Charles River by John Goudie in 1817, also ran the river between Quebec and Montreal and for ten years did regular ferry duty between Quebec and Levis.
But Quebec claims the honour of having built the first steamship to cross the Atlantic under her own steam. This was the Royal William, built by John Goudie in Black and Campbell’s shipyard at Cape Cove, Quebec, and launched in April, 1831. Goudie, a young Scotch-Canadian who had learned his trade of naval architect and shipwright in Scotland, had seen steamboats built on the Clyde, and he designed the Royal William as a steamer and not as an auxiliary sailing ship such as was the American vessel Savannah.
Most of the ship-builders in Quebec were shareholders in the vessel, and it was intended to place her on the run between Quebec and Halifax. Her dimensions were: 176 feet overall, 146 feet keel, 44 feet over the paddle-boxes in beam, 17 feet 9 inches depth of hold, and 14 feet draught. She was rigged as a three-mast topsail schooner, and had saloon and accommodation for fifty passengers. Her burden was 363 tons. The engines were constructed by Bennett and Henderson, of Montreal, and developed around 200 horse-power.
The Royal William made three successful trips between Quebec and Halifax and then fell upon hard times. For a spell she did tow-boat and excursion work, and made a run to Boston, being the first steamer to enter an American port under the Union Jack. In 1833, her owners decided to send her to England for sale. Under command of Captain John McDougall, she left Quebec on August 5th, 1833, for Pictou, Nova Scotia. She coaled at the latter port and sailed on August 18th for London. Her Pictou clearance papers read: “Royal William, 363 tons, 36 men, John McDougall, master. Bound to London. British. Cargo: 253 chaldrons of coal, a box of stuffed birds and six spars, produce of this Province. One box and one trunk, household furniture and a harp. All British, and seven passengers.”
One can imagine the importance with which the Pictou Customs officer penned this momentous document. He must have felt that he was granting valediction to an astonishing enterprise, and one can sense his feelings almost in the meticulous care with which the “box of stuffed birds and six spars, produce of this Province,” as well as the harp, were noted down. And no doubt he had a patriotic bent when he penned the line—“All British.” He would be a canny Pictou Scotchman, for a certainty, and the record would be made plain enough to confound disputing claimants as to Transatlantic steamship honours.
The Royal William steamed into dirty weather on the Grand Banks and strained her hull. Her starboard engine was disabled, and she leaked badly. But McDougall was out to get her across, and he started his pumps and kept her heading easterly under the port engine for a week. She finally arrived at Cowes, repaired her boiler there, and docked in London after a passage of twenty-five days from Pictou. Her arrival marked the first Transatlantic passage accomplished under steam alone.
In London, she was sold for £10,000 and was chartered by the Portuguese Government, crew and all. In 1834, she was taken over by the Spaniards, and fought against the Carlists. The Spaniards changed her name to Ysabel Segunda, and in May, 1836, she fired the first shot to come from a steam man-of-war. Spain had her until 1840, when she was taken to Bordeaux for repairs. She was in such poor condition then that she was sold for a hulk to the French and her engines were taken out and placed in a second Ysabel Segunda. This, briefly, is the record of the Royal William, which with the Columbus and Baron of Renfrew can be listed in the annals of early marine history as triumphs on the part of the shipwrights of Quebec.
Ship-building in Nova Scotia prior to 1840 was confined to vessels of much smaller tonnage than those built in Quebec, and schooners, brigs, and brigantines comprised the bulk of the fleet. Yarmouth—a great ship-building and ship-owning centre in later years—was building up her local marine, but her largest vessel in 1840 was the barque Sarah, of 537 tons. In Wilmot, N.S., the ship Acadia, of 763 tons, was launched in 1836, and thirty years later she was recorded as being owned in Liverpool, which speaks well for the manner of her building and the quality of her timber. In Pictou and vicinity, ship-building began around 1825 with small vessels built to sell in England. In 1824, Alexander Campbell built the schooner Elizabeth, of 91 tons, at Tatamagouche, Pictou County. In 1827, he built the brig Devon, of 281 tons, and continued building vessels until he attained the sizable ship Mersey, of 734 tons, in 1837. James Campbell, of Tatamagouche, launched the barque Colchester, of 418 tons, in 1833, which vessel was the largest built there until Alexander Campbell exceeded her in 1835 with a barque of 562 tons, also named Colchester.
River John, Pictou County, began a notable ship-building era around 1835, when the barque Charles, 519 tons, was built by Alexander McKenzie. In the same year, the barques Susan, 537 tons, and George, 526 tons, were constructed by other builders there.
It is recorded that two clipper barques were built around Bridgewater, N.S., during the ’thirties. One was the St. Kilda, known as the “clipper of the fleet” between New York and Valparaiso, Chile, and the other, the Scotia, is alleged to have made a passage from New York to Dunedin, New Zealand, in ninety-eight days. The little ship Jean Hastie, 280 tons, built in Yarmouth, N.S., in 1826, and wrecked there in 1844, was known as one of the fastest vessels in the British Mercantile Marine while she was owned in Scotland. It will thus be seen that Nova Scotian ship-builders turned out some smart little vessels in those days of a construction which proved that not all of the craft built there in the ’thirties were “hard-scrabble” packets cheaply and crudely knocked together for sale in England.
Small brigs were built around Lunenburg and Shelburne in the period under review, and in Liverpool, N.S., in 1826, Snow Parker launched the 400-ton ship Mary Parker. All around the Nova Scotia coast were built numerous sloops, schooners, brigantines, and brigs, but prior to 1840 there were but few vessels launched exceeding 500 tons.
With these small vessels, Nova Scotians were cutting into the deep-sea carrying trade. In addition to coasting down the American shores, Nova Scotian schooners and brigs were engaged in trading to the West Indies and the Brazils. Even longer voyaging was undertaken, and we read in Murdoch’s “History” of the arrival in Halifax during the latter end of June, 1826, of the brig Trusty, Finlay, Master, with a valuable cargo from Calcutta and Madras. The Trusty was absent from her home port a whole year.
It is not generally known that the famous John Company ships occasionally called at Halifax, but a shipping note states that on May 29th, 1826, “the Honourable East India Company’s ship Countess of Harcourt, commanded by Thomas Delafons, Esquire, Captain, Royal Navy, arrived at Halifax from Canton. She left Canton 25th January, and St. Helena, 16th May. Her cargo consisted of 6517 chests of tea consigned to Messrs Cunard & Company.” The latter company, composed of Halifax men, afterwards founded the world-famous Cunard Line.
Ship-building in New Brunswick became an important industry prior to 1840, and some fair-sized square-riggers were launched during the ’thirties. Most of the building was done around St. John and the Bay of Fundy ports, and many builders, destined to become famous in after years, became established before 1840. William and James Olive began building ships in 1822, their first vessel being the barque Caledonia, built for English owners. In 1835, these enterprising shipwrights built the ship Belvidere, and rigged her on the stocks. With royal yards crossed and a crowd of spectators aboard, she was sent down the ways, but as soon as she took the water she capsized and spilled her living freight into the harbour. Fortunately, no one was drowned—“the huge cloaks worn in those days spread themselves out on the water and acted as life-preservers.”
The St. John River empties into the harbour of New Brunswick City, and owing to the unusual rise and fall of the tide in the Bay of Fundy it is only possible to enter or leave the river at high water. At low water, the harbour level is below that of the river mouth, and the latter flows tumbling down in a gigantic waterfall. Thus, during one part of the day, the St. John River is cascading down into the salt water and during very high tides the sea is piling over the river. The place where this occurs lies between two steep, rocky cliffs and is known as the Reversible Falls.
John Clark had a shipyard just above the Falls about where the Suspension Bridge now stands on the Carleton side. History relates of his building a ship called the Recorder there, but during the launching, those responsible for handling the gear to check her progress allowed her to take charge and get away from them. The Recorder barged through the Falls and fetched up on Blind Island. All attempts to get her off ended in failure, and she remained until broken up for junk.
Owens and Duncan established their yard at Portland, St. John, in 1832. In George Thompson’s yard, in 1825, the famous Wright brothers, William and Richard, were serving their time and acquiring the art of ship-building. These two men, destined to attain high eminence in ship construction and ship owning in later years, started their yard in Courtenay Bay, St. John, in 1837, their first vessel being a small whaler and their second the steamboat North America, which was placed on the St. John—Boston route.
Towards the end of the ’thirties, ship-building was in full swing all around New Brunswick, and ships of almost 1000 tons were being built, mostly for the timber trade. In St. John the following builders were established: Francis and Samuel Smith, Francis and Joseph Ruddock, John Haws, James Briggs, John W. Smith, and Richard Lovitt and John Parker. James Moran was building at St. Martins, Henry Partelon at Oromocto, George Marr at Quaco, Benjamin Appleby at Hampton, Justus Wetmore at Kingston, James Swim at St. Martins. Duncan Shaw was an early builder at Sackville, and built two vessels which were captured by American privateers during the war of 1812. Shaw was a Perthshire Scotchman, and had served as a midshipman in the British Navy during the American Revolutionary War.
Up on the Gulf shore of New Brunswick, ship-building was being carried on in the Miramichi District, at Chatham, Newcastle, Shediac, Richibucto and other places. Timber ships most of them were, iron-fastened, and built for sale in Great Britain. When the export of deals began in 1822, these cheaply-built “timber droghers” blew in and out of the Bay of Fundy and the Gulf of St. Lawrence in greater numbers yearly, and British North American-built vessels almost dominated the trade between Great Britain and Eastern Canada by the ’fifties.
Not many Canadian wooden square-riggers were built from naval architect’s blue-prints or plans. A few vessels were constructed to designs sent out by British owners, but most of the designing was done by the foreman in charge of the shipyard, who made a miniature model of the intended vessel, embodying in it the features desired by the owners. The model was usually a half-model of the hull fashioned with drawknife and spokeshave, and it was so constructed as to be taken apart in horizontal layers from which the lines of the vessel could be laid off. Some models were made ⅜ inch to the foot, but they varied. The outside of the model represented the outside of the frame of the vessel, not the outside of the planking. The top edge of the model was the rail. A vessel was usually trimmed a few inches lower in the water aft. A fine “run” was desirable in a vessel’s model, but above that the hull should “swell” strongly, otherwise the craft would “bury” deeply aft. A model which turned out a good vessel in actual service would be used over and over again by merely altering the scale when laying off from it.
In examining the dimensions of B.N.A. vessels, I find that they ran to more beam than British ships, the average being 4·9 beams to length.
After the model was prepared and a suitable place selected and levelled up by the water-side, the keel blocks were laid. The first part of the vessel, the keel, was then placed on the keel blocks. This, the backbone of the ship, was made up of huge timbers “scarphed,” or joined together. The foreman then carefully marked on the keel the location of the stem and stern-post and the various frames or ribs. The shipwrights would be engaged building up the stem and stern-post and also the various frames, so that by the time the keel was laid the work of erecting them on the keel could be proceeded with. In a small boat, the frames are in one piece steamed and bent into shape, but in large vessels they had to be built up of several pieces of timber sawed or chopped into the necessary shapes and fastened together with dowels and tree-nails. This work was usually done on a platform.
When a number of frames had been assembled on the framing platform, the work of “raising” them on their destined position on the keel began. This was done by tackles and poles, and when it was accurately placed, the floor frame was bolted to the keel. The stem and stern-post was also raised and fitted securely to the keel by various scarphs, aprons, and other pieces of solid timber designed to hold everything together in the strongest possible manner and bolted through and through.
The “skeleton” of the vessel erected, she was said to be “in frame,” and after all was lined up to the satisfaction of the foreman shipwright, the strengthening timbers were placed in the ship. The first of these was the keelson, laid over the frames and on top of the keel. Then commenced the ceiling, or planking, of the inside of the ship. This protects the frames from the cargo and strengthens the hull, as the ceiling is bolted on to the frame timbers in a fore-and-aft direction. When the vessel was ceiled up to the height of the lower deck, the shelf and clamp timbers were bolted on, these timbers being scarphed together to form a horizontal strake running the whole length of the ship upon which the ends of the deck beams would rest. The deck beams would then be fitted in with heavy knees to brace them. The number of decks would depend upon the size of the vessel; ships of between 500 and 1200 tons would have two decks; larger craft would have three. Sometimes all three were planked or decked, but usually the two upper ones would be planked and the bare beams left unplanked on the third. When the ceiling and beams were bolted and fitted in, the vessel was ready for planking outside.
Planking was usually done from the keel upwards and the planks were fastened to the frames by iron or copper bolts and tree-nails, the latter being a sort of wooden bolt driven through planking, frames, and ceiling, split across the ends, and wedged so that it cannot work out. Care had to be taken that the butts, or ends of the planks, were distributed “out of line,” i.e. to avoid having a tier of planks with their ends joining in a line with the planks above and below, as such would tend to weaken the whole structure. The ends of planks should meet each other on the frames and not between them.
When the vessel was planked, the seams were caulked and made water-tight. Water was pumped into the hull, and wherever a leak was noticed the place would be chalk-marked and made tight. Deck planking would be laid and caulked; hatch coamings fitted and all deck-houses erected. The ship would then be painted, the rudder hung into place, and all necessary blacksmith work, such as channel plates, stay-bolts, etc., fixed to the hull. The vessel was then ready for launching.
Some ships were practically finished on the stocks, and would have all the masts stepped, the rigging in place, and the yards aloft; others would be launched with the lower-masts stepped. The majority were sent into the water as completed hulls and would be sparred and rigged after they were afloat. Prior to sending the vessel into the water, the launching ways under her bottom would be well greased and a cradle constructed under the ship to carry her down the ways into the water. The hull was raised off the keel blocks, and blocks and shores were knocked out until the vessel rested upon the cradle. When the time of high water arrived, the cradle was released and on the greased and sloping ways the hull slipped down into the water after the traditional christening ceremony.
To go into the details of wooden ship-building would demand too much space in this volume and more technical knowledge than is possessed by the writer, but the brief description above may serve to give an idea of the work as practised in the old days. In comparing the old wooden ships with the modern ones of steel, one is struck by the enormous size of the timbers and the thickness of the planking in the wooden craft. In a moderate-sized ship the deck beams would be 14 inches square and the planking would range from 5 inches to 10 inches thick, according to position. In superior ships, the frames would be spaced such a little distance apart that the vessel appeared as a solid mass of timber ere the ceiling and planking were bolted on. With such ponderous timbers and beams and heavy planking, bolted in every direction, and braced by great wooden knees and further re-inforced by long iron knees and straps, it is difficult to comprehend the terrific power of a boarding sea that was able to break such beams and burst asunder the stoutly braced and bolted timbers. Yet this was a common happening.
Great Britain built her wooden ships of oak and teak principally, with some softer woods for decks and interior fittings; American ships were also constructed largely of hard woods. The Canadian ship was invariably classed as a “soft-wood” vessel, as soft wood entered very largely into the construction of nearly all of them.
The principal wood used for ship construction in Canada in the ’forties was tamarac, also known as hackmatack, American larch, cypress, or juniper. Light and durable, some authorities claimed that a tamarac-built ship, being extremely buoyant, was better suited for the carriage of heavy cargoes than a vessel built of oak. Proof of its durability could be found in ships built of this timber being thirty and even forty years old and afloat and still sound and tight. An old authority states, “Few descriptions of wood, if any, are superior to it for ship planks and ship timber, and the clipper ships of New Brunswick, built almost wholly of this larch wood (tamarac), have attained a worldwide celebrity for speed, strength and durability.” In the later years of Canada’s wooden ship-building era, the large tamarac was difficult to secure owing to the prodigal manner in which it had been cut, and it was used principally for knees. When tamarac failed, spruce took its place for ship timbers and planking.
Black birch was much used for the keel, floor timbers, and lower planking of ships, as it lasted well under water. American live and white oak was imported for the stems, stern-posts, keelsons, and beams of superior ships, and pitch pine was also imported for beams. White pine was used for cabins and interior finishing, and for masts; red pine was occasionally used for ceiling and planking, and yellow pine for decks. Black spruce made splendid yards and topmasts, and, in later years, when tamarac gave out as a wood for ship timbers and planking, the spruce grown around the shores of the Bay of Fundy and known as “Bay Shore spruce” became the principal substitute. This particular wood grew very straight, and was tough, strong, and light.
Beech was also used in ship bottoms and has been known to remain sound for forty years. White elm was also used for under-water planking and also for making ship’s blocks. White cedar, such as grows in the Canadian swamps, was also used and passed by Lloyd’s as top timbers and third foot-hooks of ships of the six- and seven-year grade. Maple—a Canadian hard wood—was also used as well as white-heart chestnut.
Red and white oak grows in Eastern Canada, but it never made a successful wood in ship-building. Ships were constructed of Canadian oak at one time, principally at Quebec, but it was affected with dry rot in about five years and this hard wood was seldom used afterwards. Salting and pickling the timbers with brine was a common method employed to prevent rotting. Some vessels were heavily salted.
In the earlier years of Canada’s ship-building era, practically all ships built were iron-fastened. Later on, copper fastenings were used below the water-line and iron above. Then came copper and galvanised iron fastenings. Some ships were copper-fastened throughout, but not many.
A good deal of controversy raged as to the merits and demerits of iron and copper fastenings in ships. The Canadian builders of the earlier days used iron probably because they were too poor to buy copper, and also because the majority of the ships they built were for sale in a cheap market. But many builders of first-class soft-wood ships stuck to iron because they really believed it to make a stronger and better fastening. The advocates of copper declared that iron would rust and corrode under the action of salt water. The champions of iron claimed that a bolt of good black iron could be driven through planks and beams tighter than a copper bolt, and even if it did rust it held the better because of the corrosion. Copper bolts, being of softer metal, could not be driven into the wood like iron, the points of spikes often buckled between plank and timber, and the larger holes bored to take copper spikes and bolts permitted the water to permeate and the bolt to work loose. “I’ve seen these copper-fastened ships on the ways to be repaired and I could pull the bolts, slimy with verdigris, out of her with my hands,” said an old ship-builder. “Iron may rust, but I’ve known what it is to try to drive out an iron bolt rusted into the wood. It holds tighter than the devil himself.” Locust tree-nails were also used to fasten frames, timbers, etc., as well as tree-nails of other hard woods.
Canadian-built ships in the North Atlantic trade were not sheathed as a rule with metal. Some vessels were sheathed with hard wood though, which saved the hull from the wear and tear of ice. Ships destined for voyaging in tropical seas were sheathed with copper or yellow metal, some with zinc, to prevent the accumulation of barnacles and marine growths. If these vessels were iron-fastened throughout, wood sheathing or tarred felt would have to be laid under the copper or yellow metal to prevent corrosive action between the iron and the copper.
Vessels constructed in Canada and bound on Southern voyages were often metalled in Great Britain. As Great Britain was the usual destination of most Canadian ships on their maiden voyages, this could be effected there cheaper than in Canada.
The channel plates, iron straps, and knees, mast, yard, and boom irons, rudder gudgeons, and pintles, and such-like fitted ironwork, were usually made by the ship-builder’s blacksmith or by the persons who did such work in the village or town where the shipyard was located. Many of the larger vessels were diagonally strapped with iron between frames and planking. In a good many places the local smith could shoe horses, make sleigh runners, wheel tyres, and ship’s ironwork with equal facility. In the larger centres of ship-building, ship-smiths were established who made fittings for all the local yards. In the larger towns also would be found block-makers and spar-makers. The sails were often secured from sail-makers in Quebec, St. John, and Halifax, as well as from local men.
Patent and standard fittings, such as windlasses, capstans, pumps, steering gear, binnacles, etc., were imported from the United States or Great Britain, in the early days, but were afterwards made in Canada. Some ships had iron knees placed in them when they arrived in Great Britain.
Some of the ships built in the Maritime Provinces of Canada during the period from 1840 to 1860 were built for Canadian and British owners of superior materials and first-class fittings. Many established ship-builders would not launch anything but a high-grade type of vessel. But there were many wretched specimens of marine architecture constructed in Canada in the early days. These “hard scrabble” packets were turned out as a species of speculative investment. An enterprising merchant would secure a foreman shipwright and draft out the plans for a ship or barque of from 500 to 1000 tons. The promoter would secure a little ready money for initial and necessary expenditures, and stock in the proposed vessel would be given in return. The men who supplied the timber, the blacksmith, the block-maker, sail-maker, and ship-chandler would supply materials on the same basis, and even the labour would be secured in return for shares in the ship. Into a good many such craft went the cheapest and flimsiest materials. Launched, rigged, and loaded with the ubiquitous and ever-ready cargo of timber, the ship would be sent to Great Britain consigned to brokers who made a specialty of selling such vessels. Being new and considerably cheaper than the hard-wood ships of British yards, they sold without much difficulty, and the various shareholders received their money and often made a handsome profit upon their investment. Hundreds of vessels were built and sold in this manner and in many cases not a single dollar in cash was paid out for the construction of the ship.
Such vessels were only fit for carrying timber. Most were not fit to sail in after a year or two afloat, and many were purchased by unscrupulous ship-owners for the purpose of profiting on the insurance. Captain Samuels—the famous master of the Atlantic packet ship Dreadnought—speaks contemptuously of one such craft which he was asked to join in Liverpool. She was the Leander, and he states “. . . . she was a Bluenose, built as they all are in the cheapest and flimsiest manner, of unseasoned timber, iron-fastened, in expectation of being sold to the underwriters.” At the time of which the doughty captain writes there was a ship of that name of 733 tons and built in 1841 by Alex. and Wm. Campbell at Tatamagouche, N.S.
Captain Samuels was a little harsh in condemning all Canadian-built ships as being cheap and flimsy, but at that period there were a large number which fully deserved his criticism, and the output of such “built-for-sale” craft caused underwriters to scan them warily and sailors to regard them with derision. In justice to many of the early builders, it must be said that numerous vessels were turned out to be sold abroad in which workmanship, material, and fittings were of the best, but the flood of “cheap ’uns” during the ’forties, and the fact that practically all Canadian craft were soft-wood ships, placed them in a very low grade for many years.
The largest vessel constructed in 1840 was the ship Queen of the Ocean, 1196 tons, built at St. John, N.B., by Francis and Samuel Smith. In the same year, Justus Wetmore, at Kingston, N.B., launched the ship Speed, 1010 tons. Six other ships ranging from 750 tons to 1000 tons were also built at St. John that year.
In Quebec, 28 ships and barques of between 500 and 1000 tons were built in 1840—the largest being the ship Goliath, 988 tons, launched from John Jeffery’s yard.
In Nova Scotia, Francis Bourneuf, at Clare, built the ship Avon, 1013 tons, and in the same vicinity, at Salmon River, Isaac H. Doane built the ship Jane Augusta, 947 tons. In the same year was built the little barque Sarah, 537 tons, owned by E. W. Moody and others of Yarmouth, N.S. On November 20th, 1849, this little craft, under the command of Captain David Cook of Yarmouth, rescued the crew and 390 passengers of the emigrant ship Caleb Grimshaw, which caught fire off the Azores. Crammed with the survivors, the Sarah carried them into New York, arriving there on January 15th, 1850. The rescue was a marine sensation at the time, and Captain Cook and the crew of the Sarah were accorded a magnificent reception in New York, the master receiving the freedom of the city and $5000 in cash besides a resolution from the U.S. Senate commending his bravery. The officers and other members of the crew were also handsomely rewarded. The Sarah was a genuine Bluenose, being built, owned and commanded by Nova Scotians, and, as she was nine years old at the time of the rescue, it can be safely assumed that she was an example of superior construction. One is constrained to wonder how Captain Cook managed to accommodate and feed over 400 persons on his little ship during fifty-six days of sailing to the westward during winter on the North Atlantic.
In 1841, George Thompson built the ship Princess Royal, 1109 tons, at St. John, N.B.—the largest vessel of that year. On August 6th, 1841, the yard of Owens and Duncan at Portland, St. John, was the scene of a disastrous conflagration. A pot of pitch boiled over and started a fire which spread and caused the destruction of sixty houses. A fine 900-ton ship ready for launching was totally destroyed. This vessel was built in a superior manner and was a mass of hard-wood timber.
No very large ships were constructed in 1842, but in 1843 Allan Gilmour, of Quebec, built the ships Ottawa, 1152 tons, and Rankin, 1120 tons, both for the timber trade, with which he was prominently identified. In Brandy Cove, New Brunswick, Joshua Briggs launched the ship Lord Ashburton, 1009 tons, for Nehemiah Marks, who was both owner and master, and which was probably built for sale in England.
In 1844, I find that a little clipper ship named the Superior, 572 tons, was built in Prince Edward Island for Irish owners. This vessel was a sharp model copper- and iron-fastened, and strapped with iron. Her name, no doubt, indicates the class of vessel she was. The number of vessels of sharp models built in Canada were very few. In the same year, William Porter, of St. Stephen, N.B., built the Schoodiac, 1004 tons, and the largest vessel of the year.
Allan Gilmour, of Quebec, built two large ships in 1845 for his partners in the timber trade—the Argo, 1163 tons, and Agamemnon, 1167 tons. These ships were constructed of oak and hard wood, but iron-fastened. Also in Quebec, John Jeffery built the Malabar, 1175 tons, in 1845, and William Henry, the ship Erin, of 1134 tons. James Smith in his St. John, N.B., yard built the ship Tuskar, 1029 tons, and in the same locality, Owens and Duncan launched the William Penn, 1041 tons, both vessels for sale.
In 1846 the tonnage of the Quebec ships began to rise. John Jeffery built the ship Sobraon, of 1280 tons; George Black, the Omega, 1277 tons; Hyppolite Dubord, the Pemberton, 1253 tons; Thomas Oliver, the Glen Helen, 1050 tons, and James Tibbitts, the Oregon, 1004 tons—a very creditable showing of what were big ships for those days. In St. John, N.B., James Smith built the ship Alfred, 1073 tons, and Owens and Duncan the ship Great Britain, 998 tons. The latter vessel must have been of superior construction, as in 1857 she was on a Cape Horn voyage from London to Callao. The three-deck ship Yeoman, of 955 tons, was also built in St. John in 1846. The Rosario, a ship of 1042 tons, copper- and iron-fastened, was built in Richibucto, N.B., and was afloat in 1859. In Pictou, N.S., Captain George McKenzie built the ship John McKenzie, of 905 tons—a large vessel for that district and named in memory of the captain’s brother, who died at sea aboard the Pictou ship Sesostris while on passage from Liverpool to Canada. George McKenzie was in command of the Sesostris at the time, and he had a coffin lined with lead made by the ship’s carpenter, and, filling it with rum, he thus embalmed his brother’s body and brought it home to Pictou for burial. McKenzie, a practical seaman and ship-builder, turned out first-class vessels, and was one of the truly representative Bluenose master mariners who could build ships, sail, and operate them.
The year 1847 saw a flotilla of good-sized vessels launched from the yards of Quebec ship-builders. The number included 28 ships, 25 barques, and 5 brigs. Allan Gilmour built the ship Adept, 1190 tons, of oak and other hard woods for his partners in Glasgow, and she was still afloat in 1859. James Oliver built the ship Brandon, 1196 tons, Edward Sewell, the ship Isabella, 1017 tons, and Pierre Valin, the ship Ringfield, 1023 tons. The New Brunswick ship-builders, who were then close rivals of the Quebeckers, drew attention to themselves when Owens and Duncan, of St. John, built the ship Forest Monarch, of 1542 tons. This vessel was 171 feet long, 35 feet beam, and 23·2 feet deep. William and Richard Wright built the ship David Cannon, of 1331 tons, at their St. John yards. At Country Harbour, Nova Scotia, Alex. Lyle built the barque Deborah, 624 tons, for Samuel Cunard, of Halifax, and in her registration entry Samuel Cunard is named as her master. I record this as being a small item in the history of a famous family destined in later years to link their name indissolubly to the great Cunard Line.
St. John again took the lead over the other Provinces with the biggest ship when, in 1848, The Duke, of 1357 tons, was launched. Nova Scotia launched a ship of 1283 tons, called the Zetland, which was built by James Malcolm at St. Mary’s Bay. Quebec built a large number of ships this year, but none over 1200 tons.
In 1848, Allan Gilmour built the ship Actæon, 609 tons, of hard wood. In 1885, she was rebuilt. In October, 1897, the Actæon arrived at St. John, N.B., from Liverpool with a cargo of salt. For a vessel almost fifty years old to be carrying a salt cargo across the Atlantic in the Fall of the year speaks volumes for the manner of her construction. This ship was actually afloat in 1905 and owned in Drammen, Norway.
The year 1849 opened on a bright era for shipping with the rush of miners and others to California. The withdrawal of so many American ships from other trades to go on the highly remunerative California run livened the market for Canadian-built vessels, and a large number of good-sized craft were constructed in British North American yards. Canadian ships also rushed supplies and provisions round the Horn to the gold camps on the Sacramento. Fourteen ships of between 900 and 1500 tons were built in Quebec—the largest being the Dalriada, 1504 tons, 184 × 34·4 × 24·7 feet, built by George H. Parke for English owners. Several of the Quebec ships were built of oak and hard wood, iron-fastened and iron-kneed, for Glasgow and Liverpool owners. Allan Gilmour launched six timber droghers during the year, ranging from 837 to 1279 tons. This year, George Black built the ship Theodore, 1063 tons, of oak and hard wood, iron-kneed and copper- and iron-fastened—a superior ship. She was owned in Liverpool, and was afloat in 1859. Another oak ship was the Hercyna, 857 tons, built by John Jeffery for Liverpool owners. Also built in 1849 by T. H. Oliver at Quebec was the ship Wilson Kennedy, 1129 tons, which I mention because of the fact that her master on her initial voyage to Great Britain with lumber was James Nicol Forbes, a Scotch sailor whose name a few years later became a proverb in the mouths of ship-owners and seamen, and who is permanently identified with the celebrated Canadian-built Australian clipper Marco Polo and her wonderful passages to and from the Antipodes. Captain Forbes and the Marco Polo will be dealt with in another section of this history.
In New Brunswick, nothing noteworthy in the building of large ships is to be recorded in 1849. W. and R. Wright launched the ship Dundonald, 1372 tons, and James Smith the Tippo Saib, 1022 tons. In Nova Scotia, Edward Budd, of Digby, built the ship Eudocia, 1015 tons, for J. and R. Reed of St. John. In Pugwash, a little barque called Chance, 550 tons, of medium model, was constructed of oak and fastened with copper. Prince Edward Island, whose builders dealt mostly in small vessels, came forward in 1849 with the 684-ton ship Zetus, built by Samuel Duncan at Charlottetown. In 1857 she is recorded as being bound from London to Coquimbo, Chile, and she was owned in Liverpool and afloat in 1866—a tribute to “The Island” timber and workmanship.
The foregoing review of ship-building operations in Canada from 1840 to 1849 is introductory to the great era which commenced with 1850. As the close of the ’forties is linked with the hectic days of the California gold rush and the splendid American clipper ships built for the Cape Horn passage, it may be well to introduce here the small part that Canadians and Canadian vessels played in the “days of ’49.”
The lure of the California gold strike in 1848, which resulted in a tremendous rush round Cape Horn of hundreds of ships crowded with gold-seekers and highly remunerative cargoes, infected Canada in a modest way. The American topsail schooner Eureka came down from Cleveland, Ohio, with fifty-three passengers bound for the gold-fields, and took her departure from Quebec in October 1849. On November 13th, 1849, the little 295-ton barque Rory O’More, owned by a syndicate of Quebec gold-seekers, and commanded by James Brennan, left the St. Lawrence port for San Francisco. The Rory O’More was formerly wrecked on Anticosti, but had been salved and repaired, and was purchased by the Quebec “Argonauts” as a means of getting to the land of gold. The little vessel was reputed to be a fast sailer, and it was said that if she were loaded properly she could outsail any vessel afloat. Be that as it may, she arrived in San Francisco in the beginning of May, 1850. The meagre record of her voyage states that she put into Buenos Ayres on the passage and overhauled all the Yankee clippers from there who had sailed just before her. Her average speed from the day she left Quebec until she arrived out was 6½ knots, and she went around Cape Horn under studdingsails. On arrival, she was sold.
In company with the Rory O’More sailed the Quebec brig Panama, of about 300 tons. This brig was built by Horatio N. Jones at Quebec, and she was purchased on the stocks by another syndicate of gold-seekers. For the long voyage she was metalled with zinc, as no copper was to be had in Quebec and the party could not afford to wait until copper sheeting could be brought from Halifax by water. With thirty passengers and a cargo of twenty wooden houses, knocked down, and all complete to windows, doors and glass, she left with the Rory O’More, and under the command of Captain McKenzie. In the Gulf, she split the cap of her foremast, which afterwards necessitated her putting into Rio for repairs. The account of a passenger is given herewith:
“A few days after leaving Rio she carried away her foretopmast in a white squall which only lasted a few minutes, but did not lose a block, and as we had plenty of spare spars and lots of carpenters, repairs were soon made. Sighted land near the Horn, but we were thirty days before we could say that we were around. The weather was very rough and cold. All sky-lights were battened down and a small oil lamp only in the cabin. You could not stand up below the beams. We had two tables lengthwise in the cabin and two chairs—one for the captain and the other for P. Paterson. The rest of us sat on our trunks, which were lashed to our berths—fitted up of rough pine boards.
“We intended going into Buenos Ayres, but the ship’s bottom was so dirty that the captain did not like to go in. Anchored for three days at Juan Fernandez, and got a supply of water, and reached San Francisco, 1st July, 1850.”
The writer made no boasts about the brig’s sailing powers. Briefly he states:
“We could see a vessel on the horizon astern in the morning, but at night we had to go into the bows to look for her.”
The Panama was sold to the same parties who bought the Rory O’More, but a better price was obtained for her. Captain McKenzie afterwards took her to the Cape of Good Hope, but she was lost on voyage to England.
In Nova Scotia, the locally owned brigantine Mary Jane, of 81 tons, sailed from Yarmouth on November 22nd, 1849, with a company of gold-seekers bound for California. Under the command of James Baker, the brigantine and her company of eighteen persons arrived in San Francisco on May 25th, 1850, after a passage of 183 days. For a cargo, she carried house-building material. Like the other vessels, she was sold on arrival.
On December 18th of the same year, the brig Zone left Yarmouth on the same venture, under command of George W. Bond, and with seven men to try their luck. The usual cargo of building materials was carried. She arrived safely and was sold to parties in Sydney, Australia. The Zone was 100 tons, and built in 1848. The smallest vessel to make the long passage from Yarmouth was the 69-ton schooner Eagle, Calvin Valpey, master, which sailed for San Francisco on November 9th, 1850. She arrived at Cape de Verde in 32 days, crossed the equator in 41 days, passed through the Straits of Magellan in 77 days, and arrived at Juan Fernandez in 100 days. She stayed there one day to water, and arrived at San Francisco on April 18th, 1851—making the passage in 159 days. In addition to the master, she had fourteen persons aboard.
The faring forth of these intrepid adventurers in such small craft on a long voyage is testimony to the calibre of the Canadians who made the venture. Even in those early days no land was too distant nor any sea too stormy or hazardous for these Bluenose seamen and gold-seekers to attempt to reach or navigate. From Quebec to Cape Sable—the far-flung limits of Canada’s Atlantic coast-line—the seafaring spirit was strong in the hearts of the people, and the rounding of the stormy Horn, or threading the squall-harried and tortuous defiles of Magellan’s Straits, in mere cockle-shells, failed to daunt their courage or retard their enterprise.
And I saw a fast full-rigger with her swelling canvas spread,
And the steady Trade-wind droning in her royals overhead.
C. Fox Smith.
Ship-building was booming in Quebec in 1850, no fewer than 30 ships and barques of over 800 tons register being launched that year. John Munn built the Martin Luther, 1241 tons, which was the largest Quebecker of that season. Most of Munn’s ships were built on his own account, and many of them were named after celebrated persons in religious reforms—thus, in addition to the Martin Luther, Mr. Munn also built the ship John Calvin, 884 tons, in 1850. Pierre Valin, a famous French-Canadian ship-builder, constructed his first 1000-ton ship when he built the Australia. Thomas Conrad Lee built the ships Washington and Windsor, of 1100 tons each, for Gibbs, Bright and Co., Liverpool—a well-known firm of British ship-owners.
In New Brunswick, Alexander Sime at Lancaster built the three-deck ship Kossuth, of 1260 tons, the largest N.B. vessel constructed in 1850. Two barques of 640 and 670 tons were built by Joseph Salter at Moncton, and Malcolm Cochran launched the 822-ton ship Mersey at the same place. A number of ships and barques ranging from 600 to 900 tons were built at other New Brunswick ports. Nine vessels of from 750 to 1026 tons were built at St. John, the largest being the ship Albatross, built by William Olive for Gibbs, Bright and Co., Liverpool. Fernie Bros., of the Red Cross Line, London, purchased the ship Admiral, 811 tons, from her builder, Francis Smith, of St. John.
Nova Scotia still stuck to small craft—the largest built in 1850, as far as I can ascertain, was the ship Montgomery, 848 tons, by Captain George McKenzie at New Glasgow. McKenzie accomplished a notable feat that year when he built, launched, rigged, loaded, and dispatched the barque Koh-i-noor, 314 tons, to Glasgow, Scotland, with a cargo of black birch timber, within the space of 90 days from the time her keel was laid.
If the California stampede of 1849 brought fame and fortune to the builders and owners of American clipper ships, the discovery of gold in Australia in 1851 gave a tremendous impetus to ship-building in New Brunswick and Quebec. Emigration to Australia, which had been but desultory up to that date, swelled to a great flood, which all the ships available were unable to cope with. The fortunes made in California had set the world gold-mad, and when the news came of the Australian discoveries it seemed as though everybody outside the Island Continent wanted to get there—and get there quickly. “Ships, ships and more ships!” was the cry in the British ports, and regular packets were withdrawn from their accustomed runs and sent booming around the Cape of Good Hope packed with emigrants eager to set foot in the new Golconda of the South.
Orders for new ships were placed in British yards, but deliveries could not cope with the demand. Then the Liverpool ship-owners began to look over the big Bluenose timber droghers, which were coming in with their deal cargoes consigned to brokers with orders to sell vessel and freight for the benefit of the builders and shareholders in New Brunswick and Quebec. Great ships, most of them were, two- and three-deckers with bow and stern ports for timber loading, full-models for packing a big cargo, but clean-lined under water for fair sailing, even when piled to the rails with deals. Some of these vessels were purchased by enterprising ship-owners, hauled into dry-dock and refastened with copper and sheathed with yellow metal for the tropic seas, their spacious ’tween decks fitted up with berths for emigrants, and poop cabins extended and furnished as saloons for first-class passengers, and when completed they were sent flying out to Australia.
W. and R. Wright, of St. John, New Brunswick, laid down the keel of a large ship at their yard on the Marsh Creek in 1850. Named the Beejapore, she was designed to be the biggest vessel constructed in St. John, and had three decks and a half-poop, registered 1600 tons, and was 182·4 feet in length, 36·2 feet beam, and 29·4 feet deep. Her figurehead was a full-length figure of a male Indian.[2]
Shortly after Wrights commenced building the Beejapore, James Smith, in the yard adjoining, began planning a still larger ship, and laid the keel of a vessel to be called the Marco Polo. Her length from the inner part of the main stem to the fore-part of the stern aloft was 185 feet, her breadth amidships 38 feet, and her depth of hold amidships 30 feet. She had three decks, with a height of 8 feet between each, and was very stoutly constructed with hard-pine beams, hackmatack, pine, oak, and other woods in her frame and planking. She was built for sale, and doubtless the builder and shareholders in St. John and Liverpool owned in her.
The Marco Polo was not a clipper in the true sense of the term, but she was of sharper model under water than the usual craft built at St. John, and was regarded as a distinct departure from the common run of ships before her. Above the water, she was lofty and somewhat box-like—a great, roomy, heavily-timbered vessel designed to pack a huge cargo and yet sail well. The true clipper was too sharp to carry much cargo, but in Marco Polo James Smith combined carrying capacity with an under-water body of sharp entrance and clean run—the true hollow bows of the clipper model being embodied—but amidships she had the bilge of the cargo carrier. She was equipped with the bow ports of the timber drogher, and was black-iron fastened and uncoppered when launched. Her upper deck was flush from stem to stern, with no poop or forecastle, but with small houses at each hatch.
The Marsh Creek in Courtenay Bay, St. John, where she was built, was characterised by a local chronicler as “the most God-forsaken hole possibly discovered, considering the fine ships that had been built there.” At low tide, the place was, as its name implies, a marshy creek with little or no water in it. Launchings were made at high water, when the great flood of Fundy poured in over the mud-flats and swamps. The Marco Polo being the largest ship so far built there, it was decided to wait for the Spring tides ere launching her. To save time, her lower masts—great built spars fashioned of several pieces of wood and encircled by iron bands—were stepped and her topmasts were sent aloft and her lower and topmast stays and shrouds were set up.
On the flood of a Spring tide, the launching took place, with numerous spectators cheering the passage of the ship down the ways. But the great hulk took charge of those employed to check her progress and burrowed into the mud on the opposite side of the creek. All efforts to drag her off that and succeeding tides proved fruitless. When the water ebbed after launching, she fell over on her side, and it was thought that she was ruined. With financial loss staring them in the face, the builder and local shareholders began blaming each other for constructing such a big ship in such a place, but as recriminations would not save the ship, they got together and began considerable excavating around the Marco Polo’s hull. Two weeks later, with the excavating and another high tide, the ship came off the mud undamaged and was fitted out for sea.
Her first voyage, I believe, was to Liverpool with timber, and it is stated that she made the run in 15 days. From Liverpool she went to Mobile for a cargo of cotton, and on arrival back in Liverpool, according to Basil Lubbock, in his Colonial Clippers, she was bought by one “Paddy McGee, the rag man and marine store dealer” there. This man must have specialised in buying British North American ships at that time, as I find him listed as the owner of the ship Africa, 1306 tons, built in 1851 by George H. Parke at Quebec, and which was also engaged in the Australian emigrant trade.
The Marco Polo arrived just when Liverpool ship-owners were hunting for ships to place on the Australian run. James Baines, of the Black Ball Line of Australian Packets, saw her, and decided that, with some overhauling and fitting up, the Marco Polo would make a splendid ship for his purpose. McGee, it is said, sold her at a great profit to Baines.
Into dry-dock went the big timber drogher, and her iron fastenings were knocked out and replaced with copper, and she was sheathed with metal. Then she was fitted up for passengers, and the following account from the Illustrated London News will give an idea of what the Britishers thought of her:
“In strength she could not well be excelled. Her timbering is enormous. Her deck beams are huge balks of pitch-pine. Her timbers are well formed and ponderous. The stem and stern frame are of the choicest material. The hanging and lodging knees are all natural crooks and fitted to the greatest nicety. The exterior planking and ceiling is narrow, and while there has been no lack of timber, there has been no profusion of labour. Her registered tonnage is 1625, but her burthen will considerably exceed 2000 tons.
“On deck forward of the poop, which is used as a ladies’ cabin, is a ‘home on deck’ to be used as a dining saloon. It is ceiled with maple, and the pilasters are panelled with richly ornamented and silvered glass, coins of various countries being a feature of the decorations. Between each pilaster is a circular aperture about 6 feet in circumference for light and ventilation; over it is placed a sheet of plate glass with a cleverly painted picturesque view in the centre, with a framework of foliage and scroll in opaque colours and gold. The whole panels are brought out slightly by the rim of perforated zinc, so that not only does light from the ventilator diffuse itself over the whole, but air is freely admitted.
“The saloon doors are panelled in stained glass, bearing figures of commerce and industry from the designs of Mr. Frank Howard. In the centre of the saloon is a table or dumb-waiter made of thick plate glass, which has the advantage of giving light to the dormitories below. The upholstery is in embossed crimson velvet.
“The berths in separate state-rooms are ranged in the ’tween decks and are rendered cheerful by circular glass hatch-lights of novel and effective construction.”
Thus they metamorphosed the big St. John timber ship whose only decoration at launching was the full-length figure of Marco Polo which graced her stem-head. Many writers have stated that she was a “clipper ship built for the Black Ball Line,” and this has been passed on, but a timber ship she was, classed six years by Lloyd’s, and even the fulsome “write-up” reprinted above mentions the fact that there was no profusion of labour expended in her original construction. Contemporary writers in St. John state that she was a fortunate “fluke,” for, though duplicates of the Marco Polo were attempted, yet none ever came up to her in the records she established. I would hesitate to affirm that her speed was wholly due to her design—rather would I state that the skill and daring of her commanders were in a larger measure responsible for the extraordinary passages she made.
See Appendix. |
On Sunday, July 4th, 1852, the Marco Polo, under the command of Captain James Nicol Forbes—the famed “Bully” Forbes of fo’c’sle legend—left Liverpool for Melbourne, Australia, with 930 emigrants and a crew of 60 men—half of whom were working their passages out to the colony. Before sailing, Forbes boasted that he would have his ship back in the Mersey within six months, and his statement was received with tolerant amusement.
But Forbes could figure out what such a ship would do in the high South latitudes when squared away before a booming gale which blew strong from the west day after day. Having had experience in sailing British North American ships, with a big and willing crew, good officers, a comparatively “light” ship, and plenty of nerve, Forbes knew that he could do some travelling with this three-skysail-yard St. John timber drogher when she got down in the “Roaring Forties” and running her easting. As he forecasted, she arrived inside Port Philip Heads at 11 a.m. on September 18th, 1852—beating the steamer Australia by a week, and making the passage in 68 days. When running her easting in South latitudes she covered 1344 miles in four days, averaging 336 miles a day. Her best day’s run down South was 364 miles.
According to Lubbock’s Colonial Clippers, Captain Forbes, to ensure that his crew could not skip out for the gold diggings, trumped up a charge of insubordination against them and had them clapped into prison until they were required again. On October 11th, 1852, the Marco Polo left Melbourne for Liverpool by way of Cape Horn, and arrived back in the Mersey again after a record passage of 76 days and but five months and 21 days out on the whole round voyage. Thus, he made good his boast, and the shipping world was astounded. Thousands of people came down to view her as she lay in the Salthouse Dock, and thrilled with pride when they gazed on the huge banner which hung between her fore and mainmasts and upon which was painted: “THE FASTEST SHIP IN THE WORLD.”
James Nicol Forbes, master of the Marco Polo, was the British sailor’s hero, and his offset to the celebrated Yankee skippers of clipper ships. He was an unusual character, and all manner of exploits are credited to him and much embellished in the later years. It was stated that he hauled himself, hand over hand, from the spanker boom end to the shark’s tail on the flying-jib-boom—a feat which called for strength, activity, and nerve—rather unusual acrobatics for a ship-master to perform. The saying, “Hell or Melbourne!” is credited to him—the yarn being that this was his reply to a deputation of frightened passengers who requested him to shorten sail one time while he was driving the ship in a strong gale. But the most characteristic tale of him is his boast to the Marco Polo’s passengers when beginning her second voyage out to Australia: “Ladies and gentlemen, last trip I astonished the world with the sailing of this ship. This trip I intend to astonish God Almighty!”
Forbes was born in Aberdeen, Scotland, in 1821. He was a man of unbounded nerve, sailorly skill, and bold initiative. While a young man, he rose to command, and gained notoriety by the manner in which he made fast passages in ships that had not the qualities for rapid sailing. As I have already mentioned, he is listed as being master of the Quebec-built ship Wilson Kennedy in 1849—at which date he would be 28 years of age—and he was master of ships before that. When he took command of the Marco Polo he was 31.
He was James Baines’ favourite skipper, and after two record-breaking passages in the Marco Polo, the ship-owner sent him out to Boston to command the clipper ship Lightning, built by Donald McKay at his Massachusetts yard for the Black Ball Line. Captain Arthur H. Clark in his Clipper Ship Era states that he brought good letters of introduction and made many friends among the clergy, as he was an enthusiastic churchman. While in Boston, Captain Forbes became acquainted with Donald McKay’s brother, Captain Lauchlan McKay, “who likewise took a great interest in ecclesiastical affairs.” Such close friends did they become that, when the Lightning was ready for sea, Captain McKay made the trip to Liverpool with his brother master mariner. It may be opportune here to state that Donald McKay—the most celebrated American builder of clipper ships—and Lauchlan McKay—the hard-driving master of the American clipper Sovereign of the Seas—were Nova Scotians of pure Scottish ancestry, both having been born and brought up in Shelburne, N.S., ere emigrating to the United States.[3]
Captain Clark tells of the Lightning’s departure from Boston under the joint command of these redoubtable Scotsmen. “At 3 o’clock (February 18th, 1854) she discharged her pilot off Boston Light. Her commander, being a pious man, was attended down the harbor by a select party of brethren and sisters of the church, who at parting gave him their blessing. This is much better than the dram-drinking and vociferous cheering which usually make up the parting scenes of the unregenerated.”
Knowing the reputation of both these hard-driving ship-masters when at sea, one is constrained to smile at the religious atmosphere which seemed to pervade the companionship of these two men, but, as sailors used to say, “There’s no religion outside the three-mile limit,” and whether it was because of excess of piety, or sheer hard driving and cracking on of sail with the crew on the jump all the time, the fact remains that the Lightning arrived in Liverpool after a passage of 13 days 19½ hours from Boston Light. And during the voyage, on March 1st, the ship made the astonishing 24 hours’ run of 436 miles, a run which has never been equalled under sail, and during which a brand-new foretopsail and jib were blown away and the ship logged 18½ knots with lee rail under water and rigging slack.
Captain Forbes took the Lightning out to Australia and made remarkable passages in her, and in 1855, as Commodore of the Black Ball Line, he took command of the splendid British ship Schomberg, built by Hall of Aberdeen clipper fame. This vessel was of 2600 tons, and was constructed as a rival to the big ships built in Canada and the United States. But she failed to come up to expectations, and Forbes got her ashore on a sand-bank near Cape Otway, Australia, and she was abandoned. Though exonerated by the Court of Inquiry, Captain Forbes was broken up by the loss and failed to “come back.” Commanding obscure ships, he drifted around the world, and died in Liverpool on June 4th, 1874, aged 52 years. On his tombstone in Smithdown Road Cemetery is engraved the simple legend below his name— “Master of the famous Marco Polo.”
See Appendix. |
On her second voyage, the Marco Polo left Liverpool on Sunday, March 13th, 1853, with 648 passengers, and arrived at Melbourne on May 29th, after a passage of 75 days. Her best day’s run was 314 miles. She left Melbourne on the return trip on June 10th, with 40 passengers, and £280,000 of gold dust in her strong room, and arrived in Liverpool on September 13th, after a passage of 95 days. The passage home was not extraordinary, but she had made the round voyage in the fine time of six months. Her best day’s run homeward on this trip was to the westward of the Horn on June 19th, dead of winter, when she logged 324 miles.
Captain Forbes left her for the clipper Lightning, and the Marco Polo’s chief officer, Charles McDonald, succeeded to the command. Her third voyage, under her new master, was made in the good time of 72 days 12 hours, and she came home in 78 days. Her fourth voyage to Australia was with Captain Wild as master, and she took 95 days to go out and 85 days to come home. In 1855, Captain Clarke took her out on her fifth voyage in 81 days and home in 86. She left Liverpool for Melbourne on her sixth voyage on December 7th, 1855, and arrived on February 26th, 1856—83 days. Her next outward passage in 1856 was made in 89 days.
In 1861 she collided with an iceberg down south and was badly stove-in forward. Making Valparaiso and leaking badly, she was repaired, and continued her voyage, arriving in Liverpool 183 days from Melbourne. She passed out from the Black Ball Line in the early ’sixties, but still continued in the Australian trade, and in 1867 she came into Liverpool from Melbourne in 76 days.
After this she trailed out from the company of the clipper packets—water-soaked and strained—and went into tramping. For a time she was owned in South Shields, but finally went under the Norwegian flag and staggered across the Western Ocean, timber laden, and with the windmill pump discharging the water which seeped in through her strained and sodden fabric, which had to be held together by frappings of chain. And in August, 1883, timber laden, she was caught in a Gulf of St. Lawrence gale and piled up at Cape Cavendish, Prince Edward Island—resting her bones on the shores of her “ain countree” after 32 years of making history and world wandering.
The ship Conway, 1195 tons, was built at St. John in 1851, and sold to the Black Ball Line for the Liverpool-Australia trade. She was a mixed wood ship, iron-fastened, and classed A.1. for five years when launched. The Black Ball Line also purchased the New Brunswick ship David McIver, 862 tons, built in the same year. The latter ship was of mixed wood construction and iron-fastened. Under command of Captain Baillie, the David McIver arrived at Sydney, August 25th, 1853, after a passage of 92 days from Liverpool. She had 400 emigrants, and was quarantined owing to an outbreak of measles among them. Her next voyage from Liverpool to Sydney was made in 102 days, and she was again quarantined, sixteen of her passengers having died from cholera. A third voyage was made to Sydney, arriving February 22nd, 1856, 91 days from Liverpool. In April, 1857, she arrived in Melbourne, having been dismasted, and in September, 1858, she is recorded as arriving at Sydney with 375 Government emigrants. At Richibucto, Henry O’Leary built the ship Roderick Dhu, 1080 tons, two decks, copper- and iron-fastened, and a ship of similar tonnage, called the Indian Ocean, was built on the Miramichi. Both vessels were sold to Liverpool owners.
The St. John-built ship Bloomer, 887 tons, owned by W. Clinch, London, was also engaged in the emigrant service to Australia.
No fewer than 32 ships of over 900 tons each were built in Quebec during 1851. Allan Gilmour built the largest—the Ailsa, 1457 tons—for the timber trade of his associates, Gilmour and Pollock, of Glasgow. George Holmes Parke, who specialised in big ships, built the Asia, 1349 tons, and the Africa, 1306 tons. Both were of mixed woods and iron-fastened. Samuel Robert Graves, of Liverpool, bought three ships built by Horatio Nelson Jones—the Plantagenet, 1110 tons, Julia, 1056 tons, and Columbine, 970 tons; Gibbs, Bright and Co. bought the ship Thorwaldsen, 903 tons, built by E. P. Lee, and the Ontario, barque, 687 tons, built by Theo. St. Jean; McCalmont Bros. and Co. bought the ships Europa, 1088 tons, and Charles, 1069 tons, both built by Thomas C. Lee. All these ships went into the foreign trade under the flags of their Liverpool owners.
Francis Bourneuf, at Belliveau’s Cove, N.S., built the fine ship Bourneuf, 1495[4] tons, in 1851 for Allison and Spicer, St. John, N.B. The Bourneuf was a three-decker, and the largest vessel built in Nova Scotia up to that date. At this time, Nova Scotia builders were still specialising in small craft, and the year 1851 was noteworthy because of two large Nova Scotiamen built then. The other craft was the ship Hamilton Campbell Kidston, built by Captain George McKenzie at his New Glasgow shipyard. This vessel, named after one of McKenzie’s business associates in Glasgow, Scotland, was 168 feet long, 38 feet beam, 29 feet deep, and registered 1444 tons, and was the largest vessel so far constructed in the locality. She was a two-deck ship of full model built of mixed woods, iron-fastened and with iron knees. In launching her, the ways spread and her stern burrowed in the mud when half-way down, but Captain McKenzie, a man of strong will and tremendous energy, set men to work digging her out and got her afloat by the next tide.
Commanded by Captain McKenzie, she sailed for Glasgow in the spring of 1852, and created much comment in nautical circles by berthing right up at the City docks on arrival. In those days, the Clyde was quite a narrow and tortuous stream, navigable only at high water, and deep-draughted ships usually docked at Greenock or Port Glasgow, rather than risk the 20-mile trip up to the Scottish metropolis. Many people came to view this big Bluenose ship, and Captain McKenzie was dined and presented with a silver tea and coffee service by merchants and friends in Glasgow and Greenock. The Hamilton Campbell Kidston was a genuine Bluenose ship officered by men from Pictou County and largely owned by her builder. She was afloat in 1865, and owned then by Price and Co., Liverpool.
Old tonnage measurement, which gives a greater tonnage than by the modern system of calculation. The new rules came into force about 1854. |
No large ships had yet been built in Prince Edward Island, but as time went on the local ship-builders became more ambitious. In 1851 four ships and barques of between 550 and 800 tons were built there. The largest was the ship Louisa, 781 tons, built by James Yeo at Port Hill. I find this ship listed in the Register of 1905 and owned then in Cardiff, Wales. I presume she was then a coal hulk or barge of some kind, but even so, fifty years is a long time for a soft-wood ship to remain afloat.
The demand for large ships to place in the Australian emigrant trade saw a host of Bluenose-built ships standing in to Liverpool and London to be purchased by James Baines of the Black Ball Line; Pilkington and Wilson of the White Star; Fernie Bros., Red Cross Line; Henry Fox, Fox Line of Packets; James Beazley; Miller and Thomson; Gibbs, Bright and Co.; David Cannon and Sons; Rathbone Bros.; Samuel R. Graves; John James Frost; McCalmont Bros., and many other well-known shipping firms.
Smith of St. John, N.B., launched the ship Ben Nevis, 1347 tons, in 1852, and sent her across to Liverpool with a cargo of timber. This ship was purchased by Pilkington and Wilson, and became the first craft owned by the White Star Line. Her dimensions were 181 × 38·5 × 28 feet. She was a deep-draughted timber drogher of full model, iron-fastened. The White Star had her refastened and coppered and fitted out for passengers, and she left Liverpool for Melbourne on September 27th, 1852, with 600 emigrants aboard, and arrived out after a commonplace passage of 96 days. In 1855, I find her owned by the firm of Farnsworth and Jardine—a large British timber concern with extensive connections in New Brunswick—and from this I would assume that she was not a success as an Australian packet and was resold for timber-droghing.
Fernie Bros., of Liverpool, bought the ship Miles Barton, 963 tons, built by W. and R. Wright, St. John. She had two decks and a poop, and her dimensions were 169·5 × 31 × 22 feet. In Colonial Clippers, she is credited with a maiden passage to Melbourne of 82 days, and two trips of 76 days each. In 1854, under Captain Kelly, she ran out to Melbourne in 78 days. In 1858 she was under the White Star flag, and made the passage to Melbourne in 82 days. On the homeward voyage she took a cargo of rice from Akyab to England.
McLaughlin and Stackhouse, of St. John, built the two-deck ship Golden Age, 1241 tons, which was bought by Tyson and Co., Liverpool, and placed on the Australian run. It is alleged that this ship logged 22 knots an hour once with the current aiding her. The Golden Age’s dimensions were 178·7 × 33·3 × 22·8 feet. Another fine ship was the Indian Queen, 1040 tons, built on the Miramichi in 1852 and classed seven years A.1. at Lloyd’s. An Australian friend supplied me with the following particulars of the Indian Queen’s voyages to the Antipodes. “Arrived Melbourne, August 8th, 1853, with 386 passengers, in 82 days. Arrived Melbourne, April 22nd, 1854, commanded by Captain C. Mills, in 94 days. Left on the homeward voyage with 60,859 ounces of gold on May 26th, and arrived Liverpool, September 14th—slow passage. In 1854 and 1855, she carried cargo to Hobart via Melbourne. In 1857 she arrived at Wellington, N.Z., on January 31st, under Captain Jobson, after a passage of 87 days from Liverpool. She flew the Black Ball flag and carried 340 emigrants.” According to Colonial Clippers, her first round voyage to Australia was made in 6 months and 11 days, and in 1855 she came home from Hobart in 78 days. In 1859, while homeward bound from Melbourne under Captain Brewer, with passengers and cargo, she collided with an iceberg in 58°S., 151°W., and was severely damaged. The mishap occurred during a dark, rainy night, and when the terrified passengers rushed on deck, it was to find that the master, mate, and most of the crew had left the ship—the captain even deserting his own son, an apprentice on the ship. Under the direction of the second mate and the carpenter, the male passengers and the remainder of the crew cleared away the wreckage and rigged jury-masts. Under scanty canvas, the Indian Queen headed for Valparaiso and arrived there safely after 40 days of heroic effort on the part of those aboard. The master, mate, and 15 men who abandoned the ship were never heard of again.
James Nevins, of St. John, built the ship Arabian, 1067 tons, 163 × 31 × 22 feet, iron-fastened, in 1852. On arrival at Liverpool she was taken up by Pilkington and Wilson, of the White Star Line. In 1854, she made an 86 days’ passage to Melbourne, under Captain Bannatyne, and in 1855 made the run in 84 days. Thomas Hilyard and Thomas Ruddock, of St. John, built the 1380-ton ship Goldfinder, which was also sold in Liverpool for the Australian trade. This vessel was built of hackmatack, pine, oak, and birch, and was classed A.1. for seven years by Lloyd’s. S. J. and W. J. Olive, St. John, built the ship Wansfell, 727 tons, 152·2 × 28·1 × 20·1 feet, which was bought by Rathbone Bros., Liverpool, and taken up by the Black Ball Line. Another big New Brunswick ship built in 1852, for James Baines, was the Wanata, 1442 tons. The Golconda, 1124 tons, built by James Briggs, St. John, was also disposed of in Liverpool.
In addition to the notable ships mentioned above, New Brunswick shipyards at St. John, St. Martins, St. Andrews, Kingston, Moncton, Hampton, Sackville, Richibucto, Quaco and Hillsborough built 20 ships and barques ranging from 500 to 1300 tons in 1852. The smaller ships were often operated by Canadian owners; the larger vessels went into the Liverpool market.
In 1852, Quebec ship-builders launched 21 ships and barques of from 700 to 1756 tons—the latter was a ship called the Ebba Brahe, 193 × 35·7 × 29·5 feet, built by Pierre Valin. Allan Gilmour built the Advance, 1613 tons, of oak and hard wood, for the timber trade, and George H. Parke built the America, 1483 tons. These three were the biggest Quebec ships of the year. New Brunswick seemed to have exceeded the Quebeckers this year with the output of the larger ships. No doubt the Marco Polo brought a good market for the products of the “Down-east” builders.
By this time, Quebec had twenty-five ship-building yards and eight or more floating docks. During 1852, Lloyd’s Registry sent Thomas Menzies out to Quebec to act as special surveyor. Mr. Menzies was a man of high character and ability, and under his influence and advice the quality of Quebec ships began to improve. For a fee of 25 cents per ton, he would survey a ship from the time her keel was laid until she was launched, and this would entitle the vessel to be listed in Lloyd’s Register as being “built under special survey”—a listing which always augmented her value in the market and improved her status with insurance brokers. But for a long time the most that Lloyd’s ever gave a Quebec-built ship was seven years A.1., and it was not until many years after that ships built in Canada received a higher grade. Seven years was the best that Lloyd’s would give to the finest craft built in Canadian yards during the ’fifties.
The largest Nova Scotian ship built in 1852 was the Catherine Glen, of 1327 tons, constructed at New Glasgow by Captain George McKenzie. She was loaded with timber and sent to Glasgow under the McKenzie house-flag and officered by Pictou County men. John Richards, of Yarmouth, N.S., built the barque Statesman, 869 tons, for Thomas Killam and others of the same place. This ship was owned and operated by Nova Scotians, and made an imposing addition to the rapidly growing Yarmouth fleet of that time, being the largest vessel so far owned there. At Windsor, N.S., Bennett Smith began to take his place as an important ship-builder with the launch of two ships, the Siam, 721 tons, and the Mersey, 610 tons. The Siam was a vessel of fine model and copper-fastened below the draught line. She was later owned in Plymouth, England. Other Nova Scotian vessels of 1852 were of small tonnage. In Prince Edward Island, James and William Yeo had the 907-ton ship Lady Seymour built for them at Cascumpeque. At Orwell Bay, William Douse built the Earl Selkirk, 692 tons. These were the largest “Island” vessels of 1852.
Fired by the tales of life and opportunities in the new El Dorado of the South, a number of residents of Yarmouth, N.S., bought the new packet schooner Brilliant, of 112 tons, to take them to Australia. The Brilliant sailed from Yarmouth on December 13th, 1852, and arrived at Melbourne on April 11th, 1853, via the Cape of Good Hope. She had twenty-six passengers, seven of whom were women. The undertaking of such a lengthy voyage in such a small vessel speaks volumes for the courage and hardihood of the Bluenose men and women of that day. When they wanted to make a shift, they made it in their own craft, and the monotony and hazards of months at sea deterred them not. Natural-born seafarers, they invariably reached the destination they headed for, and usually none the worse for the experience.
The year 1853 was one of tremendous activity in the ship-building yards of the four Provinces, and about 80 ships of between 1000 to 2000 tons were constructed during that period, in addition to a vast flotilla of smaller craft. It was a boom year, for in addition to the demand for ships in the Australian and New Zealand trades, there was also a call for transports to carry troops and supplies to the Crimea, where France and Great Britain were waging war with Russia.
The builders of Quebec and St. John vied with each other in the construction of large and fast ships, and some notable vessels were launched from the yards of both ports. Taking the New Brunswick ships first, one of the largest was the Guiding Star, of 2012 tons, built by W. and R. Wright, St. John. This vessel measured 233 feet in length between after-part of main stem and fore-part of stern on deck, 38 feet beam, and 22 feet 1 inch deep—a long but not a deep ship, and evidently built specially as a clipper for the Australian trade. She was chartered by James Beazley for £12,000 and placed on berth for Melbourne under the Golden Line flag. She did nothing noteworthy on her first round voyage. On her second voyage she left Liverpool, January 9th, 1855, with 480 passengers for Melbourne, and failed to arrive. It was thought that she collided with an iceberg in the Southern Ocean, a risk which was taken by the clipper captains in running their easting in high latitudes before the strong westerly winds which prevail between 40° and 60° South. After leaving Liverpool, the Guiding Star was sold for £8,050 by her owners, Miller and Thompson.
The finest New Brunswick ship of the year 1853, and for a good many years before and after that date, was the ship Star of the East, 1219 tons, also built by William and Richard Wright in their Courtenay Bay shipyard, St. John. Her dimensions were 204 feet 9 inches from after-part of main stem to fore-part of stern aloft; breadth amidships, 36 feet 6 inches; depth of hold amidships, 22 feet. Her dimensions would indicate that she was a sharp model and built specially for the Australian and Eastern trade. She had a round stern, and her stem-head was ornamented by a finely carved full-length female figure, and local authorities declare that she was the most costly clipper ship ever built in St. John yards.
The Wrights dispatched her to the Liverpool market, and it is stated that she arrived on March 5th, 1853, after a passage of 20 days from St. John, against strong N.E. winds. James Beazley bought her for the Golden Line, and she cost him £22,683 when ready for sea. Under the command of Captain Christian, she went out to Melbourne in 76 days. From the Australian port she went to Shanghai via Sydney, N.S.W., and coming home with the N.E. monsoon, made the passage back in 104 days, after wasting 4 days anchored off Gutztaff Island in a typhoon. The whole voyage occupied 9 months, 27 days, and she made a profit for her owners of £8,018 clear. She made a second voyage on the same round, and cleared £8,920.
Her spar draft, according to Lubbock’s Colonial Clippers, was as follows:—
Mainmast, extreme length, 84 feet; diameter, 41 inches. | ||
Maintopmast, extreme length, 53 feet; diameter, 19 inches. | ||
Maintopgallantmast, extreme length, 75 feet; diameter, 14 inches. | ||
Bowsprit and jib-boom, outboard | 55 | feet. |
Mainyard | 89 | ” |
Maintopsailyard | 70 | ” |
Maintopgallantyard | 52 | ” |
Mainroyalyard | 36 | ” |
Mainskysailyard | 27 | ” |
Sail area (studdingsails excepted) 5500 square yards. |
In those days, it must be remembered, ships carried the big single topsail and studdingsails even to the royals. It was not until about 1856 that Bluenose ships began to carry Forbes Patent Double Topsail Yards.
James Nevins, of St. John, built the ship Star of the South, 1252 tons, in 1853, which vessel was transferred to Liverpool and supposed to be a sister ship to the Star of the East. The dimensions of the former ship were 174 feet 6 inches in length, 33 feet 9 inches beam, and 23 feet deep, differing in every particular from the Star of the East.
A smart ship was the Mermaid, 1233 tons, built by John McDonald at St. John in 1853. Her measurements were 188 × 34 feet 3 inches × 22 feet 5 inches, and her figurehead was a mermaid. She was taken over by the Black Ball Line, and left Liverpool for Melbourne on May 3rd, 1854. The splendid American-built White Star clipper Red Jacket left the day following, also the New Brunswick-built Miles Barton. The Mermaid and Red Jacket were in company to the Line, but the White Star ship held to the westward and met with light airs and variable winds, while the Mermaid carried the wind with her, and was almost 1400 miles ahead of her rival on June 15th. The Red Jacket, a big, powerful 2500-ton ship, stood far to the southward to run her easting. Reaching 52° S. on June 30th, and booming along before stiff N.W. squalls for about 15 days, she made a splendid series of daily runs, and arrived off Port Philip Heads on July 12th, after a passage of 69 days. The Mermaid ran her easting down farther north, and arrived on July 17th, making a passage of 74 days, and beating the Miles Barton by 4 days.
In 1855, the Mermaid made a passage of 82 days to Melbourne, and another of 87 days in 1856. Carrying the mail homewards in 1856, she arrived in Liverpool 86 days out. In 1860, she was recorded as leaving Lyttelton, N.Z., for London.
Another fast vessel was the ship Neleus, 1117 tons, built by Walter Brown, who had a yard at the Strait Shore, St. John. The Neleus was launched in 1853, and was built of hackmatack, birch, pine, oak, and spruce. Her dimensions were 179·7 × 32·1 × 20·3 feet and Lloyd’s gave her a seven years’ class A.1. She loaded timber, and sailed for Liverpool under a “Governor’s Pass,” and was purchased by McCalmont Bros., and chartered to the Black Ball Line. She left Liverpool for Melbourne on October 5th, 1853, and arrived out on Christmas Eve, making the passage in 80 days.
Smith and Haws, St. John, built the big ship Golden Era, 1556 tons, in 1853. In 1856, she made a passage of 81 days to Melbourne under the flag of the White Star Line. Also under the White Star flag was the ship Mindoro, 1329 tons, built in the same year by Storm and King at their Marsh Creek yard, St. John. The Mindoro made a passage of 82 days to Melbourne in 1856, leaving Liverpool on April 22nd and arriving July 13th. Walter Brown, builder of the Neleus, also constructed the ship Oliver Lang, 1236 tons, which was bought by McCalmont Bros., Liverpool, and sailed under the Black Ball flag. Under Captain Manning, she left Liverpool May 5th, 1855, and arrived in Melbourne on July 31st, making the passage in 87 days. James Baines owned her in 1857. In 1859 she was broken up in Wellington, N.Z., after being blown ashore while lying to anchor there. It is reported that she made a passage from Wellington to England in 68 days.
At Hopewell Cape, New Brunswick, William Bennett and Sons built the ship Emma, 1049 tons. Her measurements were 182·3 × 31·6 × 21·7 feet, and she was classed seven years’ A.1. at Lloyd’s. Pilkington and Wilson bought her, and she was placed under the White Star flag. Leaving Liverpool on August 21st, 1855, she arrived in Melbourne on November 17th, making the passage in 88 days.
James Smith, builder of the Marco Polo, launched the 1427-ton ship Prince of the Seas in 1853. She loaded and proceeded under Governor’s Pass to Glasgow, but was afterwards in the White Star passenger-carrying fleet to Australia. James Nevins of St. John built the ship Sultana, 1308 tons, which was taken over by the Black Ball Line. She made her first voyage to Melbourne in 81 days. James Johnston, St. John, built the small ship Utopia, 949 tons, which was classed seven years’ A.1. at Lloyd’s and sold in Liverpool. In 1856 she was sailing between Liverpool and India. William Olive, of St. John, constructed the ship Queen of the East, 1186 tons, in 1853. In 1887, 34 years after, she was afloat, but sailing as a barque.
W. and R. Wright built the ship David G. Fleming, 1425 tons, and sent her to Liverpool. In that port, she was altered and her poop deck carried along the whole length of the ship, making her a three-decker. Thomas Hilyard built a large three-deck ship of 1768 tons, called the Clas-Merden, which also went to Liverpool in 1853. Other notable New Brunswick ships built in that year and which were sold in England are listed herewith: Bride of the Sea, 1344 tons; Bee, 1352 tons (a common timber ship); Brevet, 1279 tons; Eastern City, 1227 tons; Echunga, 1118 tons; Matoaka, 1323 tons; Wasp, 1339 tons; Parramatta, 1093 tons; Anglo-Saxon, 1222 tons; Cleopatra, 1004 tons; Trade Wind, 890 tons; Timandra, 1119 tons; Mooresfort, 1220 tons; Tasmania, 1194 tons, and many others.
Thomas Conrad Lee, one of the leading ship-builders in Quebec, determined to begin constructing large ships of clipper design along the lines and in the method practised in the best American shipyards. He went down to New York and engaged the services of William Power as chief designer and superintendent of his yard. Under Power’s management, in 1853, the Lee yard built and launched the big clipper ship Arthur the Great, of 1602 tons. This vessel was 210 feet in length, 35 feet beam, and 21 feet 9 inches deep, and received Lloyd’s highest class for British North American ships. This ship was credited with some fine passages, but, unfortunately, I have not been able to secure authentic records. She was owned by Somes Bros., of London, in 1857, and was chartered by the Government as a London transport during the Indian Mutiny. The only passage I have so far been able to credit her was one from Bombay to London in 83 days.
Designed by William Power and built at Lee’s yard in the same year was the ship Shooting Star, 1518 tons, 201·6 × 35·2 × 22·2 feet, two decks, built of tamarack, elm, oak and spruce, iron-fastened, and classed A.1. for seven years at Lloyd’s. She was bought by McCalmont Bros., of Liverpool, and is said to have made the passage from Quebec to Liverpool in the exceptionally fast time of 14 days. In 1854, a contemporary chronicler credits her with having made one of the fastest passages on record between Portsmouth and Malta, and another to Australia, neither of which I am able to authenticate. In 1865, she was owned by J. and T. Johnson, Runcorn, England.
Another smart Quebec ship was the Boomerang, 1823 tons, 204·2 × 36·3 × 28·7 feet, built of oak, tamarack and spruce by Theophile St. Jean, a well-known French-Canadian shipwright, classed seven years’ A.1. at Lloyd’s, and launched in the spring of 1853. She was sent to Liverpool, and bought by James Baines, and placed under the flag of the Black Ball Line. Also bought by James Baines was the ship Saldanha, 1562 tons, built by John Nesbitt at Quebec. Pierre Valin built the ship Carpentaria, 1460 tons, which was also sold in Liverpool.
A large ship of 1853 was the Persia, 2002 tons, 205 × 35·5 × 31·3 feet, built by Geo. H. Parke. The ship Glendalough, 1077 tons, built by H. N. Jones in 1853 and owned by S. R. Graves, Liverpool, was a British Government transport during the Crimean War, but was wrecked near Sebastopol.
Of the smaller vessels launched in Quebec that season, mention can be made of the Rock City, 597 tons, designed by Wm. Power and built at Lee’s yard. A contemporary writer states that “she outsailed the American clipper Fleetwing on a passage from Anjer to New York by 14 days, and only last year (1856) beat another clipper ship on a voyage from Shanghai to New York by 20 days.” The Rock City was 156 × 28·5 × 18·3 feet.
William Power was undoubtedly a designer of skill. Later on he went into business for himself in Quebec. The models of his ships were afterwards exhibited at the Paris Exhibition of the ’fifties by Mr. Lee, and gained a first-class medal.
Neither of the sea-girt Provinces seems to have shared much in the ship-building prosperity of New Brunswick and Quebec as far as the construction of large and noteworthy ships is concerned. Francis Bourneuf, at Belliveau’s Cove, N.S., built a large 1670-ton ship called the Hotspur, in 1853, for St. John account, and she was transferred to Liverpool. In Charlottetown, P.E.I., Samuel Duncan built a large craft for that place—the 1361-ton ship Gertrude. During the Indian Mutiny, in 1857, she was engaged as a Liverpool transport. These two craft were the largest built in Nova Scotia and P.E.I. in 1853, all others were below 1000 tons.
William and Richard Wright launched the largest Canadian-built vessel, up to that time, when the clipper ship White Star took the water of Courtenay Bay, St. John, in 1854. This ship was 288 feet over all, 258·6 feet stem to stern, 40 feet beam amidships inside measurement, and 28 feet deep. She was of mixed wood construction, iron-fastened with iron knees and straps, three decks, and registered 2339 tons. Her stern was round and her stem was ornamented with a carved male figure. Her draught was 24 feet loaded. The order for her was given by Pilkington and Wilson, of Liverpool, and she was intended for the White Star Line’s Australian service. She arrived at the English port on December 1st, 1854, after a fast passage of 15 days from St. John, against strong head winds.
Her first voyage from Liverpool to Melbourne, under Capt. J. R. Brown, was made in 79 days, and she came home in 88 days, with 80,000 ounces of gold, arriving November 27th, 1855. In 1856, she made the passage in 75 days (67 days land to land) and returned in 76 days, beating the steam auxiliary Royal Charter by 10 days, port to port. According to Lubbock’s Colonial Clippers, she was one of the fastest ships afloat. In 1858, she made the best White Star Line passage of the year by going out in 72 days. In 1860, she left Melbourne on February 25th, and 65 days later signalled off Cape Clear, Ireland. In the same year, the White Star almost equalled Marco Polo’s record passage when she ran out to Melbourne in 69 days. Between the Cape of Good Hope and Melbourne, the White Star ran 3306 miles of easting in 10 days, an average day’s run of 330 miles. In 1861 she arrived at Melbourne from Hong Kong with 1088 Chinese labourers. She was then chartered to carry 60,000 sheep from Australia to New Zealand.
This big St. John-built ship remained in service until she was wrecked in 1883.
James Nevins, of St. John, built the ship Shalimar, of 1557 tons, in 1854. She was a mixed wood ship, iron-fastened and with two decks, iron knees, and bow ports. Her dimensions were 195·8 × 35·2 × 23 feet. T. E. Milledge, of St. John, owned her and when she arrived in Liverpool on her first voyage the White Star Line bought her. Lubbock tells us that she sailed for Hobson’s Bay on November 22nd, 1854, was off Cape Northumberland in 67 days, but owing to head winds took another 10 days to reach her port. She came home in 75 days, with passengers and 42,000 ounces of gold, and made the round trip, including 45 days’ detention in port, in the good time of 6 months and 14 days. It was stated in a contemporary newspaper account that she ran 420 miles in 24 hours on one occasion during her outward passage, but details are lacking. In 1855 she went out to Melbourne in 88 days.
The Morning Star, 1534 tons, was built by Francis and Joseph Ruddock in ’54 at their Strait Shore yard, St. John. She was 204·4 × 35·5 × 22·6 feet, iron-fastened, two decks, bow ports, square stern, and had a female figurehead. She was bought by Fernie Bros., and sailed in the Red Cross Line to Australia. Leaving Liverpool on September 6th, 1854, she arrived in Melbourne on November 20th, after a passage of 75 days. She was afloat until 1879, when she foundered on a passage from Samarang to England.
The ship Anne Wilson, 1119 tons, built in St. John in 1854, and owned by Pilkington and Wilson, Liverpool, sailed in the Australian emigrant fleet.
The Australian trade and the Crimean Transport Service gave New Brunswick builders a great incentive to build ships. Liverpool and London brokers were rapacious for commissions, and were urging Canadian shipwrights to build, build, build. As much as £12 per ton was paid for uncoppered British North American ships in Liverpool, and small yards which heretofore had launched nothing larger than a 500 tonner began building ships of a thousand tons and more, borrowing the money at high interest in order to finance construction. Times were booming, and the ship-building centres like St. John and Quebec were launching so many big vessels that it became a commonplace happening, and a corporal’s guard would not muster to see a 1500-ton ship take the water.
In the quiet coves and creeks of all the four Provinces, vessels were being constructed almost in the forests. Little in the way of plant was required. A saw-mill, a good blacksmith outfit, and a gang of men handy with axe, adze, and auger, and a foreman shipwright formed the basis of a yard. No blue-prints were used in framing the ships. The foreman shipwright took off his lines from a small wooden half-model previously prepared by himself or some old sea captain who had skill in “whittlin’ out an able vessel.”
Of course, the older-established and better-equipped yards built the largest ships, but a good many barques and ships of from 500 to 700 tons were built “in a saw-mill yard” or on the beach in spots remote from the cities.
An idea of the ship-building boom which existed in 1854 can be gained from the fact that 40 ships, ranging from 1000 to 2339 tons, were launched from St. John and other New Brunswick yards during the year, while the number of smaller craft would run to the hundreds. Practically every one of the larger ships went to Liverpool to be sold, and many of them were taken up by the prominent lines for the Australian trade or chartered for Crimean transports.
Of this flotilla we can mention but a few. Many of them had noteworthy careers and made notable passages, but the records are lost. One ship, the Conquest, built by Betts in Albert County, N.B., and owned by John Purdy, St. John, is said to have made the record passage of 13 days, dock to dock, from St. John to Liverpool, but the details are lacking. A real clipper ship called the Sunny South, of 1196 tons, copper-fastened, and of sharp model, was built by Daniel Forbes at Dorchester, N.B. Her life was short, as she foundered at sea in 1856 during a voyage from Akyab to England. It would be worth knowing if she made any fast trips, for it is fully evident that she was built for speed.
Quebec shipyards did not turn out as many big ships in 1854 as did the New Brunswickers, but times were booming there, nevertheless. One of the largest and finest vessels of the year was the ship Lord Raglan, 1888 tons, built by Jean Elie Gingras. She was a vessel of medium model and was sold in Liverpool. Horatio N. Jones built the ship Tudor, 1786 tons, which was taken over for transport duty to the Crimea by Samuel R. Graves, of Liverpool. Gingras also built the ship Empress, of 1689 tons, in 1854. A number of other large ships were built and sold in Liverpool for the Australian and Indian trades.
As an instance of the times and the demand for ships, we might mention that the Ocean Monarch, of 1887 tons, during the building at Baldwin and Dinning’s yard, Quebec, was purchased, while on the stocks and half finished, for the price of $53 per ton. She realised over $100,000, and her builders were said to have made a clear profit of $20,000 on her.
Henry Fry, Lloyd’s Agent in Quebec, and a prominent ship-owner, writes of the local ship-building in 1854:—
“There was a boom in ship-building. Everyone that could raise or borrow money rushed into ship-building. The scene in Quebec yards on a fine winter’s day was then a very animated one. The songs of the French-Canadian shipwrights when raising frames or carrying planks, the whir of the saws, the blows of the mallets, and the vim of the men, all working with a will, were very pleasant to the eye or the ear of the onlooker.”
In the summer of 1854, Quebec launched fifty large ships and the business gave employment to fully five thousand men, whose families represented nearly one-half the population of the Ancient City and Levis.
But the building of ships for the Liverpool market was overdone. The English docks were crowded with vessels for sale, and before the year closed there was a slump, with owners trying to sell out for what they could get. The price of British North American ships fell to £7 per ton. Then came the failure of W. Edward Oliver, of Liverpool, a large dealer in Quebec ships, and many Quebec ship-builders suffered heavy losses.
Captain George McKenzie, of New Glasgow, N.S., built the ship Magna Charta, 1466 tons, and the largest ship thus far built in Nova Scotia. She was 215 feet keel and not so deep as the large vessels formerly built by McKenzie, but she had more beam and was very sharp forward and aft. She was a very superior vessel, and constructed entirely of hackmatack and pitch pine. In the winter of 1856-7, she sailed from Liverpool for the West Coast of South America with a cargo made up largely of paving-stones and other heavy material, and was never heard of again. A Pictou County man, Forest Graham, was second mate of her.
Captain McKenzie also built the following vessels in 1854: Alma, 1108 tons, Sebastopol, 992 tons, and Meteor Flag, 591 tons.
Leading builders in Nova Scotia in 1854 were C. H. Dakin, Digby; E. J. Budd, Digby; Benjamin Richards, Argyle; Edward Everitt, St. Mary’s Bay; Joseph Jeffery, Yarmouth; Gilbert Bent, Granville; James Lovitt, St. Mary’s Bay; William Henry Jenkins, Beaver River; Robert Sims, Argyle; Bennett Smith, Windsor; Charles W. Berteaux, Cornwallis; Nicholas Mosher, Newport; Levi W. Eaton, River John; Ebenezer and Henry Mosely, La Have. Budd, of Digby, built the ship John Owens, 1166 tons, for St. John parties, which was the second largest ship of the year in Nova Scotia. Richards, of Argyle, built the barque Grace, 1092 tons, for Yarmouth owners, and she was the largest vessel built and owned in the county up to that time. The Grace was copper-fastened below the draught line, and measured 172·8 × 32·2 × 20·8 feet.
For many years before and after the year under review, Halifax merchants and ship-owners maintained a considerable fleet of fast clipper schooners, brigantines, brigs, barques, and ships in the Mediterranean, the West Indian, and South American trades. Most of these were vessels of small tonnage, but some remarkably speedy passages were made by them, and, like the celebrated “fruiter” which used to run from the West Indies to British and American ports, records were so common with them that it failed to be a matter of comment.
Such a clipper was the barque Stag, of 209 tons, which is credited with having made the run from Halifax to the equator on two occasions in 21 and 21½ days—a record. But, like most of the passage runs ascribed to British North American ships, it is impossible to verify them by ship’s log or contemporary newspaper accounts. All that I can say is that the Stag’s records were made in the period between 1854 and 1860.
The Stag was designed by Ebenezer Mosely, and built by him and his brother Henry at La Have, Lunenburg Co., N.S., in 1854 for John Strachan, merchant, of Halifax. Her register gives her length from inner part of main stem to fore-part of stern as 103·8 feet; breadth amidships 22·4 feet; depth in hold amidships 12·6 feet. She had a square stern, was barque-rigged with single topsails, and carried lower and topmast studdingsails. Her picture, under sail, was painted by John O’Brien, a well-known Halifax marine artist of that time, and shows a remarkably handsome and clipper-looking vessel. She was commanded by Captain George A. Mackenzie. On January 15th, 1855, she was sold to John Esson and her master. In 1859 or 1860, while under command of Captain Ettinger, she was wrecked at Bermuda. I am giving these particulars about her because she was undoubtedly an unusually fast vessel, and there is a possibility that, tucked away in some dusty attic or stowed among ancient family relics, a log-book or such record of her voyages may one day be found.
There was another barque Stag, built in 1865 by Hall at Sheet Harbour, N.S., for Robert Boak and Son, Halifax. It is claimed that she was much faster than the original Stag. This later vessel was of 334 tons, and engaged in the fruit trade from the Mediterranean and general transatlantic freighting. It was alleged that she once made a very fast passage from the Mediterranean to New York with fruit. The Stag and another clipper were loading at the same time, and the Stag’s master, Captain Anderson, was offered $1000 if his vessel beat the rival packet, which she did. Details, however, are lacking. The second Stag was also credited with a passage from Newfoundland to England in six days. She was much faster at sailing than in making money for her owner.
Six barques of between 500 and 600 tons were built in P.E.I. during 1854. The largest was the barque Paxton, 615 tons, built by N. H. and J. C. Pope, Bedeque.
The year 1855 saw a decided slump in the building of large ships in Canada. The output of ships over 1000 tons in New Brunswick dropped to 12 vessels, but the Quebec shipyards built about 18 and exceeded her sister province in construction. New Brunswick, however, drew worldwide attention to herself when the big ship Morning Light was launched.
W. and R. Wright, of St. John, built the ship Morning Light in 1855. At the time of her launch she was the largest ship built in British North America, and held that honour until 1874, when she was eclipsed by the big Nova Scotiaman W. D. Lawrence. The Morning Light was 264 feet long, 43·8 feet beam, and drew 25 feet of water loaded. She registered 2377 tons, had two decks and was of mixed wood construction and iron-fastened. The American Bureau of Shipping, however, only classed her as an A.2. vessel. But, at the time of her launch, an American paper observed:—
“The New Brunswickers have abundant reason to be proud of their feats in ship-building, and we are now saying a good deal, but not a word too much, in favour of the ship Morning Light, lately launched at St. John. She is said to be the finest and most expensive ship ever built in British North America.”
She was sent to Liverpool and taken over by the Black Ball Line and placed on the berth for Melbourne. Leaving Liverpool on July 6th, 1856, she arrived in Melbourne on September 17th, making the passage in 73 days—the second best outward passage of the year, and exceeded only by the American clipper ship Lightning’s run out of 69 days two months previously.
The Morning Light was afterwards sold to the Germans and renamed J. W. Wendt. In 1889, she left Bremen for New York on February 21st with a general cargo. On March 22nd she got ashore three miles north of Barnegat, New Jersey, and became a total loss after 34 years of seafaring.
The two brothers, William and Richard Wright, began life with little else, according to a contemporary writer, than a good character, industrious habits, and a determination to go ahead and succeed. In 1855, uprightness, ability, and perseverance brought them to the head of the ship-builders of the Eastern Provinces. In 1825, they were serving their time with George Thompson, a ship-builder of St. John. In 1837 they started their yard at the head of Courtenay Bay and built a small whaling vessel. This was the start of a great fleet of notable ships—many of which became celebrated in the Australian trade for their fast passages. When they launched the Morning Light, which they owned largely themselves, they gave up ship-building at St. John and moved to Liverpool, England, where they owned, operated, and dealt in ships. When iron and steel superseded wood, they ceased connections with St. John and operated iron ships. In 1887, they owned the iron ships Duchess of Albany, 1746 tons, Duchess of Argyle, 1699 tons, the Douglas, 1428 tons, etc., British-built and sailing out of Liverpool. They were very successful and left quite an estate.
Alex. Sime at Lancaster, N.B., built the big ship Lillies, 1665 tons, in 1855. Thompson and Stackhouse, St. John, built the ship Bencoolen, 1500 tons, for Gibbs, Bright and Co., Liverpool. James Nevins built the fine A.1. ship Florence Nightingale, 1515 tons, for Brocklebanks, of Liverpool, and she went into the Calcutta and Australian trades. Another St. John-built ship of 1855 was the Shepherdess, owned by the White Star Line. A little schooner of 60 tons called the Go-ask-her was built in St. John this year.
Quebec shipyards built quite a number of large ships in 1855, the largest being the Acadia, of 2030 tons, built by Geo. H. Parke. Oak was still being used as the principal material in the construction of many Quebec vessels. Yarmouth, N.S., ship-owners had five barques of between 500 and 600 tons built for them in 1855, the Robert Hastie, 646 tons, being the largest. These vessels were placed on charter in various North Atlantic trades, and were invariably commanded and officered by Nova Scotians.
During the year, a full-rigged ship, the Eliza Mary, of 621 tons, was built for Robert Gaskin of Quebec by J. Counter at Kingston, Ontario.
The ship City of Toronto, 168 feet long, and of 1000 tons burden, was built by Messrs. Hayes Bros. and Co., in their shipyard on Front Street, opposite Queen’s Hotel, Toronto; launched April 3, 1855, and sailed from Toronto for Liverpool in August, with passengers and a cargo of walnut. She was intended for the timber trade between Quebec and Liverpool. In the autumn of 1856 she was totally wrecked on the coast of Nova Scotia. Several square-rigged vessels were built on the Lakes for ocean trading.
During the ’fifties a number of Nova Scotians of Scottish birth or ancestry emigrated to New Zealand in vessels which they built themselves. The district of Waipu, on the east coast of the North Island of New Zealand, and about 75 miles north of Auckland, was settled by emigrants from Nova Scotia. The vessels which brought the settlers from Canada to the South Pacific colony were as follows: barque Margaret, 236 tons, sailed in 1851 via Adelaide and arrived New Zealand in 1852; brig Highland Lassie, 179 tons, arrived 1852; brig Gertrude, 217 tons, arrived 1856; brigantine Spray, 99 tons, arrived 1857; barque Breadalbane, 250 tons, arrived 1858; barque Ellen Lewis, 336 tons, arrived 1860.
The Rev. Norman McLeod, formerly of Pictou, N.S., built the Margaret at St. Ann’s, Victoria County, Cape Breton, and sailed in her for Australia and New Zealand back in the ’fifties.[5]
The Carleton (St. John, N.B.) Sentinel, of June, 1856, ran the following advertisement regarding sailings for New Zealand: “For New Zealand, should sufficient inducement offer, a vessel will be laid on berth for the above islands to sail in August next. For terms of freight and passage apply to Stewart and McLean, Ship-brokers, St. John.”
The brig Gertrude, mentioned above, sailed from Cape Breton on June 25th, 1856, via the Cape of Good Hope and Sydney, and arrived at Auckland on December 17th. She had 190 passengers, a woman and child dying on the voyage. There was some scurvy among the emigrants, who were met by relatives who had arrived in New Zealand previously. The Gertrude’s owner and family were on board.
The Wellington Independent of December 10th, 1868, published the following item:
“We are informed by Capt. Scott, the inward pilot, that the brigantine which has been for the last three or four days anchored off the Heads has proceeded to Otago. Her name is the Emulous, Capt. Cumminger, from Halifax, N.S. There are 53 passengers on board, and the vessel is owned by the captain and 11 others. All on board, with their wives and families, came out to settle in New Zealand. They had a very fair passage of 103 days to the Auckland Heads.”
It appears that when the emigrants sailed from Nova Scotia they had no definite idea as to what part of New Zealand they would settle in, and only decided on Otago when lying wind-bound off the Heads.
See Appendix. |
In 1856, Quebec shipyards turned out the largest number of ships during the year, but the output was below that of the boom times. The Gladiator, 1501 tons, built by George H. Parke, was the largest Quebecker of the year.
In New Brunswick, the ship Tam o’ Shanter, 1430 tons, was built at St. John. She was purchased by Gibbs, Bright and Co., Liverpool, and her name changed to Elizabeth Ann Bright, and she sailed in the Black Ball Line. James Baines, of the latter company, afterwards amalgamated with Gibbs, Bright and Co. The Oceanica, a three-deck ship of 1673 tons, was built in St. John for W. and R. Wright—now engaged in ship-owning in Liverpool. The ship Uncas, 1320 tons, was built in St. John for Fernie Bros. and Co., Liverpool, also the ship Athenais, 984 tons, for the Black Ball Line. This vessel was taken across to England by Captain John Delaney, an Englishman who featured as the leading spirit in the treasure hunt undertaken by the St. John pilot boat Rechab in the fall of 1850. Delaney had been sailing out of Halifax before coming to St. John, and the story goes that on a certain voyage one of his crew became mortally ill, and before dying confided to Captain Delaney that he had been a pirate in his younger days. The usual story of buried treasure on a barren West Indian island followed. Years afterwards, Captain Delaney told the story to the pilots of the Rechab, and the result was that pilots and a pilot boat slipped out of St. John one day and fetched up off Sand Cay, one of the Turk Islands. After fruitless searching by divining rods and shovels, the party gave the whole thing up and swung off for home. In the Bay of Fundy they saw the only noteworthy sight of the whole voyage when an ancient British ship, called the William and Ann, passed them bound across with lumber. This vessel had been built in 1759, had carried General Wolfe to Quebec, and was for 50 years a bomb ship in the British Navy. Then for 40 years she was a Greenland whaler, and finally, in 1850, after 91 years of seafaring, she was droghing deals out of St. John. Captain Delaney commanded many ships out of St. John, and finally died at sea.
The ship Calista Hawes, 1124 tons, was built in St. John in 1856 for Richard C. Hawes, of Liverpool. In September, 1881, while bound from New York to Trieste with a cargo of case oil, she sprang a leak off Seal Island, N.S. As soon as the ship began leaking, the crew refused to work the pumps, and to prevent being forced to take the vessel across the Atlantic in her leaky condition, they set her on fire and abandoned her. When they landed at Shelburne, N.S., the master had them arrested and put in jail. I have no record of what happened to them afterwards.
Quebec still maintained the lead in ship construction, but most of the ships built were below 1000 tons. George H. Parke again built the largest vessel of the year in the Black Eagle, 1558 tons, a ship of medium model, three decks, built of oak and hard wood, and copper- and iron-fastened. A ship of 982 tons called the Pladda was built at Quebec by Cotnam for Patrick Henderson’s Albion Line of Glasgow—New Zealand emigrant traders.
New Brunswick’s largest ship of 1857 was the Harmonides, 1564 tons, built in St. John and owned by J. and R. Reed, St. John. The Harmonides was fitted up for passengers, and made several voyages between England and Melbourne. This vessel was lost in the Bay of Fundy in 1878, while bound from St. John to Havre. John S. Parker, who had a shipyard at Tynemouth Creek, St. John, built the ship John Parker, 1339 tons, for William Vaughan. Although a large number of ships were still being built for sale abroad or to orders of British owners, yet, by this time, many vessels were being built and operated by Canadians. The trade in deals and timber of all descriptions afforded a sure cargo to the eastward, and cargoes of steam coal, railway iron, and such-like materials could always be secured for the westward passage.
In Nova Scotia, Yarmouth was building up a considerable fleet of vessels of larger tonnage, and seven ships and barques ranging from 500 to 800 tons were built in Nova Scotia for Yarmouth owners in 1857. One of the vessels launched in 1857 for Yarmouth owners was the barque El Dorado, 638 tons. In 1859, while bound from Caldera, Chile, for Hamburg, with a cargo of copperas and silver ore, she was wrecked on the Terschelling Banks, and her pilot drowned. It will thus be seen that Canadian-built, owned, and officered ships were beginning to cut into the world’s carrying trade. Up to this time, Yarmouth and other Nova Scotian craft were engaged in freighting fish and lumber to various ports in the West Indies and bringing back cargoes of salt, molasses, mahogany, and sugar to North American ports. They also carried deals across to Ireland and Great Britain, returning in ballast or with coal cargoes, pig iron, rails, scrap iron, etc., to the coast of North America. But up to 1860 no large ships were being operated by Canadians save a few at St. John. The real Bluenose fleet was in the making.
Quebec still maintained the lead in building ships in 1858, though the business was far behind the output of earlier years. One notable ship was the Lancashire Witch, 1574 tons, built by Lomas and Sewell. In 1887 she was still afloat under the Peruvian flag and owned by Grace Bros. and Co., Lima. George H. Parke built the ship Black Hawk, 1558 tons, a ship of medium model, hard-wood construction and iron- and copper-fastened. She was bought by Irish owners. Another ship of medium model launched in 1858 was the General Neil, 970 tons, built by Edward Trahan for J. H. Watt, Glasgow.
A fine ship of 1461 tons called the Great Northerner was built in 1858 on the Miramichi of hard wood, and copper- and iron-fastened. She was bought by Fernie Bros., Liverpool. In 1869, she was lost off Bombay and sixteen of her crew were drowned. The White Star Line bought the ship Blue Jacket (No. 2), 986 tons, built by McLaughlin, St. John, and she was placed in the Australian trade.
In Nova Scotia, Captain McKenzie, of New Glasgow, built the Wm. Kidston, 798 tons, for his own fleet, and a ship of medium model, called the Princess Royal, 959 tons, was also built in Pictou in 1858. But the largest vessel to be built in the Maritime Provinces this year was the big ship Ethel, of 1795 tons, built by Samuel Duncan at Charlottetown, Prince Edward Island. This vessel had three decks, was iron-fastened, and measured 240 × 38 × 23 feet draught. She was registered in Liverpool, and claims the distinction of being the largest ship constructed in the Island province.
No particularly large vessels were launched in Quebec during 1859, about a dozen vessels ranging from 500 to 1300 tons being constructed. In the fall of this year and the winter of 1860, shipwrights were working for 50 cents a day, which was a considerable drop from the four dollars per day earned by them in the boom times of 1850-1854. Some builders with capital took advantage of the low wages and built ships and operated them while awaiting a favourable opportunity to sell, or took a chance and sent them across to Great Britain. Many lay to an anchor in the rivers there, and were often sold below cost.
New Brunswick did rather better this year, finding a market in Liverpool for some large ships. The Wrights had the ship Empire of Peace, 1540 tons, built for them in St. John by either Nevins or McLaughlin. Nevins also built the ship Dawn of Hope, 1215 tons, for W. and R. Wright, Liverpool, and she was placed in the Australian trade. She was lost in 1863 coming from Bombay, and all hands vanished. James Smith, St. John, built the ship Sir John Mandeville, 1379 tons, for Rathbone Bros., Liverpool, and the same firm bought the ship Canova, 1318 tons, built by F. and J. Ruddock, St. John. A large ship of 1366 tons, called the Merrie Monarch, was built by James H. Moran at St. Martins, N.B., and operated by Moran, Galloway and Co., St. John. The ship Annabella, 844 tons, built at Campbellton, N.B., was also owned in New Brunswick. As in Quebec, so it was in New Brunswick—wages were low and only those with capital could afford to build. But those Canadians who could take advantage of the low cost of building ships and who could afford to operate the vessels themselves generally did very well.
The ship Prince Consort, 1236 tons, built by John Nesbitt, Quebec, in 1859, was engaged in the Australian trade. On May 29th, 1864, under the command of Capt. Atcheson, she left Brisbane, Queensland, for Newcastle, N.S.W., to land some 400 tons of railway iron, part of her original cargo from London. When off Nobby’s Head Light, the captain stood his ship off and drifted down the coast as the weather was too bad to enter Newcastle. For three days he drifted down the coast, and on June 12th, when off Cronulla, the wind died away, while the ground swell carried the vessel towards the high range of cliffs to the southward. In spite of both anchors being let go, she continued to drift. The topmasts were cut away to ease her, as she was riding very heavily, and the anchors held for a space until the starboard cable parted and the mainmast went over the side, carrying two boats with it. The ship was then abandoned, and the crew of twenty-seven were picked up a few hours later by the Illawarra Co.’s S.S. Hunter, which also made an effort to tow the Prince Consort, but not having the proper towing gear, the attempt was given up. The Hunter proceeded to Sydney, where the S.S. Kembla was supplied with tow lines and sent down to get the abandoned ship. In the meantime, the S.S. Woniora had arrived on the scene, and she placed her chief officer and one seaman aboard the derelict until she could return. However, before she could do so, the Kembla arrived, got her hawsers aboard, and succeeded in towing the Prince Consort to Sydney. The owners of the Woniora disputed the Kembla’s claim to salvage, and took the matter to the Admiralty Court, but with small satisfaction.
Up to this time, Nova Scotian builders did not construct ships for the British market to any extent, and the sea-girt Province was far in the wake of Quebec and New Brunswick in turning out a numerous fleet of big ships. But the Nova Scotians were commencing to build larger vessels to be operated by themselves, and each year saw an increasing fleet of home-owned Nova Scotiamen built in Yarmouth and Digby Counties, in Pictou and in Hants. Yarmouth, Pictou, Windsor, Hantsport, Maitland, and other ports were building up a flotilla of little ships and barques, commanded and officered by native seamen, which, at that time, were beginning to create a distinctive name for themselves.
In 1859, William D. Lawrence, of Maitland, built the little barque Persia, of 441 tons, which he owned himself. Her dimensions were 125 × 27 × 14 feet, and she cost him at launching the sum of £2600. In the course of five years she stocked £10,000 outside of her insurance and expenses, and she sold in 1864 for £1400, netting her owner a profit of £8800.
During the year under review, Bennett Smith at Windsor built the ship Island Home, 750 tons, for himself, and she was the forerunner of a fine fleet of notable craft later constructed and operated by him. Ezra Churchill of Hantsport built the ship Ann Eliza, 717 tons, and she too was among the first of a fine fleet of merchant ships under the Churchill flag. These three men—Lawrence, Smith, and Churchill—afterwards became leading Nova Scotia builders and owners.
Where lifting white its stately shape,
The light-house keeps a star—
There Commerce stands, brown hand on hip,
And laughs a welcome to the ship.
Anon.
To vary the monotony of ship history, it might be well here to make the reader acquainted with the operations and personalities of the men who built the old wooden ships. Taking Quebec first, I will sketch out something of the builders and the ship-building record of the port.
Ship-building in the Province of Quebec was practically confined to Quebec City and its environs—Levis, Cap Blanc, Wolfe’s Cove, Sillery, St. Roch, Isle of Orleans, etc. On the banks of the St. Charles River, many shipyards were located, and, oddly enough, a local chronicler makes precisely the same remark about that location as did another writer when referring to the Marsh Creek at St. John. “It is a wonder how the beautiful ships can be launched in such a narrow channel and safely extricated from it when launched.”
John Munn was one of the earliest ship-builders in Quebec, and built the ship United Kingdom, of 1267 tons, in 1839—a very large vessel for those days. Some of the finest ships in British North America were built by him up to the ’fifties. In 1847-1850, he became interested in steamers, and built the river steamboats John Munn, Quebec, and Rowland Hill, and operated them between Quebec and Montreal. They were not a financial success, however, and so impoverished Munn that he died a comparatively poor man.
Allan Gilmour began ship-building at Wolfe’s Cove around 1831. He was also an extensive exporter of timber, and was connected with the firms of Gilmour and Pollock, Glasgow, and Rankin, Gilmour and Co., Liverpool, ship-owners and timber merchants. In the boom times of the ’fifties, as many as 1000 men were employed around Gilmour’s yards in handling timber and building ships. Captain John Dick superintended the building of Gilmour’s ships, many of which were of oak and other hard woods. In Gilmour’s yard, ships were salted on the stocks, the hackmatack frames being sprayed with brine to harden them, and a lump of rock salt placed on top of the timbers to be dissolved by the rain. The tree-nails of locust wood were also immersed in pickling vats. As many as four ships of large tonnage were built at one time in Gilmour’s yard.
George Holmes Parke commenced building ships around 1835, and during the ’fifties he launched some vessels of large tonnage. Parke was a great horseman and an expert driver, and was a leading light in the Quebec Tandem Club, while his horses often raced on the course of the Quebec Turf Club.
Horatio Nelson Jones had a shipyard on the north bank of the St. Charles capable of building three large ships at one time. He began operations in 1837. The Jones yard in the ’fifties was very complete, and a fulsome biographer of that time relates: “He has every requisite for ship-building on his premises. Blacksmiths’ and joiners’ shops, riggers’ and other lofts, steam saw-mill, his own residence and numerous dwellings for his workmen. He is equipped with a Daniel’s Planer able to plane logs or deals, oak, pine, fir, etc., of 42 inches in width, tree-nail turners, etc., all managed and controlled by Mr. William Simons, the superintendent, who is a native of Greenock in Scotland, and one of the most skilful and active ship-builders in British North America. A forge of five fires is rapping out morning and evening, patent trusses, iron tillers, wrought-iron caps, hoops for masts, and everything except anchors.” Jones built many ships for Samuel R. Graves, M.P., Liverpool.
Pierre Vincent Valin was born in 1827 at Château Richer, Quebec. When a young man he served in a shipyard, and commenced building for himself in 1848. Later, he employed many men and built a number of large ships. In the ’seventies he built and owned many ships and operated them in the East Indian trade. Valin was a man of great energy, and it was stated of him that he was his own architect, builder, clerk, seller, consignee, and operator. In the course of his business, he crossed the Atlantic sixty times. He acquired some competence with his industry, and was very philanthropic. Entering politics, he became Member of Parliament for Montmorency.
Another noted French-Canadian ship-builder was Jean Elie Gingras, who was born in Quebec in 1804 of humble parentage. Brought up around the shipping quarter at Diamond Harbour, he set to work at an early age with but a limited education. At Black’s shipyard, where the Royal William was built, he learned the trade of ship carpentry, and eventually became Black’s foreman. Engaging in business for himself, he built many notable vessels, his first large ship being the Westminster, 1262 tons, launched 1853, and acquired considerable wealth and influence. He was elected to civic honours and also to the Quebec Trinity House. In 1864, he was elected a member of the Quebec Legislative Council. But during the decline of wooden ship-building, Mr. Gingras lost heavily, and retired with but a remnant of his once large fortune.
Pierre Brunelle was a French-Canadian, who had the name of turning out ships of excellent model and workmanship. Mr. Coker, Lloyd’s agent in Quebec, has stated that he had seen work done in Brunelle’s shipyard quite equal to any done in the Royal Dock-yards, while Captain Orkney, of Greenock, who commanded the ship Brunelle, one of Brunelle’s vessels, declared that she was one of the fastest sailing vessels afloat and he had seen her logging fourteen knots many times. Brunelle, however, died a poor man, as did most of those engaged in ship-building in Quebec.
Very few of the ship-builders had any capital, and they were dependent upon capitalists to advance funds. The commissions charged were very heavy—5 per cent. on advances, with 7 per cent. per annum interest; for selling the ship, the commission charged was 4 per cent.; for procuring freight, the charge was 2½ per cent., and for collecting it, 2½ per cent. Ships often lay for months in Liverpool awaiting sale, and were then sold on credit and time payments. It was a poor business in the long run, and those who made money during the boom times lost all they made when the slump set in.
Baldwin and Dinning were one of the largest ship-building firms in Quebec. William Henry Baldwin in 1846 took over the shipyard of George Black at Cape Cove, where the Royal William was built. Henry Dinning became his partner later, and the firm built many large ships. In 1866 they had five ships on the stocks at one time. James Goudie, a Clyde Scotsman who had superintended the building of the Royal William, was naval architect and superintendent of the yard.
A celebrated ship-builder of later years was George Taylor Davie. He was the son of Captain Alison Davie, who married a Miss Taylor, daughter of George Taylor, a Quebec ship-builder who built the 18-gun brig Kingfisher in 1827. Davie had a yard and slip at Levis, which are still in operation. The last square-rigged ship constructed in Quebec—the Titanic, 1405 tons—was launched by him in May, 1887.
Mention has already been made of Thomas Conrad Lee and William Power, the designer Lee brought from New York. Other prominent builders were Narcisse Rosa, William G. Russell, John I. Nesbitt, T. H. Oliver, Hyppolite Dubord, Edouard Trahan, William Cotnam, E. F. St. Jean, G. Lamelin, James Jeffery, Edward Oliver, W. Charland, McKay and Warner, J. E. Samson, E. Sewell, F. X. Marquis, F. Labbe, Chas. Sharples, Theophile St. Jean, Henry Atkinson, Gale and Hoffman, and William Stevenson.
No history of Quebec ship-building would be complete without a word about James Gibb Ross. Born in Carluke, Scotland, in 1820, Ross came to Quebec when a boy, and entered the office of his maternal uncle, James Gibb, who had a wholesale grocery establishment in the lower town. Prospering in this business, Mr. Ross turned his attention to ship-building, and in the ’sixties it was to Ross and Co. that most of the builders went for the necessary financial backing. Instead of permitting the vessels to be sold in Great Britain, Messrs. Ross fitted them out and placed them on charters out of Liverpool and other ports, and under their management Quebec ships were to be found voyaging to California and the West Coast of South America, to India and Australia, and “out East.” The builders made a little money this way, and the Ross shipping interests became very extensive. The firm relinquished the business in the ’eighties.
Ship-building began to revive again in the ’sixties. The American Civil War and the depredations of Confederate raiders undoubtedly eliminated a large fleet of merchant ships belonging to the United States from the carrying trade of the world, and there was also the usual swing of the business pendulum after the world depression of the late ’fifties.
In 1863, Quebec ship-builders constructed 37 ships, 24 barques, one brig and three brigantines, all aggregating some 53,300 tons. In the following year, 43 ships and 22 barques were built, in addition to a few smaller craft. In 1865, 30 ships and 18 barques took the water of the St. Lawrence. The building of ships, however, declined steadily from that date on to 1887.
Between 1860 and 1863, William Baldwin and Henry Dinning built their fleet of “Empire” ships. The first was launched in 1860—the Indian Empire, 1634 tons, 211 × 37 × 22 feet, bought by D. Law of Glasgow. The Colonial Empire, 1304 tons, was launched in 1861. In 1866 she was owned by Thompson and Co., Aberdeen. In the same year was launched the ship Celestial Empire, 1278 tons. In 1862, the ships Western Empire, 1281 tons, and the Eastern Empire, 1752 tons, were launched. The latter ship was built of hackmatack, spruce, and oak, iron- and copper-fastened, and strapped with iron. In 1863, four ships were built—the French Empire, 1368 tons; the Northern Empire, 1370 tons; the British Empire, 1413 tons, and the Southern Empire, 1142 tons. The latter vessel was bought by Cannon and Son and placed in the Australian trade. The others were all sold to British owners.
The ship Sea Queen, 848 tons, of medium model and iron- and copper-fastened, was built by them in 1862 and bought by Liverpool parties. In 1864, they built the ship Her Majesty, 1342 tons, which was bought by Farnsworth and Jardine, timber merchants, Liverpool.
Pierre Valin built the 1800-ton ship Indian Chief in 1864 for J. Watson, of Glasgow. In 1869, he built another sizable ship in the St. Peter, 1427 tons. Jean Gingras built the Glen Lyon, 1492 tons, in 1863, the Westminster, 1435 tons, in 1867, and the Stornoway, 1495 tons, in 1868, all of which were operated by James Gibb Ross, of Quebec. Thomas Lee built the ship Red Rose, 1454 tons, in 1863, and in the same year Hyppolite Dubord built the Calumet, 1628 tons. Samson built the Northumbria, 1292 tons, in 1866, and she was owned by Liverpool parties and afloat as a barque 40 years after. Afloat as a Swedish barque in 1905 was the Quebec-built ship Ida, 1267 tons. These two instances serve to prove that these British North American vessels were capable of long service. Numerous ships and barques were constructed by these and other Quebec ship-builders in the ’sixties, but those noted in the foregoing were the largest vessels of the period.
In 1864 was built by Edward Sewell the ship Tea Taster, 909 tons. She was a fast sailing vessel, and intended, I understand, for the China tea trade. I have no record of her having been among the clippers engaged in that service, but I note that she was running between Liverpool and India in 1867. She is not listed as a clipper, but a vessel of full model, built of mixed woods and iron-fastened.
The ship Caribou, built in 1864 by Samson, Quebec, was a smart ship of 1160 tons, and was engaged in the New Zealand emigrant trade under the flag of Patrick Henderson and Co., Glasgow. She was burnt at sea in December, 1869. A fine picture of the Caribou was painted by Capt. Tom Robertson, Port Chambers, N.Z., and valued recently at one hundred guineas.
In 1868, McKay and Warner built the ship Rock City, 825 tons, for Henry Fry, of Quebec. This ship had double diagonal ceiling, which greatly increased the strength of the hull. That she was a stout ship is evidenced by the fact that she was afloat as a Russian barque in 1905.
One of the best-known shipping men in Quebec was Henry Fry. He was of well-known Quaker ancestry, and hailed from Bristol, England, and became President of the Dominion Board of Trade, as well as Lloyd’s Agent at Quebec. He owned a number of ships between 1861 and 1880, and operated them himself in various foreign trades, and did a great deal to improve the quality of Quebec-built vessels, not only building superior ships for his own fleet, but urging others to do so. When wooden ship-building declined, Fry tried hard to stimulate the building of iron or steel vessels in Quebec, but his efforts in this direction were devoid of results. In 1895, he published The History of North Atlantic Steam Navigation, a carefully compiled volume, but it is to be regretted that he did not write a record of Quebec shipping and ship-building. No man had a better knowledge of the subject.
The vast export trade in timber carried on from Quebec had much to do with the port’s ship-building activities. Wood of all kinds was plentiful, skilled labour was available, and there was always a demand for cheap ships for the carriage of timber. While Quebec ship-builders constructed a huge fleet of timber droghers, yet a large number of their ships were world traders, and were to be found voyaging in all of the Seven Seas.
Quebec is a closed port from December to April, the St. Lawrence being frozen over during that period, or unsafe for navigation by all vessels except ice-breakers. In the winter months, extensive timber-cutting was done in the great forests of the Ottawa, St. Maurice, and other river basins leading into the St. Lawrence. The winter snow of Canada aided the lumbermen, inasmuch as the great logs could be hauled out to the frozen rivers on sleds and runners with ease. When the Spring sun broke up the ice-bound streams they, in turn, provided a cheap and ready means of floating the logs down to the St. Lawrence. Quebec and vicinity became a great timber-collecting centre, and huge saw-mills were kept busy turning the logs into deals and other shipping dimensions. In addition to the timber sawn around Quebec, great rafts of square timber and barge, bateaux, and schooner loads of deals, boards, stave-wood and laths, came into the port from the Lakes and the upper and lower St. Lawrence.
About the end of April and early in May, the timber ships began to arrive from Europe, and as many as 70 vessels have been known to arrive on one tide. Indeed, there have been times when as many as 500 sail were lying up and down the St. Lawrence in the vicinity of Quebec. Most of the timber-ships came out in ballast or with a cargo of salt, and when the same was discharged, they went into the timber coves to be loaded.
In the old days of the timber trade, Quebec bred a famous gang of boatmen who acted as runners or solicitors for the stevedores and ship-chandlers of the port. In their open boats, they rowed or sailed down the River St. Lawrence to meet the ships sailing or towing up to the city. When a likely vessel was sighted, they pulled alongside and “hooked on” by throwing a grapnel into the chains. The runner then went aboard and bargained with the ship’s master for the jobs of discharging ballast and stowing the vessel. In all weathers, these men were to be found on the river, day and night, and when competition was keen they often pulled to the Traverses, a narrow channel fifty miles below Quebec, and there they would wait until a ship showed up. As the incoming vessels did not stop to pick up these runners, it called for the exercise of considerable skill on their part, when hooked on to a fast-moving ship, to avoid being swamped or staved-up alongside.
As soon as the ship arrived in the harbour, she went to the salt sheds (if she had a cargo of that commodity) or to the ballast ground to discharge. If the master of the ship had made a bargain with the runners already mentioned, they would put a portable donkey-boiler and the necessary tackle aboard and discharge ballast.
Timber ships had bow and stern ports for taking in long square timber into their holds. These would be knocked out, and booms and tackle rigged out over bow and stern for the purpose of loading the timber. Engaged in this work were expert gangs of timber-stowers, mostly Irish, and rough, powerful men who could work like horses throughout the heat of a Canadian summer, and drink and fight with equal ability. These men were variously classed as timber-swingers, hookers-on, holders, porters, and winchers. When the rafts of timber were floated alongside the ship, members of the stowing gangs took their stations on the squared logs in the water and deftly extricated the individual timbers from the mass and pike-poled them into position for loading. On the ship’s fo’c’sle-head, other men superintended the manipulation of the tackles for raising the timber up into the open port and swinging it inside the ship. In the hold, other members of the gang sweated with cant-hooks and hand-spikes, stowing the wet and heavy cargo. The tackles used to be operated by muscle-power in the early days, with men tramping around the ship’s capstan or turning a crab-winch, but later the portable donkey-boiler and steam winch were used.
The scene around the coves was one of tremendous animation. Ships, as far as the eye could see, were being loaded, towed in or out, or departing, sometimes under sail or with a tug-boat pulling them to a fair wind or open water. Ships of all rigs and nationalities, green-hulled, black-hulled, white-hulled, or with painted ports; sails stowed with a harbour furl or loose in the bunt-lines drying; clipper ships with sweeping lines and beautiful figureheads and timber-droghing as a result of old age or a fill-in cargo between charters, with tall masts and skysail-yards across; common timber-ships rounded up at the ends, “built by the mile and cut off by the yard,” homely but serviceable, and, alas! numbers of old broken-down packets—famous clippers, many of them, water-soaked and strained with hard driving—only fit for carrying a timber cargo, and with the windmill pump working continuously and discharging a never-ending stream of water from the sodden holds. In the latter years, the timber trade employed all the old worn-out crocks of square-rig, and Quebec presented a sad sight, with a fleet of “has-beens”—Australian and California clippers and China tea ships, famous in nautical history, droghing deals and square-timber, pit-props and spool-wood, and with the Western Ocean sucking in and out of their started butts and warped planking.
But let us recall the brave days of sail, with the great timber rafts dropping down to the coves and the French-Canadian river-men singing “En roulant ma boule” or some such chanson: sun-bronzed, red-shirted men, with calks in the soles of their heavy boots, and surprisingly agile in leaping from log to log around the booms; hard, brawny fellows, who scanned the Irish timber-stowers for the sight of some opponent in past water-front fracas to seek or avoid. And the timber-stowers with the brogue still strong, sweating and bawling lustily, “Top up, starboard! Easy, port!” “Hook on, Mike, an’ heave in aisy as ye go!” or cursing in the dark holds, with the great slimy timbers charging at them, which must be grabbed on the move and swung into place. It was the timber they would be after stowing in the summer, but winter would see most of them down in Mobile or some southern cotton port screwing cotton bales in under a ship’s hold-beams, and trying to burst her decks off with their herculean efforts on the screwing jacks.
A deep-laden ship is warping out, and her seamen are roaring a chantey as they tramp around the capstan, a skinful of Lower Town rum lending zest to their attuned chorussing of “Good-bye, fare-ye-well!” or some such salt-water working song. Down in the boarding-houses and groggeries hugging the towering cliff of the Canadian Gibraltar, others of their fraternity would be ogling some water-front harpy or swilling beer, good-humoured or bellicose, according to their natures, but respectful to the heavy-fisted fellows who ran the place. They were a tough gang along the Quebec water-front; crimping and shanghai-ing was rife, and a sailorman had to step quietly and drink cautiously if he would ensure his whereabouts on the morrow.
An old Quebec friend of mine recalls witnessing the beating up of a sailor by two boarding-house runners along the Quebec water-front in the old days. The man was kicked into insensibility and thrown out into the road. There he lay with his face down in the earth and the dust blowing away from his nostrils with his heavy breathing. Did anyone pick him up? No, siree! People in that quarter of the city knew that the axiom of minding one’s own business was a safe rule to steer by. Such incidents were common and scarcely caused comment.
James Ward kept a sailors’ boarding-house in Quebec, and was a notorious character in the old windjammer days. Sailors tell a story of his shipping a dead man on board the ship Neptune, and the mate did not discover the fact until he turned the hands out to make sail. George Gale relates where Ward boarded a brig at Wolfe’s Cove in 1863 and at the point of a revolver actually forced one of the able-bodied seamen to go ashore with him. During the American Civil War, it is stated that Quebec crimps forcibly kidnapped sailors from their ships and transported them to certain points on the United States border, where they were taken and obliged to don uniforms and fight in the ranks of the Union Army. For this, the crimps received as much as $500 to $1000 per man—possibly from those who desired the kidnapped seamen to serve as substitutes.
Many yarns are told about Ward by sailors, but seamen have a trick of making their stories fit various persons, and I would hesitate to note them down as being actual incidents in which Ward featured. However, I understand this Quebec crimp turned religious in his old age and passed away, honoured and respected, in some Southern port.
Timber ships arriving in May at Quebec could usually make two trips during the season of open navigation. Now and again a fast vessel could manage three trips in the period from May 1st to December 1st. In winter, many would carry timber or deals from St. John, N.B., and Nova Scotian ports. As already stated, a few ships brought cargoes of Liverpool salt to the westward and earned freight both ways, but salt was a risky cargo for old ships in stormy seasons, and insurance was high. Only the best vessels could get this freight.
In 1854, New Brunswick ship-builders built 99,246 tons of shipping, an average of one ton to every two persons of population in the Province. This was a boom year. The universal depression affected builders in New Brunswick as it did elsewhere, for in 1858 the tonnage had dropped to about 68,500 tons, including vessels launched and on the stocks at the close of the year. In 1861, the value of ships built and registered was $1,674,000, which, at $30 per ton, would mean a round 55,800 tons. After that, ship-building began to revive, as in 1864 there were 163 vessels constructed, aggregating 92,605 tons.
The majority of the shipyards were located in St. John and at Portland, Carleton, Tynemouth, and other places in the immediate vicinity. In the ’sixties, a number of large vessels were built at St. Martins, St. Stephen, Moncton, Sackville, Dorchester, and other ports on, or adjacent to, the Bay of Fundy, while many big ships were launched up on the Gulf of St. Lawrence coast of the Province at Richibucto, Cocagne, Buctouche, and ports on the Miramichi.
John Storm and George King built a number of fine ships in the ’fifties at their St. John yard. Their most notable vessels during the ’sixties were the ships Queen of Beauty, Queen of Australia, Astarte, and Mindora. The Queen of Beauty was launched in 1861 for Fernie Bros., of Liverpool. She was a clipper ship of 1235 tons, 189 × 38 × 23 feet. She was afloat in 1887, and was posted as “missing” that year. The Queen of Australia was built the same year for the same owners, but she was a vessel of full model. Her tonnage was 1238 tons, and her dimensions 197 × 39 × 22 feet. In 1887, she was afloat and barque-rigged and owned in Liverpool. The Astarte was a ship of 1574 tons, built in 1864 for St. John owners. In later years, she was owned by Rylands and Co., Liverpool. The Mindora was launched in 1865, and was a ship of 1000 tons. She must not be confused with the Australian packet Mindoro, built by Storm and King in 1853. In 1869, they built the ship Bride of Lorn, 1324 tons, for the Wrights of Liverpool.
One of the most prominent St. John ship-builders was Thomas Hilyard, born in St. John in 1810. His father was a ship-master, who came to St. John from Devonshire, England. Hilyard served his apprenticeship as a ship carpenter and followed the trade for many years. Starting business for himself, he opened a yard in St. John, and in 1853 built the 1768-ton three-deck ship Clas-Merden, which was sold in Liverpool. In the ’sixties he constructed many fine ships, the Attila, Eddystone, Kamer, Cavour, Empress of the Seas (No. 2), Canute, Sumroo, Brunette, Timur being a few of the better known. The Attila, 1164 tons, was launched in 1860, and was bought by Rathbone Bros., of Liverpool. The Empress of the Seas was a ship of 1243 tons, built in 1863, and bought by the White Star Line for the Australian trade. This ship must not be confused with the American clipper of the same name built by Donald McKay in 1853. The Canute, 1391 tons, was built in 1863, and was owned for years by C. E. DeWolf and Co., Liverpool. In 1905 she was afloat as a barge under the American flag and called the Nyack.
Thomas Hilyard gained a reputation as a builder of high quality and splendid workmanship, and his earlier vessels brought him good returns financially. In 1872, he built a marine repair slip, and died in the June of that year. He had 13 children, and two of his sons, Henry and Thomas, carried on the business. When ship-building declined, the sons conducted a repair yard and engaged in lumbering. Henry Hilyard was Mayor of St. John for one year.
Many of the famous ships in the Australian trade out of Liverpool were built by James Nevins at his yard near Rankine’s Wharf, St. John, and some of these have already been mentioned in previous paragraphs. When the Wright brothers moved to Liverpool, Nevins built a number of vessels for them, or for them to dispose of. In 1860, Nevins built the ship Queen of Commerce, 1242 tons, for the Wrights. In 1861, he launched the Duncairn, 1303 tons, which was bought by Belfast parties later. In 1863, the ship Pensacola, 1421 tons, was built by him. In 1867, 1868, and 1869, he launched the ships Montana, 1263 tons, Chrysolite, 1278 tons, and Plantagenet, 1319 tons. James Nevins also owned ships out of St. John.
William and James Olive began building ships in St. John about 1822, when they constructed the ship Caledonia for English owners. In 1836, James retired, and William continued until 1841, when his sons, William, Whitney, and Isaac, took charge. During the boom for Australian ships, they built many large ships. Isaac Olive began as a labourer in the yard under his father, and eventually took charge. They built ships until 1865, and then went out of business. William and Isaac were afterwards officials of H.M. Customs, St. John. The firm built 125 vessels during the 43 years they were in operation.
Francis and Joseph Ruddock were prominent St. John ship-builders, with a yard at the Strait Shore. They built the Australian packet Morning Star in 1853, and many others. In 1861 they built the ship Oneiza, 1403 tons; in 1863 the Prince Alexander, 1294 tons; in 1864, the Bernice, 1455 tons; and in 1865, the De Courcey, 926 tons.
John S. Parker had a yard at Tynemouth Creek, St. John, where he built many fine ships for Canadian owners. A number of his ships were built for the St. John firm of Troop and Son, who began operating in the ’sixties. In 1864, Parker built the barque Bessie Parker, 669 tons; in 1866, the barque Annie Troop, 511 tons; in 1868, the barque Sunny Region, 675 tons, and in 1869, the ship Jacob V. Troop, 1232 tons, named after the head of the firm of Troop and Son, who owned and managed all the vessels mentioned. The Troops later became one of the most extensive ship-owners in British North America, and Parker constructed many ships of large tonnage for them.
John Fisher built half a dozen fair-sized ships in St. John between 1865 and 1870. In 1865, he built the Euterpe; in 1866, the Albion; in 1867, the Timandra; in 1868, the Urania; and in 1869, the Peruvian Congress, 1288 tons.
James Smith, of St. John, built the ship Palm Tree, a seven years’ A.1. at Lloyd’s vessel of 1473 tons, for the Australian trade out of Liverpool, in 1865. Smith was the builder of the Marco Polo. Arthur McDonald, in 1863, built the ship Legion of Honour, 1219 tons, for the White Star Line’s Australian trade. In 1866, she was owned by James Baines of the Black Ball Line, and ten years later, under a foreign flag, she was lost on the Tripoli coast.
John McLachlan and Robert Stackhouse, as partners, built many notable ships at their yard at Carleton, St. John. A record piece of work was accomplished by them in 1862, when they built the barque Dusty Miller, of 575 tons. Within the space of eight weeks from the time her keel was laid the Dusty Miller was sailing out of St. John harbour with a cargo of boards for Great Britain. She was a fair sailer, and made three trans-Atlantic voyages within twelve months. The barque was built of spruce and hard wood, iron- and copper-fastened, and was afloat under the Norwegian flag in 1905.
Rowan Bros., with a yard at Indiantown, N.B., built the barque Agnes M. Lovitt, 657 tons, for J. B. Lovitt and others, of Yarmouth, Nova Scotia, in 1863. In 1870, during a voyage from St. John to the Clyde, the vessel became water-logged, and made for Inishtrahull, Ireland. While running in, the barque struck a rock, and, afraid that she would go to pieces, Captain Nehemiah Churchill placed his wife and child, with the steward and another man, in the boat, with orders to lie by the vessel. The boat, however, capsized and all were drowned. The Agnes M. Lovitt was evidently repaired, as she was listed in 1905 as being under the Dutch flag and renamed Henrietta.
In 1861, the Mistress of the Seas, 1776 tons, was built in St. John for W. and R. Wright, Liverpool. This ship sailed in the Australian trade. The Great Australia, 1661 tons, copper-fastened, was built in 1860 for the Wrights, also, in 1861, the ship Star of India, 1697 tons. The Great Australia was wrecked in 1872 homeward bound from Rangoon. Other large vessels were the Queen of the North, 1668 tons, built 1860, and Star of Brunswick, 1636 tons, built 1861.
In 1860, the ship Caprera, of 758 tons, was built in St. John for Alex. Nichol and Co., Aberdeen, Scotland, a well-known firm of ship-owners in the Australian trade.
In 1869, the barque Minnehaha, 1043 tons, was built at St. John, at a cost of $72,000. When she was hauled out at Cardiff in October 1897, and her old metal sheathing removed to be replaced with a new course of copper, it was found that her hull was in as good condition as when it first touched the water. The Minnehaha was afloat in 1905 and renamed Laura by her Norwegian owners. She was then 36 years old.
While a considerable number of New Brunswick ships were sold abroad soon after building, yet the ’sixties show a number of large vessels retained by their builders and operated by them. During this decade, many firms and individuals in New Brunswick went into the business of ship-owning. Some owned ships outright, but most of the vessels were owned in “sixty-fourths” by a number of shareholders, with some person appointed as managing owner. With business connections, or relatives in the shipping business in Liverpool or Glasgow, these New Brunswick owners placed their vessels on charters principally in the North Atlantic trade, but in the ’seventies and ’eighties they went anywhere. In the owning of ships as an investment, many New Brunswickers made fortunes. Such provincially owned vessels were invariably commanded by native ship-masters, who, in the majority of cases, also possessed shares in the craft. One or more of the officers would be Canadians, as well as a boy or two, or perhaps a seaman before the mast—these latter often friends or relatives of the master and working their way to command. Sketches of seafaring and the customs peculiar to British North American-owned vessels will be dealt with later.
Jacob V. Troop of St. John, founder of the firm of Troop and Son, was already an extensive ship-owner in the ’sixties. David V. Roberts owned many large vessels built in St. John. Among them might be mentioned the ships Africana, 1557 tons; Adriana, 1305 tons; Asiana, 1193 tons, and Astracana, 1193 tons, all built between 1860 and 1866.
J. and R. Reed owned some large ships during the period we are reviewing, two of them being the ship Mount Pleasant, 1493 tons, built in 1864 at St. John, and the ship Rosa Bonheur, 1386 tons, built in 1867. Zebedee Ring was another prominent St. John ship-owner who was interested in many locally-built vessels, two of his ships, built in 1865, being the Magna Charta, 1266 tons, and the Hermon, 1077 tons. The Vaughan family, with connections in Liverpool, were extensive ship-owners in the later years, and the ship Eurydice, 1247 tons, was built at St. John in 1864 for Henry Vaughan.
The firm of William Thomson and Co., St. John, began owning and operating vessels in the ’sixties, and in the later years they became one of the most important shipping concerns in Canada. William Thomson, the founder of the firm, was born in Dundee, Scotland, in 1818, and coming to St. John with his parents, began business as a ship-broker in 1848. In the business of ship-broking and ship-owning, Thomson prospered, and eventually took his sons, Robert and John, into partnership. Robert had been sent to Liverpool and had received a clerical training there. William Thomson retired in 1882 and died in Asheville, North Carolina, in 1891. In the ’sixties, the firm owned some small barques built in New Brunswick, but later they had built for themselves some fourteen ships and barques, three steel ships, and the Battle Line of nine steel steamers. In addition to operating ships, the Thomson Company did an extensive chartering business in the timber trade, and are said to have chartered more than half the ships that sailed out of St. John. Percy W. Thomson, son of Robert, succeeded to the presidency of the firm, which is still in existence, though no longer as ship-owners.
Among other notable ship-owners of the ’sixties in St. John were Scammell Bros., J. S. De Veber, George F. Smith, Geo. McLeod, Oliver Emery, W. W. Turnbull, Francis Tufts, W. H. Purdy, and Alexander Lockhart.
At St. Martins, N.B., many ships were built in the days of wooden hulls and sail, and among the prominent builders might be mentioned James Moran, David Vaughan, James Swim, Jacob Bradshaw, Robert Greer Moran, and William Fownes. During the ’sixties, a number of large ships and barques were built at St. Martins by these shipwrights and registered at St. John, Moran and Vaughan owning many of them. Chronologically, the largest vessels were: 1860, ship George A. Holt, 1298 tons; 1862, ship Prince Rupert, 1184 tons; 1864, ship Prince Charlie, 1347 tons; 1865, Prince Patrick, 1059 tons; 1866, Palmas, 1284 tons; 1867, ship Prince Eugene, 1328 tons; 1868, ship Prince Leopold, 1308 tons; 1869, ship Prince Regent, 1340 tons. All the “Prince” ships were built and owned by James H. Moran.
On the Miramichi, many large ships were built. Desmond’s yard built two big vessels in 1865—the Royal Arch, 1623 tons, 216 × 41 × 24 feet, and the Sunda, 1556 tons. The latter ship was taken over by the Black Ball Line of Liverpool, and was engaged in the Australian trade. According to Colonial Clippers, the Sunda, under command of “Bully” Bragg, was a very fast ship and made some fine passages. The Sunda is credited with racing the famous American-built clipper ship, Flying Cloud, out to Moreton Bay, Queensland, and the New Brunswick ship beat the Flying Cloud by 18 miles in a four-day run which averaged 16 knots. The Sunda is also recorded as being used to transport sheep from Australia to New Zealand in the ’sixties. Other large ships built on the Miramichi in the ’sixties were: 1861, ship Colorado, 1267 tons, afterwards sold in Bordeaux and renamed Carmeline; 1864, ship Edward Cardwell, 1323 tons. James Baines bought a small ship of 631 tons called Pride of the Ganges, built in 1860.
William Muirhead of Chatham, N.B., owned the barque Queen of Hearts, 857 tons, and the ship Brookville, 837 tons, both built on the Miramichi in 1868 and 1869.
At Richibucto, N.B., some large vessels were built by various builders, Edmund Powell, Daniel McAuley, and Henry O’Leary being prominently identified with the industry there. In 1861, the ship Salsette, 1357 tons, was built at Brown’s yard, Richibucto, and sold in Liverpool. J. and T. Jardine, large New Brunswick lumbermen connected with Farnsworth and Jardine, Liverpool, owned the ship Aaron Brown, 1033 tons, also built in Richibucto in 1861. The ship Arzilla, 1095 tons, built there in 1863, was owned by Gibson and Co., Liverpool. The ship D’Israeli, 1016 tons, built in 1864, was also owned in Liverpool.
A prominent builder and ship-owner who began operations in the ’sixties was William Hickman of Dorchester, N.B. Hickman was born in 1823, and followed the sea for a time. He left and engaged in the hotel business, and then began to build ships at Lower Hillsborough on the Petitcodiac River. One of his vessels built there was the barque Fanny Atkinson, 626 tons, launched in 1865. Later, he began building on Dorchester Island, and constructed altogether some 25 ships and barques. Among those built in the ’sixties might be mentioned the following: 1867, barque Thomas Cochran, 627 tons; 1868, barque Maggie Chapman, 780 tons; 1869, barque Sarah M. Smith, 774 tons. The Maggie Chapman was abandoned in the North Atlantic in February 1878 while bound from Philadelphia to Antwerp. William Hickman was one of the leading New Brunswick ship-owners, fitting out and operating his own vessels.
At Clifton, N.B., G. N. Flewelling was a well-known builder of ships. In the ’sixties, a number of small barques were built there for Thomsons, Troops, and other St. John owners. At Rockland, now North Dorchester, Robert A. Chapman was a prominent builder and ship-owner. In 1868, he built the barque Robert Godfrey, of 774 tons. Chapman built some 30 vessels—ships and barques from 600 to 1500 tons—during the period from 1860 to 1878.
At Moncton, Archibald McKay built vessels at his yard on “The Bend” of the Petitcodiac River in the ’sixties, two being the Alcedo and the Lalla Rookh. G. and J. Salter built a number of vessels at Moncton until Oliver Jones took over the yard. J. L. Harris, who was bookkeeper for Salters, began building vessels in 1856 at Moncton. Wetmore, Titus, and Merritt built at Moss Glen, N.B., in the ’sixties. Gabriel Merritt was born at Marlboro, N.Y., in 1824, and came to New Brunswick when he was 22, and learnt the trade of ship-building. The firm built several small barques, barquentines, and brigs. At Sackville, Mariner Wood built and operated small vessels in the ’sixties. Elsewhere in New Brunswick, during the period under review, a considerable fleet of small barques and lesser craft were constructed and operated. St. Stephens, Oromocto, Rothesay, Black River, Chamcook, Quaco, Lancaster, Brandy Cove, Hopewell Cape, Harvey, Kingston, Cocagne, St. Andrews—small New Brunswick towns and villages—all had their builders and their ships, and the inhabitants of many of these places gained profitable returns from their shipping investments. With their families interested in vessels, young New Brunswickers went to sea, not to remain as men before the mast, but with the object of rising to command as soon as possible. These young fellows knew that ships awaited them as soon as they could acquire competency to take charge, and, equipped with this knowledge, they learned the business of seamanship and navigation eagerly under the stern tutelage of countrymen who saw to it that they learned. Not only was the art of seamanship ground into these young fellows, but great emphasis was also laid upon the matter of running a ship without incurring too much expense. Those who graduated under these principles made the finest sea-officers afloat, and the reputation of Bluenose ships lives, even to-day, as testimony to the efficiency of such thorough schooling.
In distant seas these ocean Ishmaels toil
(Their deeds are heralded by no trumpet’s blare)—
They come not to the footlight’s tawdry glare,
Yet on the lonely deep, they do and dare.
J. K. Brooke.
The Nova Scotians built very few ships for sale abroad. Compared with the Quebeckers and New Brunswickers, Nova Scotian builders were far behind in the construction of large vessels. But the Nova Scotians built ships mainly for themselves to own and operate, and in this business they were remarkably successful. Their ventures with small craft during the ’fifties caused them to expand greatly during the ’sixties. Prior to 1860, the majority of Nova Scotian vessels were of less than 1000 tons register; during the ’sixties the size and tonnage of the ships increased until 1500 tonners were no longer rarities. With the growth of their investments in ships, the number of young Nova Scotians who went in for seafaring in deep-water vessels increased greatly, and the maritime world began to take notice of these smart and capable seamen and their well-kept craft. In the ports of the Seven Seas and the waters thereof, the terms “Nova Scotiaman” and “Bluenose” were known to seamen of all nationalities during the ’sixties. By sheer ability as seamen and aggressiveness in business, these British North Americans had forced themselves out of the polyglot crowds of maritime nations until they were a factor to conjure with in the world’s carrying trade.
The inhabitants of the little town of Yarmouth, Nova Scotia, and the county of the same name were interested in shipping practically from the time the place was settled. Yarmouth people looked to the sea for the wherewithal to live——not in the building of ships for sale, but in the operating of them as an investment. Under their capable management and natural aptitude for seafaring ventures, Yarmouth’s citizens gained excellent returns from their merchant fleets, and hundreds found berths on her vessels as officers and masters.
During the period from 1860 to 1869, Yarmouth added shipping to the amount of 105,000 tons to her fleet—37 full-rigged ships, 104 barques, and a host of brigs, brigantines and schooners. In 1863, vessels built for Yarmouth owners amounted to 20,782 tons—the record year, which was not eclipsed until 1873.
The majority of Yarmouth-owned vessels were built at Yarmouth, Tusket, Salmon River, Beaver River, Church Point, Belliveau’s Cove, Port Gilbert, Meteghen, Pleasant Cove, Saulnierville, St. Mary’s Bay, and other points in Yarmouth, Digby, and Shelburne Counties. All were wooden ships of full model, iron- and partly copper-fastened and with iron knees, and the best of them contained a good deal of hard pine in their fabrics. As Yarmouth vessels were built to make money as cargo carriers, there were no clippers of sharp model among them, but many of them were of good lines and were able to sail well.
Among the prominent ship-builders might be mentioned the following: Francis Bourneuf, Clare, N.S.; Isaac H. Doane, Salmon River; J. G. Seely, Yarmouth; Dennis Horton, Yarmouth; Benjamin Killam, Salmon River; John W. Lovitt, Clare; Benjamin and Ira Raymond, Salmon River; Nelson Gardner, Yarmouth; John Richards, Yarmouth; Benjamin Richards, Argyle; William Henry Jenkins, Beaver River; Robert Sims, Argyle; James Lovitt, St. Mary’s Bay.
In the fall of 1861, the ship Research, 1459 tons, was launched in Yarmouth harbour. The Research measured 200 feet overall, 40 feet beam, and 30 feet depth of hold. She was a vessel of full model, iron-fastened, bilge strapped with iron, two decks laid and lower hold beams decked in the wings, four bow ports, and she cost $65,000. She was owned by Thomas Killam, a prominent Yarmouth ship-owner, and was the largest ship registered in the county up to that time.
Her lower masts and bowsprit were built spars, and she carried double topsails on all three masts, a main skysail, lower-, topmast-, and topgallant studdingsails. After fitting out in Yarmouth at the wharf of Killam Bros., the Research sailed for New York, under the command of Capt. George Ryerson, on December 21st, 1861. Her maiden passage was eventful, for by New Year’s Day, 1862, she had only got as far as Cape Cod. The wind commenced breezing up from the N.W., and while the hands were aloft making the top-gallantsails fast, a terrific squall burst on the ship and the brand-new mainsail of No. “0” canvas flogged into ribbons. The master brought the ship to on the starboard tack with the wind blowing in hurricane squalls, and next morning, while trying to save the sail, a Nova Scotian seaman fell from the foretopgallant-yard into the sea to leeward. On January 3rd, the weather moderated, and the Research, with half her sails gone, headed for Sandy Hook, where she was taken in tow. On her first voyage she loaded general cargo at New York for Liverpool.
The Research featured in an extraordinary marine episode some years later which served to illustrate the stuff that Bluenose seamen were made of. Leaving Quebec on November 10th, 1866, timber laden, the Research passed out through the Straits of Belle Isle, bound for Greenock, Scotland. Captain George W. Churchill was in command, with Aaron Churchill as mate, both men belonging to Yarmouth. On November 27th, a vicious N.W. gale struck the ship, blowing canvas from the yards, while a sea struck the rudder, parting the chains and breaking it a little below the rudder-case. Lightening the ship aft by shifting cargo, they managed to secure what was left of the rudder by tackles, and sailed thus until November 29th, when it was unshipped by a sea and rendered useless. A jury rudder was rigged and shipped on December 2nd, but the gear parted and it was lost. Captain Churchill set his crew to work knocking down the wheel-house, and using this, some deals, and a spare topmast, he bolted and lashed up a species of steering oar which he put over the stern with tackle to operate it. But the ship would not steer with this rig-out, and it was brought aboard again and the ship lightened forward to get her stern down. Once more the improvised steering apparatus failed to work, and it was brought aboard and alterations were made. Putting it overboard again, the rudder broke, but sufficient remained to keep the vessel off before the wind until December 9th, when it was brought on deck and repaired. In attempting to ship it, the gear parted, and the weather prevented anything further being attempted until the 14th, heavy seas breaking over the ship in the meantime and staving in the forward house and provision locker. On the morning of the 14th, the rudder was put overside during a lull in the continuous gales, but next day the stock was broken and it was rendered useless. Heavy gales and high seas buffeted the Research until the 21st, the ship rolling about in the trough of the sea, leaking, and with one of the pumps disabled. On this day, the weary but undaunted crew unshipped the rudder-stock and manufactured a new rudder. After much labour, it was put over the stern on January 2nd, but as it had no power over the vessel, they turned to and made an additional rudder, which had the desired effect, and the ship was under command until January 5th, when one of the rudders was lost.
Heavy weather beset the vessel until January 10th, during which time she was swept by boarding seas which stove in hatches and carried away bulwarks. With a lightening up of the gale, Captain Churchill had the main-yard sent down and used it in making another rudder, which, when shipped after a trying series of efforts, failed to work. On January 25th, he proceeded to make another, which was shipped two days later, and carried away as soon as it was put to use. With dogged determination, master and mate kept the hands at work making another rudder, which was shipped on February 1st, the vessel being then in lat. 49° N., long. 12° 13’ W., having been driven back from the latitude of Tory Island by north and east gales. This rudder answered its purpose, and the wind came away fair. The Research entered the Firth of Clyde and picked up a tug off Ailsa Craig, which towed her up to Greenock.
The ship was 88 days on the passage, during which time she was exposed to a series of violent gales with all the concomitants of Western Ocean winter voyaging. In recognition of the determination and courage of the master and officers of the Research, Lloyd’s awarded vellum certificates to the master, mate, and boatswain. The Union Marine Insurance Company presented a gold watch and chain to Captain Churchill, and a sextant each to Aaron Churchill, mate, and George Marshall, boatswain. The Underwriters’ Association, Glasgow, presented the Captain with a silver salver and about £70 in gold, and a silver chronometer watch to each of the other two. A recommendation was also forwarded to the owner of the Research by the underwriters requesting that Captain Churchill’s action be brought before other parties interested, “so that they may show those deserving some mark of approval.” The present from the Glasgow Underwriters came solely as a tribute to the work of the seamen mentioned, as they had no interest of any kind in the vessel or her cargo.
Aaron Churchill, who was mate of the Research on this eventful voyage, afterwards became master of Yarmouth ships, and later became head of the Churchill Line Steamship Company of Savannah, Ga., passing away a few years ago.
The Research was regarded as a very big ship by the Yarmouth people, and it was not until 1864 that a larger vessel was built. This was the ship N. and E. Gardner, 1465 tons, built at Tusket, N.S., for Samuel Killam of Yarmouth. In January 1878, the N. and E. Gardner left Galveston for Liverpool with 5299 bales of cotton, weighing 2,683,136 lb. and valued at $291,445, the largest cotton cargo ever shipped from Galveston up to that time. The ship met heavy weather on the passage and sprung a leak. From February 18th to March 14th, the crew were kept constantly at the pumps, with the cotton saturated with water, the ship listed to port and practically unmanageable, and the weather an almost continuous succession of gales. After a month of this sort of thing, with the crew exhausted, the ship on her broadside and eight feet of water in the hold, Captain John Kinney decided he could not get the ship to port, and when a steamer hove in sight, all hands abandoned her, after setting her on fire to prevent her becoming a menace to navigation.
Other ships of a tonnage exceeding 1000 built during the ’sixties for Yarmouth owners were as follows: ship Home, 1271 tons, built 1861 at Tusket for Samuel Killam; ship Abby Ryerson, 1145 tons, built 1866 at St. Mary’s Bay for Ryerson, Moses and Co.; ship Winnifred, 1012 tons, built 1868 at Beaver River for Dennis and Doane; ship Herbert Beech, 1061 tons, built 1869 at Tusket for Messrs. Young, Kinney, Corning, and others. In addition to these, a host of smaller ships, barques, brigs, brigantines, and schooners were built for Yarmouth owners during the period under review.
The Yarmouth vessels of the larger type were not clippers. The ability to carry cargo and make money for the owners was the main idea in constructing them. Hold room was not sacrificed for speedy lines, but, at the same time, Yarmouth shipping men expected their vessels to be moderate sailers. The builders did what they could to design a vessel that could pack a certain tonnage within certain dimensions; they shaped her up forward so that she would not be shoving the ocean in front of her, and they gave her a “run” that would leave a clean wake and not one of the kind that was as wide and as smooth as a city street twenty-four hours after the ship had passed. And they put plenty of sail on the vessel. The matter of passages was entirely up to the master and mates, and it might be said that Bluenose skippers and mates had a certain knack in getting the most out of their packets in the way of speed.
Very few data are to be had upon the subject of passages by British North American ships. The American and British clippers were built for fast sailing; their rapid passages were their best testimonials for securing passengers and high-class freights; they had extra gear and big crews, and their accomplishments were widely advertised and indelibly recorded. Numerous good passages were made by Canadian ships, but as they were not out to impress prospective passengers and shippers of high-rated freights, the master did not hire a Press agent to make his vessel’s accomplishments known to the world. If he succeeded in clipping off two or three days in a passage between ports, it would be figured up on the ship’s books as a saving in wages and maintenance. But such passages would have to be made by superior seamanship. Reckless driving, the straining of the ship’s hull and possible resultant damage to cargo, and the blowing away of sails and the breaking of spars, were not encouraged by owners. Most of the masters of British North American craft had shares in their ships, and saw to it that these shares were not imperilled, but if the vessel was in good shape and the mates had the crew well in hand, no ships were ever smarter in taking advantage of a good breeze.
Throughout this record, good passages will be mentioned from time to time, and, as an instance of what a well-built little Nova Scotia ship would do when ably commanded, I will quote the voyages of the Yarmouth ship Speculator, a vessel of 747 tons, 172 feet between stem-head and stern rail, 33·5 feet beam, and 19·5 feet depth of hold, built at Yarmouth in 1864.
The Speculator was owned by Killam Bros., and commanded by Samuel Killam, jun. Loaded with lumber she left Yarmouth for Monte Video on November 24th, 1864. On December 15th, she crossed the equator in 20 days 6 hours from the time of passing Cape Forchu Light, at the entrance to Yarmouth Harbour. During the clipper ship era, between 1850 and 1860, the best times of crack clippers, heavily sparred and with big crews, between Sandy Hook and the equator ranged from 16 to 20 days. So that the little Yarmouth ship, no clipper by any means, and with further to sail, can be regarded as being very good indeed. On February 8th, the Speculator passed inside the light on Lobos Island, and early next morning came to an anchor in Monte Video Roads, after a passage of 45 days between light and light, or 45 days 12 hours between port and port. An extract which I have made from her log is herewith set down:
Date. | Distance Run. Miles. | Remarks. | |
1864. | |||
Nov. | 24. | — | Passed Cape Forchu Light, 7 p.m. Wind light, N.W. to W. All plain sail. |
” | 25. | — | Wind light & baffling. Light airs, N.W. to S. 1 a.m. Seal Island Light, S.E. by E., distant 10 miles. |
” | 26. | 86 | Wind S.W. light. |
” | 27. | 35 | Light airs. |
” | 28. | 65 | Light airs, first part. Latter part, N.N.E. fresh gale & squally. Lower topsails & reefed foresail. |
” | 29. | 212 | N.N.E. fresh gale & squally. Latter part, N.N.W. strong breeze. Same sail. |
” | 30. | 209 | All sail. N.N.E. to N. moderate. Latter part, N.W. strong. |
Dec. | 1. | 226 | All sail. W.S.W. strong breeze & latter part, fresh breeze. |
” | 2. | 209 | First part, fresh W. Latter part, N.W. moderate. |
” | 3. | 185 | First part, N.W. moderate. Latter part, N. light. |
” | 4. | 199 | First part, baffling, N.W. to N.E. Latter part, E. by N. strong breeze. |
” | 5. | 184 | Royals in. E., strong. E. to S., squally & calm, heavy rain. S.E. by E., strong. |
” | 6. | 192 | T’gallants in. S.E. by E., strong. Latter part, E. by S., fresh gale & squally. |
” | 7. | 175 | E. by S. to E.S.E. Gale & heavy squalls. Latter part, same. |
” | 8. | 172 | Same. |
” | 9. | 177 | Fresh gale & squally. Latter part, E. by S., strong & clear. |
” | 10. | 214 | Royals in. E. by S. strong & clear. |
” | 11. | 216 | All sail. E., fresh. Latter part, E. by S., fresh & clear. |
” | 12. | 196 | All sail. E., fresh. Latter part, light & baffling. |
” | 13. | 131 | E.S.E., light & baffling. Latter part, light sails in, squally & heavy rain. |
” | 14. | 150 | E.S.E., light & rainy. Latter part, moderate, fine & clear. |
” | 15. | 200 | At 11 p.m. crossed the Line, 20 days, 6 hours from Cape Forchu Light. S.E. & by S., moderate. Position at noon, 1° 35′ S., 35° 17′ W. |
” | 16. | 187 | All sail. Tacking. Light & variable. |
” | 17. | 32 | ” |
” | 18. | 31 | ” |
” | 19. | 48 | ” |
” | 20. | 57 | ” |
” | 21. | 62 | ” |
” | 22. | 79 | ” |
” | 23. | 119 | Position, 10° 59′ S., 35° 20′ W. |
” | 24. | 139 | All sail. Light, baffling airs. |
” | 25. | 183 | All port studdingsails. E. by S., moderate. E. & E.N.E. & N.E. light. Splendid Christmas. |
” | 26. | 172 | All stunsls. E. to N.E., moderate. |
” | 27. | 147 | ” |
” | 28. | 164 | Starboard stunsls. First part, N.N.W. to N.N.E., moderate. Latter part, N. to N.N.E., fresh & rainy. |
” | 29. | No obs. | Lower topsails. N., fresh breeze & rainy. Rains & calms. Barometer, 29·70. |
” | 30. | 150 | All sail. First part, calm. Tremendous sea from N. Latter part, light breeze, N. to N.W. Fine. |
” | 31. | 80 | All stunsls. |
1865. | |||
Jan. | 1. | 158 | Light & moderate winds. |
” | 2. | 81 | All plain sail. |
” | 3. | 101 | ” |
” | 4. | 73 | ” |
” | 5. | 100 | ” |
” | 6. | 190 | ” |
” | 7. | 104 | ” |
” | 8. | — | At 7 p.m. passed inside of Light on Lobos Island. At 11 p.m. made the Light on Flores. At 6 a.m. anchored Monte Video Roads. |
On March 29th, 1865, the Speculator left Monte Video for Pointe de Galle, Ceylon, and arrived there on May 24th, after a passage of 56 days. The following extracts from Captain Killam’s log show how his little ship sailed when down in the “Roaring Forties” and a few degrees to the eastward of the Cape of Good Hope meridian.
Date. | Distance Run. Miles. | Remarks. | |
1865. | |||
April | 11. | 231 | All plain sail. Lat. 40° 56′ S., long. 24° 40′ E. Course S. 72° E. |
” | 12. | 240 | Royals in. Wind, N.W., strong. |
” | 13. | 228 | T’gallants in. Wind, N.W., strong. |
” | 28. | 273 | Royals in. Strong breeze & clear. Lat. 43° 17′ S., long. 46° 24′ E. |
” | 29. | 291 | Single reefs in topsails. S.W. to S.S.W., strong & squally. Latter part, S.W. gale & clear. Lat. 42° 19′ S., long. 52° 24′ E. |
” | 30. | 265 | First part, strong gale, S.W. Middle part, heavy gale, running under two lower topsails and reefed foresail. Latter part, more moderate; upper tops’ls set. |
The above represent her best days’ runs, and they are not quoted by me as being anything extraordinary, but merely to give an idea of how the orthodox type of Nova Scotian merchant ship could sail. Her average speed was seven miles per hour on the whole passage, taking the distance sailed on a straight course each day.
From Pointe de Galle, the Speculator went to Calcutta. Leaving Calcutta for Port Louis, Mauritius, on October 1st, 1865, she anchored off the bell-buoy, Port Louis, on October 10th. Her average day’s run on this passage was 220 miles. Her run for one week was 1557 miles. The trip was made in fine weather and with stunsails out for six days following.
On February 14th, 1866, she left Rangoon for Mauritius, and ran into an Indian Ocean hurricane, which took the main and mizzen masts out of her. The log records of this incident are herewith quoted:—
March | 5th. | Wind, N.N.E. to N. to E.N.E. Threatening weather. Very bad-looking indeed. |
” | 6th. | Hove-to under fore-tops’l. 4 p.m. Furled fore-tops’l. 8 p.m. Blowing a hurricane. 10 p.m. to 3 a.m. Ship all under water. Lost main & mizzen masts. Decks swept, etc., etc. Wind, East to West. |
” | 7th. | Strong gale, fearful cross sea running, constant rain. |
The quotations are exactly as made by Captain Killam in his log-book at the time. His record of the hurricane is extremely terse, and his “etc., etc.,” covers a thrilling story. But with his ship labouring and plunging about in the whirl of a hurricane, with the sea making a complete breach over her, his main and mizzen masts, his boats and deck gear gone, a ship-master has no time to write fervid descriptions of disaster in his log-book. And Captain Killam would undoubtedly be busy enough trying to keep the foremast in the ship and the ship herself above water.
He does not record in his log-book the manner in which he brought the Speculator into Port Louis, but he evidently made shift with his foremast, possibly rigging some kind of a jury-mast aft, and eventually made port. Commencing with March 9th, two days after the disaster, the Speculator’s daily runs were: 9th, 78; 10th, 108; 11th, 110; 12th, none; 13th, none; 14th, 101; 15th, 121; 16th, 179; 17th, 138; 18th, 120; 19th, 147; 20th, 141; 21st, 98; 22nd, 68 miles. On the 23rd, the ship made Round Island, and was taken in tow by a Government steamer, arriving in Port Louis Harbour on March 24th.
The majority of Yarmouth-owned ships in the ’sixties were employed in the North Atlantic trade, carrying deals, grain and refined petroleum to the eastward and returning west with coal, pig or scrap iron, rails or in ballast. The smaller craft traded to the West Indies and South and Central America. But a few of the newer ships, like the Speculator, engaged in distant voyages. Prior to the completion of the Atlantic cables, the masters of the ships transacted all the business for the owners. News of the vessels themselves came principally by mail, and J. Murray Lawson, in his Yarmouth History, quotes the arrival of a despatch in 1865 notifying a Yarmouth ship-owner that his barque Kensington was loading in Akyab, India, on March 18th, 1865. This news was sent by telegram via the East India Line to London, and from London it was sent by mail to New York, from which place it was telegraphed to Yarmouth on April 7th.
In 1865, the handsome little barque Kate Young, 697 tons, was built by John Vickery, Yarmouth, for John and Job Young, the latter being her master. In 1869, while bound from Foo-chow for Shanghai, she ran ashore in the Min River, and was so badly damaged after floating off that she was condemned and sold.
The Yarmouth brig Sarah L. Hall, Captain Samuel Davis, left Matanzas, Cuba, on March 27th, 1867, with a cargo of molasses for Boston. She arrived at the Massachusetts port, discharged her cargo, ballasted, and proceeded to St. John, New Brunswick. Loading a cargo of shooks and a deck-load of lumber, she arrived in Havana on May 15th, making this round trip in 1 month 18 days. The Sarah L. Hall registered 261 tons, and was owned by B. P. Ladd and Benjamin Davis of Yarmouth. In 1877, on a voyage from Cuba to New York, she vanished, and seven Yarmouth County men of her crew with her.
The enterprise of Yarmouth merchants was not alone confined to building ships, fitting them out, and operating them, but they formed organisations for the purpose of insuring ships and cargoes. The first Marine Insurance Company of Yarmouth was formed in 1809, and dissolved three years later. In 1837, the Yarmouth Marine Insurance Association was organised, and it remained in existence until 1883. Other purely Yarmouth Marine Insurance companies were the Acadian, Commercial, Atlantic, Pacific and Oriental. All carried on business until the early ’eighties. The Boston Marine Insurance Company, of Boston, was the most important outside concern, and Wm. Law and Co., Yarmouth, managed the Yarmouth agency.
A newspaper report in 1884 stated:
“The present has been a favourable year for the Marine Insurance Companies operating in Nova Scotia. For years past they have suffered heavy losses, and last year, five out of six Yarmouth companies went under with varying deficiencies. This year (1884) scarcely a ship has been lost and probably $150,000 will go out of Yarmouth to pay the premiums of the year, most of which will go into the pockets of the Boston Marine. Business in marine insurance premiums in Yarmouth formerly amounted to about $250,000 per annum.”
One of the most prominent merchants and ship-owners in Yarmouth was William Law. He was born in Belfast, Ireland, in 1833, and came to Yarmouth in 1847. Entering the wholesale and retail grocery business, Mr. Law made a success of this and various agencies connected with shipping. As agent for the Boston Marine Insurance Company, he did a very large business with local ship-owners. In 1865, he became interested in ships, and from that period until 1885 Law owned something like 25,960 tons of shipping. In 1891, the William Law, 1631 tons, a steel ship built in Great Britain, completed the fleet under the Law house-flag. Mr. Law was a member of the Nova Scotia Parliament, and the firm of Wm. Law and Co. is still in existence.
There had always been ship-building up at the head of the Bay of Fundy since pioneer days, but the ’sixties saw a distinct development in the industry of building and operating ships by Nova Scotians resident “up the Bay” and within the Basin of Minas. The necessary material for ship construction was available, and though far inland, the high tides of Fundy poured in over the red mud-flats and up the rivers and provided sufficient water to float the largest vessels. Places which were but slimy ravines of brick-coloured mud at low water afforded safe navigation to 1000-ton ships at high tide, and on the banks of many such inlets the shipyards were located.
Practically in the heart of Nova Scotia, and on the tidal river Avon, is the town of Windsor, at which many fine Bluenose ships were built. In the vicinity and on the shores of Minas Basin were other ship-building centres—Horton, Walton, Cheverie, Avondale, Maitland, Hantsport, Cornwallis, Newport, Spencer’s Island, Parrsboro’, Kingsport, Nappan, Maccan, Amherst, Truro, etc.—at all of which ship construction was carried on more or less extensively.
A celebrated Nova Scotian ship-builder and vessel owner was Bennett Smith, whose yard was located on the island at Windsor. As early as 1852, Smith built two ships of 600 and 700 tons, the Mersey and Siam, but prior to 1861, the bulk of the vessels built by him were brigs, brigantines, and schooners. He was a natural-born ship-builder, and designed and carved the models himself, laying out the sheer-lines by eye. From the models, the moulds were made for the large replica.
In the ’sixties, Bennett Smith built and largely owned the following vessels: 1861, ship British Queen, 1274 tons; 1863, ship British Lion, 1282 tons; 1864, ship Nile, 1336 tons; 1865, ship Wellington, 1005 tons; 1867, ship John Mann, 1043 tons. In 1868, he built the ship Calliope, 1202 tons, at St. John, N.B., and also constructed other vessels there. He discontinued building in 1877 with the launch of the ship Black Watch.
Shubael Dimock of Windsor built and owned many vessels. In 1867, he built the ship Hannah Morris, 1061 tons. A little barque built at Windsor in 1864 called the Agra, 598 tons, was afloat under the Norwegian flag in 1905. She was formerly owned by P. M. Cunningham and others, of Windsor.
One of the best known “up the Bay” builders and owners was the firm of Ezra Churchill and Sons, Hantsport. The head of the firm, Ezra Churchill, was the son of one Ezra Churchill, mate of the Yarmouth brigantine Hibernia, which was lost on the Nova Scotia coast in the winter of 1806, all hands being drowned.
At Hantsport, Ezra Churchill was building ships and operating them himself in the ’fifties. He made a success of the business and prospered, and when he passed away in the ’seventies he was a Senator in the Nova Scotia legislature and a leading ship-owner.
During the ’sixties, some large ships and barques were built at Churchill’s yard for the firm, and among them might be mentioned the following: 1862, ship La Gloire, 1138 tons; 1863, ship Marlborough, 1383 tons; 1867, ship Quebec, 1454 tons; 1868, barque Montreal, 806 tons; 1869, barque British America, 1060 tons. The Montreal was afloat and under the Austrian flag in 1905, while the British America, as the Norwegian barque Norman, was afloat and listed in Lloyd’s Register as late as 1916, which testifies to the manner in which Churchill built his vessels.
Robert Fuller, of Horton, was their designer in the later ’seventies until about 1882. From that time, John Davison, of Hantsport, superintended design and construction until the yard was closed down in 1892.
The Quebec, built by Churchill in 1867, was a fairly old vessel when she made her last voyage, and those who served in her at the time are not likely to forget it in a hurry. I got the story from the Nova Scotian who was mate of her then, and he humorously referred to it as the voyage when he ate the dog. We were yarning in the cabin of another old Nova Scotia craft at the time, and the captain’s good lady cajoled the story from her husband. I will let him tell it in his own words as near as I can recollect.
“The old hooker was re-rigged and sent across to Dublin with a load of deals. We arrived all right, discharged our cargo, took in ballast and sailed for Halifax. We met a succession of gales coming out of the Channel and could make no headway, the captain hesitating to put sail on the old packet for fear she’d go to pieces. After we’d been some weeks trying to make some progress against the Fall gales, the Old Man decided he’d take a swing to the south’ard and try and make Halifax that way. But the copper was off the ship’s bottom, and when she got into southern waters she got so foul with barnacles and grass that she’d hardly move at all. We tried to clean the barnacles off her by lowering a chain over her bows and bringing it under her bottom, sawing away with it until we reached the quarters. This wasn’t much good, as we couldn’t clear the growths from the tuck of the stern, and, at last, after she swam around in calms and light airs, the growths got so bad that she wouldn’t answer her rudder at all. Food was running low and we were all placed on allowance.
“We worked slowly to the no’th’ard again and met the winter gales. The snow and ice we melted for water—our tanks were empty. We were months out by this time and living on one meal a day. Then came the time when the last of our provisions were eaten. Things were looking pretty tough and we were about 100 days out from Dublin. We ate up the linseed meal in the medicine chest, and tried to find sustenance by chopping up the straw in our bunk mattresses and soaking it in water. Not much nourishment in that. Some of the men used to chew on the leather tongues cut from their boots.
“We were all pretty hungry, and the weather was cold and dirty. The skipper said he’d shoot the first man that talked about eating human flesh. We had a crew of Irishmen shipped in Dublin, but there was never any talk of that sort—the skipper’s threat might have had its effect. But we had a dog aboard, and when the grub ran out along towards the last, we decided to have a couple of meals off him. The cook killed the animal and we ate the half of him one day. The other half we kept for next day. But when I went to get it, I found the men had cut the lock off the door of the locker where we had it stowed and they had eaten it. We had nothing at all then.
“She was leaking pretty badly, but we were so weak that we could only give the wheel pump a turn or two before we’d have to knock off. I could hardly stand on my feet for more than a few minutes, when I would have to sit down. The men swelled all up, but the skipper and I were all right, though we’d had the same allowance as the men. They might have got poisoned from chewing on their leather.
“We had the ens’n, union down in the rigging, and kept torches handy to light should we sight a vessel. But nothing came our way. We’d see other craft, but they’d be a long ways off. Then it came when we were 120 days out and we hadn’t eaten for some days. We had just about given the whole business up when a Sunderland steamer came along. It appeared that he had passed close to us in the night, but it was snowing at the time and he didn’t see us. However, when it came light the snow ceased, and he sighted us wallowing about in his wake. He got a notion that something was wrong and came around to have a look at us. He sees our ens’n, union down, and stopped down to loo’ard of us and signalled for us to launch our boat. We tried to swing our boat out, but were too weak to move it. He saw this, and steamed up to wind’ard and lowered away his own boat. It was blowing hard at the time and there was a big sea running, but they got us off in two trips with the steamer going to wind’ard and to loo’ard of us.
“I can tell you that I’ll never forget that ship or the people aboard of her. Food looked mighty good to me then, and I never took so much pleasure in eating in all my life. Yes, sir, 120 days from Dublin to Halifax and not getting there after all was a mighty long passage.”
The Quebec filled and foundered shortly after her crew were taken off. In spite of their experiences, all recovered.
Maitland was an important ship-building and ship-owning centre in the ’sixties, and some of the finest Nova Scotian craft were built there. During the palmy days of the ’seventies, Maitland yards were hives of industry, while ships and barques with “Maitland, N.S.,” on their sterns were to be seen in all parts of the world. Some of the prominent builders (most of them owners also) were: William Dawson Lawrence,[6] Archibald McCollum, Charles Cox, John Trapee, Duncan Cameron, Adam and William McDougall, Alfred Putnam.
Sometimes spelled Laurence. |
A typical sample of the manner in which shrewd Nova Scotian ship-owners operated their vessels and the returns they received from them may be cited in the history of W. D. Lawrence’s ship Pegasus. The Pegasus was built in the Lawrence shipyard at Maitland of mixed woods, copper-fastened below the draught line and iron-fastened above. Her dimensions were 190·1 × 38·8 × 21·9 feet; her tonnage 1120 tons register, and she had the mythical flying horse for a figurehead. Captain James Ellis, son-in-law of W. D. Lawrence, commanded her after she was launched in 1867.
In September, 1868, she left Cardiff for Yokohama with a cargo of coal; from there she sailed to the Chinchas in ballast and carried a cargo of guano to Antwerp. Her gross freight on this round voyage was £10,575, out of which she cleared about £7000. From Antwerp, she crossed to Cardiff, loaded coal for Monte Video, in ballast around to the Chinchas again, and guano back to Hamburg—gross freight on this round, £8616, clearing £4800. From Hamburg to Cardiff again for the ever-available coal cargo, thence to Hong Kong, thence to the Philippines to load sugar for Boston—gross freight on the third round voyage, £9500, clearing £5500. The Pegasus arrived at Boston on December 18th, 1872, and her books made up to that date show that she cleared $82,716 in four years and three months’ voyaging. As she cost $46,800 to build, the owner gained a surplus of $35,916 over her cost, and he still had the ship. The Pegasus was not a fast vessel, but she was undoubtedly a money-maker. With the ability to construct good vessels at a cost lower than other countries, and with masters who were not only splendid seamen but keen business men, it is not to be wondered at that ship-building and ship-owning in Nova Scotia thrived in these halcyon days of sail and wooden hulls.
Many of the Maitland-built vessels of the ’sixties were owned in Halifax. Jeremiah Northrup owned the barque Lara, 948 tons, built in 1862, and the barque Era, 517 tons, built in 1869. Robert Boak, jun., owned the ship Brenda, 958 tons, built by Chas. Cox, Maitland, in 1863. Thomas E. Trefry was managing owner of the barque Salus, 815 tons, built in 1864. John Stairs owned the barque Fresh Breeze, 568 tons, built in 1868. One of the biggest Halifax-owned ships was the Thomas Bayne, 1225 tons, built at Maitland in 1868 for Thomas Bayne, Halifax. George J. Troop, of Halifax, owned the barque Scotland, 511 tons, built at Maitland in 1869.
Other large Maitland ships of the ’sixties were the Hudson, 1092 tons, owned by Fred Curry of Avondale, built in 1868; Seaforth, 1102 tons, built 1868; M. E. Cox, 1180 tons, built 1869. The two latter vessels were owned in Liverpool and Cork.
At Cornwallis, N.S., D. R. and C. F. Eaton built and operated numerous ships. In 1864, they built the little barque Blomidon, 563 tons. In 1869, they built two ships, the S. Vaughan, 940 tons, and the Ringhorne, 921 tons. The latter was a well-built ship of spruce and hard wood, copper-fastened below the draught line. In 1905 she was afloat as the American barge Davidson.
Charles W. Berteaux also built ships at Cornwallis. Vessels built there during the ’sixties were owned locally, or in Windsor and Halifax.
Nicholas Mosher, father and son, were prominently identified with ship-building activities around Newport, N.S., and many fine vessels came from their yard. They built for themselves and others. I have recorded some ten ships and barques of between 500 and 1019 tons as being built at Newport between 1860 and 1869, the largest vessel being the ship Summer, built in 1863. Most of the Newport ships of this period were owned locally and registered in Windsor. Frederick Curry owned in Newport-built craft in the ’sixties.
Ships and barques up to 1000 tons register were built at Horton, Parrsboro, Princeport, Truro, Clements, Nappan, and other points within the area under review during the period covered in this chapter. The largest vessel in my records is the ship Armanella, 915 tons, built at Princeport in 1869.
The Annapolis Basin is one of the beauty spots of Nova Scotia. Opening into the Bay of Fundy through a deep channel known as Digby Gut, the basin is a veritable salt-water lake some ten or twelve miles long and about four miles wide at its broadest part. Separating the basin from the Bay of Fundy is a narrow peninsula, mountainous and spruce-clad to the summits, along the shores of which nestle several villages of farmers and fishermen. The opposite side of the basin presents a less rugged appearance, and is the location of many fine farms and apple orchards, as well as such thriving towns as Digby, Bear River, Clementsport, etc. Annapolis Royal and Granville are situated on the Annapolis River at the extreme head of the basin. Nowadays, the production of apples, lumber and spruce piling, agricultural products and fish, constitute the main trade of the inhabitants of the basin, but in the old days ship-building was quite an important industry.
At Granville, on the opposite side of the river from Annapolis, a number of vessels were built during the ’sixties. The chief builders were James Delap, Weston Hall, James Young, William Clark, Lawrence Delap and Gilbert Bent. During the ’sixties, the firm of Jacob V. Troop and Son, St. John, N.B., had some vessels built at Granville. The ship Kate Troop, 748 tons, was built there in 1865, the Eliza A. Kenney, 1060 tons, in 1867, and the barque Crown Jewel, 716 tons, in 1868. Samuel Hall, Robert Mills and Lawrence Delap also owned and operated Granville-built barques in the ’sixties.
Digby, a town located near the entrance of the Basin, had shipwrights who were capable of constructing sizable vessels. In the ’fifties, ships of over a thousand tons were launched from Digby yards, and among the builders of the period now being discussed might be mentioned William Hicks, Jeremiah Everitt, Edward J. Budd, Ira Raymond, and C. H. Dakin. In 1862, the barque Ocean, 734 tons, was built for John Stewart, St. John, N.B. In the same year, Digby builders launched the 872-ton ship A. and E. Lovitt for the well-known Yarmouth ship-owners of that name. In 1869, the barque George W. Jones, 679 tons, was built and later owned by Yarmouth parties. In 1876, while bound from Liverpool to Sandy Hook in ballast, she vanished. Her master and mate were Nova Scotians belonging to Yarmouth.
At beautiful Bear River, Alpheus Marshall was building and operating ships in the ’sixties. In 1869, he built the barque Hattie M., 596 tons, for himself. Christopher Benson was Marshall’s master ship-builder then, and when he passed away his son, Captain John M. Benson, took over the superintendence of the yard. Captain Benson built some of the finest vessels out of Nova Scotia, and continued with Alpheus Marshall until the decline of wooden ship-building, when he left Bear River and bought the marine slip and repair yard at Meteghen, N.S. For many years he represented the American Bureau of Shipping in Western Nova Scotia, and inspected many of the wooden vessels built in that locality during the Great War. He died in 1921, aged 84 years.
Weymouth, a picturesque town nestling in a valley of the Sissiboo River, which flows into St. Mary’s Bay, was, and still is, an important lumber shipping port. The Hon. Colin Campbell, and other members of his family, built a number of vessels there for their own account. In 1868 and 1869, Campbell built the barques John Campbell, 728 tons, and Helen Campbell, 655 tons. Another barque built there in 1863 was the Wentworth, of 678 tons.
Between Yarmouth and Halifax, ship-building was carried on at Shelburne, Bridgewater, Liverpool, Lunenburg, La Have, Port Medway, Jordan River and other points. Shelburne was an important ship-building centre in the ’sixties, and among the prominent builders of square-riggers were James and Samuel Muir, Peter Young, and W. T. Kelley. Many Yarmouth-owned vessels were built in Shelburne, but during the ’sixties the crafts launched were of less than a thousand tons. One little barque, the Emma Muir, of 500 tons, carpenter’s measurement, was launched in August, 1865, by Samuel Muir. She was a superior vessel, copper-fastened and iron-kneed, and built of hackmatack and oak, and classed A.1. by the Bureau Veritas. At Clyde River in 1862, the barque Jessie Coffin, 816 tons, was built for Thomas Coffin and others of Shelburne.
La Have shipwrights built the barque Mary, 623 tons, in 1867, for Andrew Gow of Bridgewater. In 1869, the Bridgewater barque Belvidere was reported as having arrived at Muscat from Aden, testifying to the world-wanderings of Nova Scotia ships. At Liverpool, N.S., the barque Tecumseh, 635 tons, was built in 1863 for L. A. Sponagle and others, and in 1866, the barque Liverpool, 690 tons, was built for John De Wolf, Halifax. Vessels were being built everywhere in Nova Scotia during these days of good freights; Nova Scotian masters and mates were placing their seamanship and business ability on record, and Nova Scotian ship-owners and shareholders were piling up fortunes, which, in many cases, is the chief claim of their descendants to rank among the Provincial aristocracy of to-day.
As an instance of liveliness in mature years, we might mention the performance of the barque Ella Moore, 391 tons, built at Hall’s Harbour, N.S., in 1867 of hard wood and hackmatack. When owned by D. R. and C. F. Eaton of Windsor, the Ella Moore, in 1881, commanded by Captain Morris, sailed from Eatonville, N.S., for Belfast, lumber laden, on June 1st. She delivered her cargo and arrived back at Spencer’s Island, N.S., on August 1st, making the round trip in two months. The Ella Moore was 24 years old when she made this quick trip. She lived until 1891, when she was wrecked on the Nova Scotia coast.
At various places in this record, mention has been made of Captain George McKenzie of New Glasgow, N.S., and the ships he built, sailed and operated. McKenzie has been characterised as the “Father” of Nova Scotia shipping, as he came on the scene to build and operate superior ships at a time when Nova Scotia builders were constructing a few cheap and inferior craft for the sole purpose of selling abroad.
Of Scotch ancestry, George McKenzie was born in Halifax, December 12th, 1798. His father died in 1802, and the family moved to Pictou. In 1821, it is recorded that McKenzie and one John Reid, of Little Harbour, built a 45-ton schooner at Boat Harbour which was called the James William, after McKenzie’s infant nephew, James William Carmichael. In the James William, McKenzie made a voyage to the West Indies, not only building the schooner, but sailing her. Between 1821 and 1829, he divided his time between going to sea and working in the local shipyards. His ability and energy brought him to the forefront in anything he undertook. When accidents happened that defied the efforts of others to remedy, McKenzie would tackle the job and succeed where others failed. When he was still in his teens he succeeded in floating a vessel which had stuck on the ways, and this feat brought him the foremanship of Robert McKay’s shipyard at Pictou.
In 1829, he was at sea again and master of a brig called the Two Sisters, which was owned by his brother-in-law, James Carmichael, and his brother, John McKenzie. In this vessel he carried timber up the Clyde to Glasgow. Pushing his vessels up the narrow and shallow Clyde of the early days was a favourite feat of McKenzie’s, and the various craft he commanded were invariably the largest vessels to dock within the confines of the Scottish metropolis. In the Two Sisters he made the round voyage between Pictou and Glasgow in 12 weeks.
About 1840, after some years of seafaring as a ship-master, McKenzie went in for ship-building at New Glasgow. Beginning with schooners and small craft, he ultimately constructed some of the largest and finest of Nova Scotian ships, notably the Hamilton Campbell Kidston, 1444 tons, the Catherine Glen, 1326 tons, the Magna Charta, 1465 tons, and the Alma, 1108 tons. These, his largest ships, were built between 1851 and 1854, and have been mentioned elsewhere in this record.
Even while building and owning ships, McKenzie went to sea in his vessels from time to time, mostly in trans-Atlantic voyages. He was the beau ideal of Nova Scotia seamen and a sail-carrier. When he first went to sea, the good old “safety first” custom of taking in the light sails at night was regarded as prudent seamanship, and “snugging down” hours in advance of a threatening freshness of the breeze bespoke the careful master-mariner. But McKenzie changed all that in the ships he commanded. He hung out his canvas to the last minute and drove his ships under all the sail they could carry, night or day, storm or shine. But he was such a good seaman that in all his voyaging he never lost a man overboard. When master of the ship George, McKenzie left Glasgow for Pictou in company with a Scotch craft of about the same size, and both vessels raced across the Atlantic. On the passage, McKenzie ran into a severe gale and took the masts out of his ship. With characteristic energy, he rigged jury-masts and sails and actually completed the passage ahead of the rival vessel.
He acted quickly and on the spur of the moment in everything. On one occasion, in Savannah, one of his men fell overboard. Captain McKenzie could not swim a stroke, but, nevertheless, he leaped into the water and caught the drowning man and managed to keep afloat until both were rescued. Nothing was impossible to McKenzie. Physically and mentally strong, he imbued others with his energy. His ships stuck on the ways, but he moved them. One of his vessels, rigged and ready to be towed to Pictou to load, capsized and buried her yard-arms in the mud, but McKenzie had her righted and on her way in a few days. When his brother died at sea on one of his ships, McKenzie brought his body home preserved in rum. On another occasion, he was coming across to Halifax in the Collins’ liner Atlantic when her machinery broke down. For days, the master tried to make headway to the westward under sail against the winter winds. Finally, he consulted McKenzie and other ship-masters who were among the passengers. McKenzie suggested swinging around and heading for Liverpool, but as the ship was much nearer Halifax than the English port, the other masters advocated holding on. But McKenzie knew that a paddle-wheeled steamer with auxiliary sails would make but little westing in the teeth of the westerly gale, and after several days of futile endeavour to reach Halifax, McKenzie’s advice was taken. He suggested that the paddles be chopped off to make her more manageable, and this was done. The ship arrived back safely after having been given up for lost, and when Captain McKenzie eventually reached Pictou, his workmen and friends declared a holiday and formed a procession, with a piper at the head, to meet the stage coach. At this demonstration, the brusque old seaman evinced no elation, but bluntly ordered them off with the declaration that they were “a lot of damned fools” and making a fuss over nothing.
Captain McKenzie might also be credited with founding that famous school of Nova Scotian seamanship which demanded that a master and mate be able to accomplish whatever comes before them. This school required of its graduates that they not only be good seamen and navigators, but that they combine the abilities of ship-carpenters, sail-makers, riggers, stevedores, and ship’s agents while afloat. And one of its prime teachings was the inculcation of obedience and smartness into such crews as the ship might get. In the Nova Scotian nautical college, the men before the mast were assumed to be what they signed for. If an Able Seaman failed to be an Able Seaman and incapable of handing, reefing, steering, sailorising and heaving the lead, the Nova Scotia master and mate were presumed to be physically and mentally equipped to take care of the impostor and as many of his fellows as failed to come up to the scratch.
This was no “kid-glove” curriculum, but it produced men who could sail anything, anywhere; who made smart passages and kept a ship looking “spruce”; who made money for themselves and their owners, and who could tame the ugliest and most villainous of sulky and mutinous crews and make them jump on the word of command. McKenzie delighted in bringing forward Nova Scotians to command and officer his ships. He took them with him and instilled his knowledge and energy into their minds and bodies, and, if they made good, he promoted them quickly. These men were the disciples of the famous Bluenose gospel which good seamen admired and which wasters and weaklings learned to fear.
McKenzie entered politics, and was elected a member of the Nova Scotia Legislature as a Liberal. He retained his seat from 1855 to 1863. Joseph Howe, a great admirer of McKenzie, referred to him in a famous speech which he made in 1854 on “The Organisation of the Empire.” Comparing the ship-building of the Maritime Provinces with Scotland, the great Nova Scotian orator and statesman said:
“Scotland maintains upon the Clyde the greatest manufactory of ships in the world. Vessels glide up and down that beautiful stream like swallows around a barn. Scarcely a day passes but richly laden vessels arrive or depart with domestic manufactures or the products of foreign climes. Go into the factories where the mighty engines for her steamers are wrought and the noise of the fabled Cyclops’ cave is realised. The roar of waters behind Niagara Falls is scarcely more incessant or deafening, and yet, Sir, the tonnage of Scotland is only a trifle more than that of the North American Provinces. Her whole commercial marine include but 522,222 tons, while in these Provinces our shipping amounts to the splendid total of 453,000 tons. At the time of the Spanish Armada (1588) we read in old chronicles that England then owned but one hundred and thirty-five merchant ships. But then some were of great size, some four hundred tons and a few reaching five hundred tons. If my friend George McKenzie of New Glasgow had dashed into the midst of the maiden Queen’s Navy with his one thousand four hundred and forty ton ships, I fear that he would have shaken her nerves and astonished our forefathers of whose exploits we are so enamoured that we never think of our own.”
Of McKenzie’s character, the Hon. William Stairs, of Halifax, said:
“He had, of all the men I have known, the greatest power of inspiring men with his force. It never troubled him to find a man; he made men. The stout young farmer’s son he would seize as relentlessly as would a recruiting sergeant, and before he knew where he was, he made him the master of a ship. They were known as the ‘Captain’s Captains.’ He was a man who believed in men. He trusted them. He had great talent for any extra work that was beyond common men’s apprehension.”
In 1864, McKenzie built the ship Lord Clyde, 1010 tons, and in 1865, his last ship, the County of Pictou, 683 tons, was built. The Captain was in failing health then and nearly 70 years of age, but he made daily visits to the yard, and, seated on a log where he could view the work, he watched the frames being raised and the ship planked and finished. His practised eye took in every detail, and his men knew that a mistake would bring a shout from the old sea-warrior, and they worked as carefully as though he were alongside them.
Captain McKenzie passed away at his home in New Glasgow on March 17th, 1876, aged 78. John H. Sinclair, M.P., writes of him:
“He did things. He never advertised himself. In business he was universally trusted. His spoken word was as good as his written bond. His credit was good on both sides of the Atlantic. In all the ports of the world where his ships dropped anchor, the initial letters ‘G.K.’ on his house-flag was a sufficient passport among the merchants.”
McKenzie built, and owned in, some 34 vessels, ranging from schooners of 100 tons to barques and full-rigged ships of 1465 tons. He was associated in business with the firm of A. G. Kidston and Sons, Glasgow, Scotland, and with his brother-in-law and nephew, James, and James William, Carmichael of New Glasgow, N.S. The Carmichaels later on engaged in ship-building and ship-owning in New Glasgow.
Though brusque and impulsive in manner, Captain McKenzie was kind-hearted and generous to a fault, and did better for others than he did for himself. With his passing, Nova Scotia lost one of her most creditable citizens, a man who built fine ships and sailed them, and a seaman who was the first to lay down those principles of ship management which made the Nova Scotian master-mariner famous among seafarers in the days of sail and wooden hulls.
James W. Carmichael of New Glasgow carried on the work of his famous uncle, and built and owned quite a number of vessels in the ’sixties. One of these, a barque called the Othere, 647 tons, built in 1869, is credited with making a passage from New York to Greenock in 13 days, 10 hours. It is stated that when she arrived in New York to load grain it was found that she was leaking forward, and they built a bulkhead just forward of the fore-hatch and loaded the wheat astern of the bulkhead. This apparently put her in very good trim. I am not able to verify this passage.
River John in Pictou County built many ships and barques in the ’sixties for local owners. They were vessels of less than 1000 tons, but were well built and had quite a reputation as speedy craft. The principal builders were James Kitchin, Alex. McKenzie, Peter Crerar, and Charles McLennan. I have a record of twelve barques of between 500 and 600 tons built there in the ’sixties. The most prominent builders were Kitchin and McKenzie.
The Kitchin family of Pictou were originally of the Society of Friends, and Patterson’s History speaks of one, James Kitchin, an Englishman, who kept a watch-maker’s shop on Water Street, Pictou. In 1848, the Pictou Register records the building of the brig Tartar, 256 tons, by James Kitchin, jun., and several small craft were built by him in the succeeding years. The foreman and ship designer in Kitchin’s yard was Duncan Johnson, who was born on the brig Economy just after she left the shores of Scotland in August, 1819. The name was originally Johnston in Scotland, but the “t” was dropped in Nova Scotia. Johnson acquired a reputation as a skilful builder and designer, and was another natural born naval architect. Some of his ship models were exhibited at the Paris Exhibition of 1867, and it is stated that they were awarded a prize. He died in 1911, at the good old age of 92 years.
In the ’sixties Duncan Johnson designed and superintended the building of the barques Forest Queen, 575 tons, built 1862; Warrior, 617 tons, built 1864; Peter Crerar, 628 tons, built 1868. The latter vessel was a well-built craft, copper-fastened below the draught line, and she was afloat in 1916 as the Theodor and under a foreign flag. The Forest Queen was owned by Captain Robert Merriam and others of Pictou, and it was stated that she once arrived in Halifax from London in the remarkable time of 12 days. This, too, I cannot authenticate without considerable research.
Alexander Campbell began building vessels in Tatamagouche as early as 1824, and from that time until his death, in 1854, he built over 100 craft, ranging from 125 to 700 tons, most of which were sold in England. Like many of the pioneer ship-builders, he entered politics and was local member in the Nova Scotia Legislature. He was an extensive lumber shipper, and, though born poor, died a wealthy man.
D. and A. Campbell built small ships and barques at Tatamagouche from 1855 to 1877. William Fraser was their designer and foreman. In the ’sixties, Campbells built the ship Sir R. G. McDonnell, 613 tons, in 1864, and the barque Glenrallock, 587 tons, in 1869.
An idea of the values placed upon Tatamagouche-built vessels in the local Customs records during the ’sixties can be gained from the following extracts: 1863, barques Staffa, 309 tons, $12,300; Glen Tilt, 323 tons, $13,000; 1865, barque Lillie M., 349 tons, $14,960.
George Prevost Oxley built vessels in Pugwash during the period dealt with in this section. In 1869, a barque called the Avondale, 656 tons, was built there for James R. De Wolf, of Liverpool, England. In the same year, the barque City of Halifax, 853 tons, was launched. Messrs. T. and E. De Wolf and Co., Halifax, were her managing owners. In summer, she freighted deals from Halifax to Great Britain and in winter carried cotton from Charleston, S.C., to Liverpool. Captain Cochrane, of Newport, N.S., a hard-driving Bluenose, was her master, and it is reported that he ran her from Liverpool to Halifax in 16 days.
In closing this section of Canadian shipping activities during the ’sixties, we might mention that two vessels left Toronto, Ontario, for outside foreign ports and both returned safely. One of these craft was the brigantine Sea Gull, built at Oakville, Ont., in the ’sixties by John Simpson. She was chartered for a voyage from Toronto to Port Natal, South Africa, and her rig was changed from that of a schooner to a brigantine. She was fitted with double topsail and topgallant-yards, and cost her owner about $16,000. In June, 1869, she left Toronto and sailed out into salt water via the St. Lawrence canals under command of Captain Frank Jackman, of Toronto, and a crew of nine fresh-water sailors. She arrived after three months’ voyaging without mishap, and crossed the bar at Port Natal without the assistance of a tug.
In January, 1870, she left for Boston with a cargo of sugar and other products, and some 37 passengers, and arrived after a passage of 98 days. From Boston she went to St. John’s, N.F., with a cargo of flour, and from thence in ballast across to Sydney, N.S., where she loaded coal for Montreal. From the Canadian metropolis, she towed up the canals to Kingston, Ont., and freighted a prosaic cargo of cord-wood for her home port, Toronto. When she arrived there, the Sea Gull had been gone 13 months, and made a profit on her voyages of $2000.
It would appear that the Canadian sailormen of those days, whether raised on fresh- or salt-water, thought but little of traversing the globe in wooden sailing vessels which could now be hoisted up to a modern liner’s davits. Truly, the brave days of sail and wooden hulls bred the proverbial iron men!
Them packets was a sailor’s pride (for them what knew their work),
But a grim an’ gloomy nightmare for the lads as tried to shirk,
An’ the mates could make a tops’l, rig a ship or line a spar,
An’ find the longitude by sun or latitude by star.
Ye had to hand an’ reef an’ steer an’ heave the dipsy lead,
An’ if you couldn’t sailorise ye might as well be dead.
They was happy ships for sailormen, but sojers had no fun,
An’ when they dropped the killick down, the tramps would cut an’ run.
Ere embarking upon the record of the ’seventies—the palmy days of Canadian shipping—it might be well to set down here some of the distinctive features of the British North American deep-water craft in order that the student of nautical history, perusing this record, can get the proper perspective on what might otherwise appear as a somewhat arid catalogue of names and dates. Though Canadian-owned and registered vessels flew the Red Ensign of the British Merchant Service, yet sailormen of all nations placed the British North American ship in a distinct class from the vessels of the Mother Country.
To sailors of the old sailing-ship days, the British ships were invariably known as “Limejuicers”—so called from the custom of serving limejuice to the crews aboard of them, while on long voyages, to prevent scurvy. American ships were known as “Yanks,” “Yankees,” or “Down-easters.” Ships hailing from the Maritime Provinces of Canada were classified officially as British North American craft, but sailors usually named them collectively as “Bluenose” vessels. The nickname “Bluenose,” properly applied, is confined actually to Nova Scotia by many authorities, and to both Nova Scotia and New Brunswick by others. No Canadian would ever call a Quebecker a “Bluenose,” nor would the term be applied to a native of Prince Edward Island. But sailors were not so definite. A British North American ship was generally known as a “Bluenose,” whether she hailed from Quebec, New Brunswick, Nova Scotia or Prince Edward Island. The term “Nova Scotiaman” was often used in lieu of “Bluenose,” and the former name was often applied, by seamen, to British North American ships in general. Nova Scotia, oddly enough, seems to have dominated the British North American marine. Sailor talk was invariably of “hard-driving Nova Scotia skippers,” “hard-case Nova Scotia packets,” “Nova Scotia bucko mates,” etc., yet the records show that a very considerable tonnage of B.N.A. ships were owned and operated by New Brunswickers and also in Quebec. In the early ’eighties, St. John, N.B., was rated as the fourth largest wooden ship-owning port in the world, and a host of vessels were owned in other New Brunswick ports. But in 1875, Nova Scotia had 2787 vessels, aggregating 480,000 tons, on her registers; New Brunswick had 1150 vessels, aggregating 295,000 tons, and Quebec 1840 vessels of a tonnage of 219,000 tons. The great ship-building activities of the two latter Provinces, which exceeded Nova Scotia in tonnage, were lost sight of in the latter years, and Nova Scotia, by reason of her extensive provincially-owned marine and its operation by her people, while the other two Provinces were building ships for sale, overshadowed the others in the estimation of the seafaring world, and their identities were submerged. Thus, in numerous histories, and in other references to British North American ships and shipping, one would get the impression that all maritime effort in the building and operating of ships was confined to Nova Scotia.
British North American vessels were invariably equipped with the most up-to-date gear, and were better fitted out with labour-saving devices than the merchant ships of Great Britain. In this, they followed the lead of the Americans and adopted most of the innovations established by United States ship-builders in the shape of geared capstans, fly-wheel pumps, winches, patent blocks, etc.—in fact, a great deal of this equipment was imported from the States, until manufactured later on in Canadian foundries and shops.
Up to the ’fifties, all square-rigged ships carried the single topsail—a great square of canvas with from two to four reef-bands in it and which required much physical effort to reduce or stow in windy weather. In the ’forties, an American ship-master, Captain Robert Bennett Forbes, invented what was known as Forbes’ Patent Double Topsail Yards. The deep single topsail was divided in half and bent on two yards known as the upper and lower topsail-yards. The lower yard was slung with a collar around the lower-masthead and hoisted from the eyes of the lower rigging to the cap, the topmast being fidded abaft the lower-mast. The upper topsail-yard hoisted on the topmast from the lower-mast cap to the topmast-head. The fidding of the topmast abaft the lower-mast was changed later and the lower yard hoisted or lowered on the doublings of the topmast. In Forbes rig both upper and lower topsail yards had to be hoisted to set the sail. The great advantage of these double yards lay in the ease and speed with which the sail could be reduced, the lowering of the upper yard being equivalent to close-reefing the old single topsail, while the smaller area of sail required less men aloft to make it fast. Both sections of topsail in Forbes’ rig were equipped with reef-bands and tackles, bunt-lines and clew-lines. This rig was put on the American clipper ship Great Republic in 1853, and it was used on British North American vessels soon afterwards. The Yarmouth, N.S., brigantine Herbert Huntington, built in 1856, was the first Nova Scotia vessel to carry Forbes’ rig of double topsail yards. British ships did not adopt the double topsail until well along in the ’sixties. Forbes’ rig, however, was soon replaced by Howes’ patent, which was the rig of our own time, in which the lower topsail yard is slung to a truss at the lower-mast cap and the upper yard only hoists and lowers. British North American vessels adopted this latter rig in the ’fifties and long before the Mother Country.
In the early ’seventies, B.N.A. vessels adopted double topgallant-yards and sails, the Yarmouth barques Traveller and Talisman, built in 1872, being the first Nova Scotia square-riggers thus equipped. They were evidently in use a few years before that, however, as a painting of the Toronto brigantine Sea Gull, referred to in our last section, shows her with double topgallant-sails and rigged thus for her voyage to South Africa in 1869.
Practically all B.N.A. ships were fitted with a spanker which was bent and rigged the same as a schooner’s mainsail, with the luff of the sail attached to mast-hoops and a gaff which hoisted up and down. The British fashion was a standing gaff, and the sail was hauled out to gaff and boom ends, and, when stowing the spanker, it was brailed in to the mast. The spencer, a fore-and-aft gaff sail, was fitted on the main lower masts of many B.N.A. ships, and some vessels carried both main-spencer and mizzen-topmast staysail, but the spencer was discarded in the ’seventies and the orthodox staysail took its place.
Skysails were quite common on B.N.A. craft and a great number crossed three skysail-yards. Studdingsails were used up to the late ’seventies and into the ’eighties. The St. John ship Marabout, built in 1882, carried lower, topmast, and topgallant studdingsails. Bluenose ships carried plenty of sail, and were probably the last square-riggers to spread such “sailor teasers” as skysails and studdingsails.
Fitted royal-masts were to be seen on B.N.A. vessels. The Yarmouth barque Almira Goudey, launched in 1873, was probably the first Nova Scotia vessel thus fitted, and they were quite common after that date. The writer has seen this on the Maitland barque Calburga, which was launched in 1890, and I understand that fitted royal masts were installed to enable ships to pass under the New York East River bridges without having to strike topgallant-masts and yards in order to clear the spans. As a large number of B.N.A. vessels picked up cargoes in New York, the explanation seems reasonable. In making passages in ballast or with cotton cargoes across the Western Ocean in winter, fitted royal-masts would be handy in reducing the weight aloft with both mast and yard sent down.
Most B.N.A. vessels of the larger tonnage had “built” lower-masts. As long timber capable of making a ship’s lower-masts was scarce in Eastern Canada, masts were built of several pieces, dowelled and fitted together, and encircled by iron bands at certain intervals, possibly three feet in a 1200-ton ship. While such masts were very strong when new, yet they were not as satisfactory as whole spars, and many Canadian ships, when on the Pacific Coast of North America, replaced them with Oregon pine lower-masts. In the later years, B.N.A. ships often replaced their built masts with iron or steel lower-masts when in British or Northern European ports; in some ships iron lower-masts were fitted in Canada. Other spars and yards were readily procurable in Canada, the Bay Shore spruce being unexcelled for toughness and strength in this respect.
Wire standing rigging was used in B.N.A. vessels around 1870, and the running gear was invariably good manilla rope rove through easy-running patent blocks. Sails and yards were handled in pretty much the same fashion as in British and American vessels with similar equipment, though in the ’fifties and ’sixties B.N.A. ships were much easier to work than the British vessels of that time, with their heavy spars, large ropes, and common blocks in which the sheaves often failed to revolve.
A number of B.N.A. craft had wheel-houses which completely enclosed the helmsman and the wheel gear. There was a hatch in the fore-part of the wheel-house which enabled the sailor steering to look up at the sails. But wheel-houses were not a general fixture, and the bulk of the vessels had their steering gear in the open.
Iron tanks for carrying fresh water were sometimes installed in Canada while the ship was building or fitting out, but more often than not water would be carried in wooden casks. Usually when new ships reached British ports, as they practically always did soon after leaving their home ports, the wooden water casks would be replaced by iron tanks. Similarly, in the later years, Maritime Province ships would be equipped with steam winches and donkey-boilers on arrival at British ports.
Round or elliptical sterns were a feature of B.N.A. ships of the larger type, though a number had the square, and sometimes partially rounded, sterns. The ship’s name and port of registry would be painted or carved on the stern, and they were often ornamented by scroll-work and carvings. On some vessels, the ship’s name would be painted or carved upon a name-board placed on each quarter abaft the mizzen chains. Figureheads, usually a carved representation of some person or thing in keeping with the vessel’s name, were commonly used as an adornment of the stem-head. The principal ship-building ports had their wood-carvers, and some really beautiful pieces of wooden statuary were carved by them to ornament a ship’s bows, and, at the same time, some execrable images were bolted on to face the world ahead of the vessel. As much as $500 has been paid for a good figurehead, but the average B.N.A. ship could not show off a figurehead to as good advantage as a vessel of British build. Somehow or other, the Canadian builders did not bring the bows up in that beautiful sweeping arch so typical of the fine British ships of the ’fifties and later years, into which the draperies or scroll-work of the figurehead blended with artistic grace. In both Canadian and American craft, the figurehead seemed to be attached to the bows instead of growing out and blending with the sweep of stem and sheer. There were exceptions, of course, and a picture of the Yarmouth barque Susan M. Dudman, built in 1862, shows a figurehead ornamenting a bow with sweeping lines as graceful as any British-built clipper of that time.
When the age of excessive ornamentation passed and utilitarian reasons forbade the spending of money on fripperies, the figurehead was replaced by a plain carved scroll. In a good many ships there was no ornamentation of any kind.
As will be seen in the photographs illustrating this record, B.N.A. vessels arranged their poops and after-houses on a different plan from British-built ships. The poop-deck was usually flush with the main rail, and to gain the necessary head-room in the cabins, a low house from two to three feet high was built, and this occupied most of the space on the poop. On this trunk cabin were sky-lights, and around its edges there was usually a low rail on turned stanchions. The cabin could be entered from the main deck or by means of a companion at the after end of the trunk. In some ships, there was a chart-house built into the forward part of the trunk through which entrance to the cabin could be gained. The whole poop would be enclosed by a heavy wooden rail on turned stanchions. Between the cabin trunk and the poop rail was a narrow alley or gangway. The cabins would be lighted by small windows equipped with sliding shutters instead of the round ports in use nowadays.
Below decks, the accommodation was variously laid out. “Different ships, different fashions!” as the Dutchman said when he went aft to haul down the jib. The master might have his quarters to one side of the cabin, or he might have the whole after part of it. As a good many B.N.A. ship-masters carried their wives and families to sea with them, the quarters would be arranged to suit them. They would probably have a parlour furnished with tables, easy chairs, and possibly a piano or organ. The captain’s room would lead off this and, instead of a bunk, he might have an orthodox wooden bedstead bolted to the deck. There would also be a bathroom with a lead or copper bath installed as well as other toilet fixtures. The after-companion would afford ingress or egress to these quarters and would be sacred to the captain and his family.
In most ships, the captain and mate would mess together; the second mate getting his meal after the others had finished. In the fore-end of the cabin would be rooms for the officers and the steward and his cabin boy. Aboard some ships, the carpenter and boatswain and cook lived aft and had a separate mess-room in the poop. They came and went through the main-deck entrance.
For one used to the furnishings on modern sailing ships, these Colonial packets impressed one with the skill of the old-time ship-joiners in making their furniture. Everything was whittled out of wood by the men who built the ship—the tables, stairs, doors, bedsteads, closets, pantry racks, and shelves, the captain’s desk, medicine cabinet, the chests of drawers and washstands. The great beams would be beaded and often ornamented with carved rope designs, and jig-saw scrolls would serve as decorations and ventilators around the tops of the cabin partitions. A modern ship cabinet-maker would characterise such work as being crude, but a lover of the Old Colonial in handicrafts would delight in the solid simplicity and strength of the work, and view the decorations as being true and unspoiled expressions of native art.
The quarter-boats would sometimes be carried lashed, bottom up, on top of the cabin trunk, or on boat beams, or a gallows frame just forward of the poop, the bow of the boat resting on the frame and the stern on the poop rail. One or two boats would rest on the forward house located abaft the foremast. In this house the crew were berthed, and it also contained the galley and the carpenter’s shop.
Like the poop, the fo’c’sle-head was decked flush with the main rail. Some ships had a low rail around it, but a good many had nothing but a shallow coaming. On the fo’c’sle-head was the capstan, one of the ball-headed kind affected by American ships, which was geared up with the windlass underneath. On other vessels the windlass brakes would be manned on the fo’c’sle-head, the windlass barrels being below.
Sailormen of all nations testify to the Bluenose master-mariner’s all-round ability and splendid seamanship. “They have but little polish,” said the late Frank T. Bullen, “but a great deal of capacity.” However, the school in which most British North American ship-masters were trained was one calculated to make a thorough sailor out of a man rather than a poop ornament. They began their seafaring, mostly, as boys in fishing schooners and coasters, or in the forecastles of their own Provincial ships. It was a hard school, and only a strong, tough lad could stand it. Not that they were ill-treated or abused, but the master and mates saw to it that they were kept constantly employed and took part in everything relating to the upkeep and handling of the ship. There was no place aboard a Bluenose ship for a lazy or stupid boy, or one deficient in stamina or pluck, and the lad who served four years in one could be stamped as having gone through the mill and come out ground.
The young British lad who desired to go to sea and who aspired to the command of a ship invariably served his time as a premium apprentice on board a sailing ship belonging to a recognised line. Many went for a year or two through the curriculum of such school-ships as the Conway or Worcester. The school-ship training was excellent, and fitted a boy to become an officer and a gentleman, but such could not always be said of the sea training aboard a “limejuice” windjammer. Some British masters and mates of these vessels took a real interest in the ’prentice-lads and gave them a thorough schooling in the arts of seamanship and navigation, but a goodly number looked upon them as a necessary evil and cared little about their futures. On such vessels—and there were many—the boys frittered away three or four years in doing the dirty jobs of the ship, and absorbing but little of the knowledge they were sent to sea to acquire.
But on a Bluenose ship, the boy who was taken aboard to be made into a sailor and placed on the road to command was a protégé of the master or mate. He wore no uniform with a badged cap and brass buttons, and was under no delusion that he would be treated with all the respect supposedly due to an embryo officer. To acquire any such latter status, he had first to “make good,” and most of them were anxious to make good, for there was an ambitious strain in their Colonial blood that impelled them to forge ahead.
Into the forecastle he went, with his name on the Articles as “boy.” If sailing with a captain who was a friend or a relative, the boy might live aft so that his hours of leisure might be spent away from forecastle society, or he would be berthed with the carpenter or bosun forward. But he had no special privileges. As one of their own, the master and mate took a special interest in him, an interest which at times a boy would rather be without, for it meant that he was continually under their eyes and constantly under their tutelage. And the amount of work, and the multitudinous tasks that can be found for a boy to do on ship-board, is truly surprising.
Such a lad, if he were any good at all, could not help becoming proficient. All the various phases of seamanship were thoroughly drilled into him by precept and practice, and he was made acquainted with the why and wherefore of every operation. Boys were not abused on Bluenose ships, though a saucy and mischievous youngster would sometimes get a rope’s-ending. The master or mate would see that he washed and mended his clothes and took care of his personal appearance and health, and that he did not run loose around the ports. A smart, willing lad was the kind of material Bluenose skippers loved to get hold of that they might lick him into shape as a capable seaman. They took a pride in training him, with the thought, perhaps, that on some future day they would be able to point out a smart officer and say, “I made a sailor out of that young squirt!”
The British cadet and apprenticeship system was regarded scornfully by these British North Americans, and their ship’s boys were impressed with the fact that they were no “limejuice gentlemen rope-haulers” and that “brass buttons and ease” had no place on Bluenose ships. With the Bluenose ship-master, slackness and laziness and dirtiness were heinous crimes, and the boys, brought up on this doctrine, adopted it as a gospel to be revered and taught. British ships would carry from four to eight ’prentice boys; Bluenose craft seldom carried more than one or two, and this being the case, they had the additional advantage of select tuition and individual attention.
The B.N.A. ship-master did not always commence his sea-life in this manner. Some graduated from fishing vessels and West Indian traders and coasters, and joined the big square-riggers as Ordinary or Able Seamen to learn the ropes. But none of them went to sea as cadets, midshipmen, or premium or indentured apprentices.
I have met Nova Scotia ship-masters who went to sea at 13 years of age. Second mates at 16 were not uncommon, and there were any number of men who held that office at 17 or 18 years of age on big square-riggers. Mates of 20 and 21 filled the position capably and well, and there were numerous masters aged 22 years. Most of these men were “caught young,” and with the training they received, their natural aptitude for seafaring, and the vast number of Maritime Province-owned ships affording berths for native sons, it is little wonder that they were able to advance so rapidly and at such youthful ages.
The B.N.A. ship-master was a stickler for discipline. This, together with cleanliness and smartness in the appearance of their ships, was almost a fetish with them. And this brings us to that well-worn subject, the alleged nigger-driving and inhumane treatment of crews on board B.N.A. ships.
Deep-water vessels flying the Stars and Stripes were presumed to be tough packets for the crews that sailed in them. Hard work and smartness were the order of the day for the men before the mast, and the masters and mates were alleged to use every possible means to enforce their commands. The boot, the fist, knuckle-duster, belaying pin, and revolver were supposed to be every-day weapons of offence, and from the stories one would hear in the forecastles of British and foreign ships, the impression would be gained that these American ships were floating hells, and that the skippers and officers lived for no other purpose than to beat and cruelly abuse the crews under their command. Among British and foreign sailormen, in their own ships, they would say that the Yankee vessels were bad, but that the Bluenose packets were ten times worse, and the hardest of all ships to sail in.
It is undoubtedly true that authentic instances of unusual brutality are told of the treatment of crews in American and Bluenose ships, but, when one considers the vast fleets which sailed under the two flags, the ships on which abuse of seamen occurred would not amount to one per cent. of the whole.
But the stern discipline and the exacting requirements of both American and Bluenose ships made them the terror of duffers and slackers. A voyage in one of these North American craft was a nightmare to the Paddy Westers and “sojers,” and when they escaped to the comparative ease and immunity from physical punishment existing in British and foreign ships, they never tired of relating, and exaggerating, the treatment they received aboard the “Down-east blood-boat” or “Bluenose hell-ship.” Thus, their reputation spread until it almost became an institution.
The British ship-master was cursed with an Act of Parliament, the Merchant Shipping Act, which was drafted by well-meaning individuals to better the lot of the seaman on British ships. The Act, as an Act, was all right, but it robbed the master and officers of much of their authority, and gave the lazy, truculent, and incompetent man before the mast a powerful shield to ward off the punishment that was his just due. A man could be insolent to an officer and nothing could be done to him so long as he did not actually refuse duty. He could ship as an Able Seaman, and when proved incompetent his punishment would be reduction in rank to Ordinary Seaman. He could growl, curse, foment discontent, carry on his work in a lethargical and slovenly manner, botch a job he was set to do, get drunk in foreign ports and be useless for days, feign sickness and lay off duty, and carry on in a hundred and one irritating and vexatious ways without receiving any more than a verbal castigation, a “logging” or entry in the log-book, a fine of a day or two’s pay, or a bad discharge when the ship paid off. Should an exasperated master or officer, in a fit of just indignation, strike one of these insolent wasters and his forecastle shipmates see the assault, then at the first port a formal complaint would be laid before the British Consul and the offending master or officer haled before the Consul to explain. And the men would see to it that a strong case was cooked up against the unfortunate officer, who in a good many instances would be fined, reported to owners, and otherwise reprimanded, if not actually sentenced and jailed. But let it be said that good seamen in British ships were not the ones to take advantage of the Act in this manner. It was the wasters, the bums and hoboes, the sea-lawyers and trouble-makers, who unfortunately made up a considerable percentage of the men before the mast in the days of sail.
British North American ships were supposed to be amenable to the Act as British vessels, and both ships flew the Red Ensign. But Bluenose skippers and mates, strongly retaining the independent spirit which sent their forefathers to the wilds of North America, defied the “Limejuice Act” and became a law unto themselves. Being largely interested financially in their ships, the B.N.A. ship-masters did not believe in paying good dollars to men who did not earn them. In Bluenose ships, the man who signed on as an Able Seaman or any other rating was assumed to be capable of doing what work the rating called for. And it had to be done according to the highest canons of seamanship. Half-way measures and botch-work would not be tolerated for one minute, while slackness and slovenliness, insolence and “sojering” would be rewarded with such sudden and vigorous punishment that the offender would need skip lively and be tractable if he would remain aboard the ship with a whole skin.
No sailor who behaved himself, obeyed orders, and knew his work was ever abused or ill-treated aboard a Bluenose ship. Masters of B.N.A. ships were only too glad to get such men, and they treated them well when they did get them. The laudable desire to make quick passages and the ambition which imbued all Bluenose masters and officers to keep their vessels in first-class shape and always spick and span, and to do all they possibly could in the way of maintenance and repairs on board the ship and by means of themselves and the crew, meant hard work. But the generally good quality of the food served on B.N.A. ships was a great compensation, and a tremendous advance over the wretched provender provided in British and foreign vessels. Men did not mind working hard when they had comfortable quarters to retire to in their watches below, and good food, and, in addition, the seamen in such ships knew the pleasure of working under officers who were capable to the Nth degree and who could appreciate a real sailor’s skill and ability.
I will quote from the writings of J. F. Keane, a University graduate and world wanderer, who preferred the atmosphere of forecastles to the ease and culture of shore life, and who sailed as a foremast hand on Bluenose ships:
“Some of the crew were a little insubordinate at first, but they had North American mates to deal with, and soon found it out.
“The captain, mate and second mate were as hard drivers as their countrymen always are. . . . No one was struck by an officer the whole passage—no one ever gave occasion, that is the secret. As is often the case in some of the hardest-worked British North American ships, to give the devil his due, the food was of the best quality and the quantity unlimited. By the time we reached New York, a general good feeling existed fore and aft, a healthy pride in smartness and respect for skill in our officers, who took more than their share of our risk.”
Let me inject a little personal light into this subject. My father served as a premium apprentice in a British ship back in the ’sixties. After serving his four years in her, he sailed before the mast for a number of deep-water voyages in some of the best British clipper ships of that time, and then he went into Bluenose ships. In vessels hailing from Nova Scotia and New Brunswick, schooners, barquentines, barques, and large full-rigged ships, he sailed to all parts of the world for a period of ten or eleven years, joining as Able Seaman and finally sailing as mate in some of the best, and he was never tired of sounding the praises of seafaring and general good treatment in such craft. “Bluenose ships had a bad name,” he wrote once, “but I knew hundreds of men, the best sailors that ever went aboard a ship, and all British, if they went on board an American or B.N.A. craft they never wanted to go back and sail again in an English vessel.” This is the unprejudiced opinion of one who was not born or brought up in British North America, but who sailed in Bluenose ships by preference in the palmy days of sail.
It has been my privilege to have sailed, in these latter years, in many Nova Scotian vessels and to have been shipmates with a very large number of Maritime Province seamen, some of whom sailed in the old square-riggers. I have also met men who have been officers and masters of B.N.A. ships, and taking them all in all, there was no evidence of any kind whatsoever that a latent streak of callousness or brutality was hidden in their natures, or that their favourite recreation was in bouncing setting-fids and belaying-pins off the skulls of inoffensive sailors. But one could discern a contempt for incompetency and impostors, botch-work and slovenliness, and a plainly expressed opinion as to how they would treat such things. And had British masters and officers been able to exert the same authority, I have no doubt but what the seafaring world would have resounded to forecastle fairy-tales of blood-boat tactics on the “limejuice wind-wagons.”
There were a few “hard-case skippers,” to be sure, and we usually hear more about these men than of the quiet and kindly ones. A story is told of a tough nut who hailed from a small village on the coast formerly known as Indian Cove. As the residents of the place acquired wealth and got out into the world in their seafaring ventures, the name “Indian” Cove did not sound any too dignified as a hailing port. The name was therefore altered to, we will say, Pleasant Harbour. That was not the name, but it will serve.
A ship-master of that place was signing on a crew for a large ship which he commanded, and he had his brother with him as a man before the mast. They were all down at the shipping office of a big port, and when the Articles were opened, the captain signed his name. “Where is your home, Captain?” queried the Shipping Master. “Pleasant Harbour, Nova Scotia, sir.” The crew signed the Articles in their turn, and along came the skipper’s brother. He signed, and when the clerk asked for his home address, the man smirked and replied, “Indian Cove, Mister, same as the Cap’en. He’s my brother.”
The Captain turned as red as a beet, and attempted to appear unconcerned while the Shipping Master smiled and the seamen standing around sniggered audibly. However, the skipper got the crew aboard and the ship out to sea, and when she had all the muslin on her and was running off the land to a fresh breeze, the Old Man called his two mates. “Go for’ad and fetch that brother of mine aft here!”
When the sailor was fetched up on the poop, the skipper had a bowline tied in the end of the spanker sheet. To the mates he said, “Seize a-hold of that scow-banker until I get this bowlin’ over him.” There was a rough-and-tumble tussle for a minute or so, but the skipper and the two mates soon had the brother down on the deck. Then, with the bowline over his shoulders, the skipper’s brother was dragged aft between the mates. “Naow, you gabby Indian Cove gump-head,” growled the captain, “I’m agoin’ to wash the gaul-derned spruce-gum smell out of you so’s you’ll look like a white man in future!” And to the mates he bawled, “Heave him over!” And with the bowline under his arms, the unfortunate trespasser on his skipper-brother’s dignity was towed in the wake astern of the ship until such time as the latter “cal’lated the spruce-gum aroma was well washed out.”
Many yarns similar to the above, and truthful enough, were told of Bluenose skippers, but to brand all of them as being rough and uncouth is an injustice to the majority.
The Bluenose master-mariner wore no uniform. At sea, he and his officers would dress in whatever clothes they fancied, and the layman would find it difficult to distinguish them from other members of the crew should they be grouped together. Some of them looked like farmers or horse-breeders, but no men, not even in Naval Service, ever exacted more deference and respect from their subordinates. And if they failed to decorate themselves with badged caps and brass-bound suits, there was nothing lacking in the appearance of their ships, which were scrubbed, scraped, varnished and painted until they shone like the morning stars.
Few of them claimed to be sharps in navigation. There were many men whose knowledge and practice of the navigational science were profound, but the majority could find their way round the world on the mere rudiments. It must be remembered that a large number of these master-mariners were brought up in small villages and towns where schools were elementary and very often lacking. Then, again, they went to sea at very early ages. These two facts rendered their advancement in scientific knowledge somewhat difficult. Masters who were able to take big ships all over the world without mishap in the old days would fail to pass the British second mate’s examination of the present time. Schools for teaching navigation were to be found in ports like Quebec, St. John, Halifax, and Yarmouth, with a retired ship-master in charge, but in other places, the science would be taught by some educated person, a clergyman or school teacher. Many Windsor, Maitland, and Hantsport ship captains were taught navigation by Miss Eliza Frame, a school teacher in Maitland, N.S.
But whatever they lacked in the fine points of navigation, no men afloat could surpass them in seamanship. Not only were the B.N.A. ship-masters superb ship-handlers, but they had a surprising practical knowledge of ship construction, spar-making, rigging, and sail-making. It was no unusual thing for a Bluenose ship-master to take a dismasted, or partially dismasted vessel and rig her up again, lining the spars and making them out of the rough timber, fitting new shrouds, cutting out and making the sails, with nothing but the assistance of his officers and crew and the necessary ironwork, blocks, etc. The construction of ships came natural to them, and a large number of the prominent builders were ship-masters ere they went into business, and, in some cases, shipwrights ere they became ship-masters. Captain George McKenzie, of New Glasgow, was an outstanding example of this versatility.
To other qualities must be added their keen business ability. Before the days of the Atlantic and other oceanic cables and the transcontinental telegraphs, the Bluenose ship-master had to do all the business in connection with the ship in ports abroad. In addition to dickering with tow-boats and pilots and the port authorities, he purchased the necessary stores for the voyage and sought paying charters. In this latter business, his good judgment was called into play against the keen wits of charterers and brokers. He had to decide momentous questions himself. Certain cargoes would knock the ship to pieces; others might take him to a port from which no return cargo could be got without sailing a long and expensive distance; certain ports were notorious for delays in discharging and the exactions of grafting officials; other destinations were dangerous roadsteads or tortuous rivers, where tow-boating and pilotage swallowed profits—these, and many other important matters, had to be decided upon, and he had no owner at the end of a telephone or telegraph wire to advise or instruct.
As stated before, many of these men had an interest in the ships they commanded, and by careful attention to their multifarious duties they often made modest fortunes. And when the Bluenose ship-master made a dollar or two, he invariably invested it in a farm and put his family on it. In the palmy days of sailing ships, most of them made enough money to retire at an early age. Nova Scotia, New Brunswick, and Prince Edward Island had a host of these master-mariner-farmers, and some are alive to-day ensconced in comfortable homes located in lovely valleys, “lying back and taking it easy.” This passion for farming is a species of fetish among ship-masters of all nationalities, the earth-hunger after years of restricted ship-boards, desolate seas, and absence of the green growing things, but in no country was the realisation of such a fancy so attainable as in the United States and Canada. In Canada, agriculture was the prime industry of the country, and farm lands could be purchased at reasonable figures well within the reach of a moderately successful ship-master. And thus, in the Maritime Provinces, the writer has seen men driving into town with a crate of chickens in the buggy or a load of barrelled apples in the wagon, who, at one time, drove big three-skysail-yard ships over the waters of the world, and to whom Rio, Manilla, and Calcutta were as familiar as their own home towns.
In concluding this section, I would say that these deep-water ship-masters were not altogether confined to Canadians of British ancestry, any more than the ship-builders were. There were numerous French-Canadian ship-masters, just as there were many French-Canadian ship-builders, so that in speaking of the British North American in these pages, it must be understood that we refer to the men from Quebec and Acadia as well as those from English, Scotch, and Irish stock.
We now come to the awe-inspiring figure of sailor yarn and fo’c’sle legend. By all the non-Canadians I have been shipmates with, this personage was always referred to as “a Bluenose bucko mate,” and the stories of his actions on the high seas are well calculated to make one pray that he will never be in a ship’s crew under such a sanguinary-minded individual. The fabulous reputation of the Bluenose mate is such that sailormen shudder at the mention of the name, even in these enlightened days. Physically, in the legends at least, he would be a species of sea-going pugilist with a roaring voice; a blue-jawed, cold-eyed, broad-shouldered thug amazingly dexterous at throwing belaying pins and cracking the skulls of wretched foremast hands who failed to move quick enough or were dull in understanding commands. Of course he was an expert revolver shot, capable of standing in the weather alley aft and shooting splinters out of the main-topsail yard when the poor devils were aloft trying to muzzle the canvas in a gale of wind. He never spoke. He roared, and his voice would boom around the decks in a gorgeous mixture of commands and picturesque oaths. His aggressive bullying, his heavy fists and booted feet, his staysail-hank knuckle-duster, billy club, and revolver were apparently necessary to him in enforcing his authority and getting the work done. But even in the legends it was admitted that he was fearless and a splendid seaman.
Now, an individual of this sort makes a splendid character to play with in a yarn or a story, but of the many thousands of Bluenose mates who sailed the seas in the days of their wooden ships, a bruiser of the above type would be the exception rather than the rule. It is undoubtedly a fact that some hard-case mates were to be found on B.N.A. ships, men who had not education enough, or drank too much, to be given command, but who made excellent mates for the handling of unruly crews. There were certain Bluenose skippers who liked to get such men, shipping them for the mercenary purpose of making things so hot on the voyage that the crews would skip out on arrival minus their wages. But to say that such men were the usual thing on British North American ships is to affirm that all cats are black.
We already know that the mate of a Bluenose vessel was a prime seaman. Anything else would be unthinkable. And we already know that the sailor’s work on such ships was hard and constant under such officers. Then whatever would induce thousands of British and foreign seamen to sail in Bluenose ships, voyage after voyage, and year after year, by preference and voluntarily, if the mates were in the habit of abusing them in the manner aforesaid? The yarn explodes itself.
The Bluenose mate was exacting. It was as expressed in an old Nova Scotia ballad:
“The two mates picked their watches, and unto us did say,
‘If you do not know your duty, boys, she’s the hottest out of the Bay.’ ”
He expected an Able Seaman to be an Able Seaman, and if he had doubts as to a man’s ability, he would put him through a severe drilling. Impostors and Paddy Westers had a hard time of it on Bluenose ships.
For the benefit of the layman, and to give some idea of what masters and officers had to put up with in sailing ships, some explanation of the soubriquet “Paddy Wester” might here be given. A “Paddy Wester” was an impostor, a fake seaman “travelling on a dead man’s discharge.” The name originated with one Paddy West who kept a sailor’s boarding-house and “seaman’s college” in Liverpool back in the old days. West had a ship’s wheel rigged up in his back yard, and he would take aspiring recruits for seamen’s berths and show them how to steer at this wheel. Practice in going aloft and furling sail was given by having the pupils nip up into the attic and make the window-blind fast. Then the candidates for Able Seamen’s jobs were made to march three times around a table on which was a bullock’s horn, a ritual which Paddy explained was necessary if a man would speak the truth when the mate asked questions. “And if he asks ye where ye’ve been, boys,” said Paddy, “ye kin tell him, widout the word of a lie, that ye’ve been around the Horn three times, but ye don’t need to tell him it was a bullock’s horn.” After a few days of such teaching, the passed candidate was rigged out in a well-worn dungaree suit, his hands were stained with tar, and with a sheath-knife around his waist on a plaited rope-yarn, and a dead man’s discharge in his pocket, he was shipped in all his colossal ignorance aboard some ship as an Able-bodied Seaman, Paddy West taking the whole of the man’s advance pay as a fee.
Bluenose ships got such crews—shoved aboard, drugged and drunk, by unscrupulous crimps of the Paddy West type. In a good many ports, the master and mate had no chance to pick their men. They had to take what they could get through the agency of the boarding-house master who often demanded, and received, a commission from the captain for procuring a crew. From the men they shipped, these sailor-suppliers pocketed their first month’s advance wages as compensation for board and lodging while in port, outfit for the voyage, and the liquor supplied. When sailors were plentiful, ships could get good all-round sailormen; when they were scarce, the boarding-house masters would fill the deficiency with fakers of the Paddy West School, jail-birds anxious to get out of the country, and degenerates whom no master or mate would take for ballast.
Most of these fellows had no idea of the manner of ship they were on when they came out of their alcoholic stupor, and many of the hard cases would not care. Some of these rascals, recovering from a prolonged bout with vile whiskey, were in murderous temper; others were looking for a fight from force of habit, while others again—men of the hobo class—had already made up their minds to either do the voyage “on their backs” or take it as easy as they possibly could.
These were samples of the creatures that Bluenose mates very often had to handle. And the most approved method of handling such characters in the Bluenose practice consisted, to use a modern expression, of “treating ’em rough.” When the tug was ready to let go, the mates went forward and pounded on the fo’c’sle door with a stentorian, “Get out here and make sail!” And the next five or ten minutes decided whether the ship was going to be run from forward or aft.
Such occasions invariably ended in a triumph for constituted authority. Men who refused to answer the call were “knocked down and dragged out,” and booted along to the topsail halliards. Those who persisted in showing fight were roughly handled and sometimes had the belligerency hammered out of them by means of a belaying pin or a hefty fist. With one or more of their number knocked sprawling, and two determined-looking mates ready to administer more chastisement the crew quickly realised that they were either aboard a Yank or a Bluenose, and the realisation made them skip around to obey orders.
Setting sail was the time when the officers could size up the capabilities of the crew. Old hands would instinctively lay hold of the right ropes and act on words of command, but the hoboes would soon reveal their ignorance. The master, from the poop, would have classed the sailors and “sojers” by the minute the topsails were ready to set, and with the thought of his financial outlay for crew in mind, his policy would be quickly made up. “Some of these fellows have never been aboard of a ship before,” he might say, “and I’ve paid a month’s advance and ten dollars a head for them. They’ve signed for Able Seamen and they can’t do Able Seamen’s work. Well, it can’t be helped now, but I’ve got two able mates, and if they don’t make seamen out of them by the time we reach the Line, I’ll know the reasons why.”
It is difficult for shore-living folks to understand why masters and officers should even have the desire to wreak physical punishment upon incompetent seamen. But shore employers have the privilege of discharging incompetents immediately; at sea, there can be no getting rid of such characters until the ship makes her destination, and in some cases not even then if it should happen to be a port where new men are not readily obtainable. The writer has been at sea on sailing ships with such crews and has known what it was to put up with a crowd of foremast hands the half of whom were pure hoboes, unable to do the work they were getting paid for. The few genuine Able Seamen had to do all the skilled work of the ship; sails had to be made fast before there was any need for it, as the hoboes simply would not go aloft in dirty weather, and the bosun and the mates could not make them. And the irritating part of it was that these impostors knew that they could not be forced by physical means to do anything, and they openly laughed at the old bosun when he would wish that he had the crowd aboard a Yank or a Bluenose thirty years ago. “You lay a hand on us,” they would taunt him, “and we’ll fix you when we gets to Liverpool. We’d be glad of the chanst.” And, indeed, they would actually welcome an attempt to strike or boot them for the satisfaction of getting “something on the afterguard.”
There is no reason for extending a rather brutal subject and a state of affairs which was only too common in the old days. The Bluenose mate could be one of the best-hearted and kindliest of men, but the conditions of life at sea in those times and the high standard of upkeep and stern discipline of B.N.A. ships demanded certain qualities in him which would be utterly repugnant to the man who desired his sea service to be that of an officer and a gentleman. And I have met and known Canadian sea captains—pleasant, likable men and honoured in the communities in which they lived for their charity, good citizenship, and sterling characters—who have been forced, in the course of their sea careers, to handle crews with physical force in the most ruthless manner, and yet I am sure they deplored the necessity which compelled them to do so.
The tales of hard usage on Bluenose craft would be spread around by the hoboes and such-like who had undergone the process. They never made another voyage in one if they could possibly help it, and if they did, their demeanour would be such as to keep them out of trouble. But when such a character got back into the forecastle of a British or foreign ship, he never tired of relating his experiences, and seldom failed to enlarge and exaggerate on the treatment he received. Thus, the reputation of Bluenose ships spread, and it exists to-day in an age when square-sail has almost vanished from the seas, to the discredit of a splendid body of British North American seamen. But the men who were real seamen know differently.
The task of handling crews and taking care of large ships was often undertaken by very young men in the B.N.A. ships—a fact which speaks volumes for their early training aboard of them. These youngsters were the smart ones—the type that were on the road to command—and they usually attained command after a year or so as mate.
The Bluenose second mate was usually a mere youth, but he was an extremely capable youth or he would not be second mate on a Bluenose ship. His very youthfulness demanded extraordinary qualities in order to exact respect and obedience from the crew. Picture to yourself a beardless boy singing out commands to a crowd of hard-bitten foremast hands, some of whom were old enough to be his father, and who may have had more salt water on their oilskins than the youthful second mate had ever sailed on, and having his commands obeyed with smartness and alacrity. Such men only respected two things—superior seaman-like ability coupled with physical and mental dominance. No brass-bound lounge-lizard, even if armed with a gun, could make a crowd of hard cases skip around if they felt he had not the qualities to dominate them.
I am acquainted with an old Nova Scotia sea captain who was second mate of a 1000-ton ship hailing from Windsor, N.S., at the age of eighteen. The ship was towing out of Bremerhaven, and it was his job to turn the crew out to work. All of them were drunk and belligerent and refused to come out of the forecastle. When the young second mate entered the fo’c’sle to chase them out on deck, one man drew his knife and threatened to cut the young fellow’s liver out, etc. Without a moment’s hesitation, the officer reached into the adjacent carpenter’s shop, grabbed a topmaul and smashed the man on the shoulder with it. The fellow dropped like a pole-axed ox. “Now come out on deck the rest of you, and I’ll hammer the whole crowd. I’ll damn soon show you that I’m an old enough second mate to handle you fellows.” And they trooped out and turned to without a word. He had no more trouble after that.
To have retired for reinforcements would have been fatal to future discipline. But the young Bluenose second mate, unlike his brother in the British service, had no great fear of the law, and never hesitated to strike and strike quickly at the first sign of insubordination. Quickness to enforce discipline and obedience and respect, coupled with seaman-like ability, made them the smartest second mates that ever stepped a deck.
Neither of the mates was a poop ornament. They worked just as hard as their crews. In some of the smaller B.N.A. ships, where neither boatswain, carpenter, nor sail-maker was carried, the mates did the work with the crew to assist them. In taking in sail, the second mate would go aloft with the men if either of his superiors was on deck, and it was generally a point of honour with them to be the first over the shear-pole and on to the yard. In an all-hands job, reefing or stowing a big sail in heavy weather, the mate himself would be up and at the bunt of the sail. Bluenose ships had no place for officers who paraded up and down the poop.
As is the custom in both British and American ships, the second mate had charge of the starboard, or captain’s watch. The mate took the port watch.
I have never heard of a third mate on B.N.A. ships. Such an officer may have been carried on some of the largest ships, but he would be a species of glorified boatswain. As I have not run across any record of a Bluenose third mate, it may safely be assumed that they were not usually carried.
All the largest and best B.N.A. ships carried boatswain and carpenter. These were not often Canadians. Many Russian Finns sailed as carpenters in Bluenose ships, and as men of this particular nationality hailed from a country of very much the same geographical characteristics as the Maritime Provinces of Canada, they got along very well. The Russian Finn in his own country is a master of woodworking and possesses somewhat the same adaptability as the British North American in the matter of building ships and sailing them. The native Bluenose carpenter was an excellent craftsman in wood and was capable of keeping the ship in good repair as well as being able to execute big jobs resultant upon damage through the perils of the sea. But it is doubtful if he was as competent as the ship’s carpenter of Scottish nationality and training. These latter had to serve lengthy apprenticeships in the Scotch shipyards, and were usually as competent in fashioning ironwork as they were in shaping and fitting wood. Many of these men served in B.N.A. ships.
Sail-makers were seldom carried on Bluenose ships. The master and mate attended to sail-making, and were usually capable of cutting out canvas and making sails as good as any professional sail-maker. This work was looked upon as part of their training, and in the making of an entirely new sail the officers could usually call upon some of the Able Seamen to assist in sewing the seams. Ill-fitting sails were seldom seen on Bluenose craft—a testimony to their skill. Sail-making was the one job on ship-board that seamen really enjoyed, and the truly Able Seaman took pains to become proficient in handling palm and needle for the pleasant surcease that sail-making and mending afforded from the daily grind of hard work. And the Able Seaman who could stitch a neat seam and do a good job of roping and making cringles was a real treasure in the eyes of a Bluenose master or mate and would be kept well employed.
As stated before, in a good many B.N.A. vessels neither bosun, “Sails” or “Chips” was carried, and their particular duties devolved upon the master and officers.
If there was one individual in a Bluenose ship’s company who had to be up to the mark, it was the cook, or “Doctor,” as he was often called. The useless nondescript common to the old-time British windjammer—the dirty, slushy individual who could not boil water without burning it—had no place on a B.N.A. ship. Skippers on these packets did not provide good food to be spoiled by any botch performer on a galley “hell-box,” and if such a character strayed, by accident or design, into the crew of a Bluenose, he would soon be ejected from his position and sent into the forecastle as a common seaman.
Said Captain A. W. Clarke, R.N.R., before a meeting of the London Ship-masters’ Society some twenty years ago. “I went down to a big ship commanded by a Nova Scotian the other day and was much impressed by the master’s method of securing a good cook. He examined and questioned the man closely for some time and then engaged him for a week, on trial, in port.”
If the men were hard-worked on Bluenose ships they were, as a general rule, well fed. There was no “pound or pint” scale as in British ships, and “plenty without waste” was the order of the day. Any rationing would be in the matter of water. In new ships, the water had to be carried in casks, and care would have to be used in serving it out. Wooden casks were also subject to the ravages of rats, which would sometimes gnaw the casks and water would be lost. But when the ships reached British ports and got fitted with iron tanks, there would be sufficient for all ordinary uses. In those vessels with iron tanks placed in them when building the rationing would not apply. Men would only be placed “on allowance” in cases of food shortage or as a punishment for insubordination.
The British windjammer victualling scale looked passable as printed on the Articles, but it was the most wretched provender in the world when cooked and served out. If seamen had no complaint against the discipline on British sailing ships, they certainly cursed the grub provided for their delectation. Mouldy beef, salt-struck until it was as tough as boot-leather; fat salt pork not fit for slushing a launching-ways; hard bread, or sea biscuit, made of flour which had the appearance and flintiness of Portland cement; tea and coffee which were neither one thing nor the other, but a concoction of what seamen called “bush grass and mahogany saw-dust,” a pea-soup, manufactured from gravelly, dried peas so impervious to softening by boiling that the limejuice cooks used to heave a lump of washing soda into the pot to assist the process. Molasses was used as a sweetener in everything that called for it, and gobs of boiled dough, called “duff,” was the special “treat” once or twice a week. These were the main items on the sailor’s menu.
Food of this description was seldom served on B.N.A. vessels. The salt beef and pork would be of the best quality and eaten for’ard and aft out of the same harness cask. Plenty of potatoes and onions were carried and served as long as they lasted. Dried apples and cranberries, boiled rice and good pea-soup, meat hash, and similar plain food would be served and there was plenty of molasses to sweeten good quality coffee or dessert. Hard biscuit—but good Canadian or American hard-tack—was supplied for breakfast and dinner, but soft bread for supper. Often a pan of biscuit was served for the latter meal. Briefly, the food was good and it was well cooked.
But, lest I be accused of “whitewashing,” I must state that towards the latter days, when freights were low, there were B.N.A. vessels where the food was scanty and just as bad as on any hard-feeding limejuicer. This, combined with hard work, was anything but pleasant for the crews. But, in this record, I am picturing the palmy days of the Bluenose shipping era when it was flourishing, and endeavouring to maintain the proper perspective without clouding the story by dwelling too much on the dark days of the decline.
In preparing the food, the cooks had to be up to scratch and their galleys had to be clean. The Old Man himself might not be a bear for personal cleanliness, but he was usually most exacting as far as his ship’s cook was concerned. “I may have to eat a peck of dirt in my lifetime,” he would say, “but, by Godfrey, I cal’late I don’t want to eat it all at once.” And holding these views, he would rigorously inspect the galley, the pots, and the cook at regular intervals.
Very few Canadians sailed as cooks in the deep-water ships and the majority were foreigners of various nationalities. In some ships hailing from British North America a man and his wife would undertake the duties of cook and steward. The woman would look after the cabin and superintend the officers’ meals, acting as a stewardess. Such a couple would often make a contract with the master to perform these duties. In ships where the captain had his wife accompanying him this was often done.
In a British North American ship, the steward may be a man or a woman. As stated in the previous paragraph, it was quite a common thing for a man and his wife to look after the cooking and the upkeep of the cabin quarters—either one going in the galley and doing the cooking. A stewardess was much better than a man in many ways. She usually kept the cabin neater, could make more out of the food provided in the way of tasty dishes, and would superintend things pretty much in the manner of a boarding-house mistress or housekeeper ashore.
If the steward were a man, the same standard of ability and cleanliness would be required from him as from the cook. And as Bluenose skippers abhorred waste, the steward must needs keep a watchful eye upon the stores under his care, and see to it that nothing was spoiled. Coloured men were often employed as stewards. The berth was usually filled by Britishers or foreigners—not many native Canadians working as stewards in deep-water ships.
The only British North American vessels carrying a native crew were the fishing and coasting schooners, and possibly some of the small brigs and brigantines engaged in the West Indian trades. The crews of the deep-water ships and barques were composed of all nationalities. The Canadians in the forecastle were usually boys or young men aspiring to secure a berth aft. The native seaman who had not the brains to be anything more than a man before the mast went into the coasters and West Indiamen, where he would be along with his countrymen. If he could not get ahead in a deep-water ship, he would not remain in them.
Crews for Bluenose ships were picked up in whatever ports they happened to require them. In some ports a good crew of sailormen could be picked up by the master or mate without difficulty; in others, the crews were supplied by boarding-house masters and crimps who had a monopoly on the sailor market and who had to be bribed to secure a full crowd for a ship. Where the captain or mate had an opportunity to choose his crew, he invariably secured a capable and decent body of men who would sign on a Bluenose ship of their own free will. But where the foremast hands had to come from a crimp, the gang would be either good, indifferent, or frankly bad—mostly indifferent and bad. These latter were of the type that would avoid a Bluenose ship as they would a plague. When the crimps placed these birds aboard they were usually drunk or drugged and had no idea of what manner of craft they were shipping in until they woke up. Similarly, the masters and mates would be ignorant as to the quality and calibre of the crew.
Crews of the latter type were usually troublesome until tamed in the ruthless manner practised by Bluenose mates. With the fight knocked out of them and worked until they were ready to drop, these were the fellows, when they got safe on shore again, who would run to the British Consulate and prefer charges of brutal treatment against the master and officers. Mr. Consul would listen sympathetically. “Ah, you don’t say so,” he would exclaim. “And what ship did you say you were from?”
“The So-and-so, sir,” would come the respectful chorus.
“Ah, and where did you say she belonged? Liverpool? London? Glasgow?”
“No, sir, she’s a Bluenose, sir. Belongs in Novy Scosha.”
The Consul would wave his hands in a deprecating manner. “I’m sorry, my men,” he would reply, “but I am afraid I can do nothing with these Colonial ships. I might write to the Canadian Government, but I’m afraid it wouldn’t do you much good. You’d better forget it. Good day, men, and you might close the door after you.”
In a letter to the London Ship-masters’ Society, a member writes that he was present at a Naval Court held in Rio de Janeiro just prior to the Naval revolt. The Court was held on a British gunboat to inquire into alleged charges of cruelty and starvation brought by the crew of a Nova Scotian ship against her captain. The Court was composed of the gunboat’s commander, H.M. Consul, and a British ship-master.
It appears that the Consul’s senior clerk had married a pretty girl, the daughter of a Rio crimp. Through this relationship, pa-in-law was persona grata at the Consulate. In his business of securing a monopoly on the sailor supply of Rio, the crimp cajoled the crew away from the Nova Scotia ship, planning to send them out again on another vessel at a healthy advance in wages and a strong graft in fees. But a sudden turn in the political situation, a lack of longshore-men and lighters, caused a tie-up in the port and sailing ships suffered great delays in discharging. The crimp was unable to get his crew shipped out, and after feeding and housing them for twelve days, they became a drag on his hands. With the connivance of his son-in-law, the crimp, after carefully coaching the crew, had them appear at the Consulate with a cock-and-bull story of ill treatment and starvation on the Nova Scotiaman. Through the clerk, the complaint was laid before the Consul.
A Naval Court was called, the Nova Scotian ship-master haled before it, found guilty, and deprived of command. The master, on hearing the sentence, immediately announced that he was the owner of the ship and that he appointed his chief officer to take charge of her, and that he would sail in her as a passenger. The Court could not prevent that. The complaining crew were placed back aboard the ship and pa-in-law was congratulating himself on getting rid of a liability.
But the Nova Scotian skipper had been working. In due time, his ship was discharged and towed out to sea. When well outside the harbour, a tug came steaming alongside and a crowd of sailors, with their bags and dunnage, clambered aboard. The Bluenose skipper and his mates, revolvers in hand, rounded up the old gang and chased them over the side down into the tug. Casting off the hawser, they sheeted home and stood away, leaving the astonished crowd on the tug to return to pa-in-law and the Consul with a further instance of Bluenose cruelty.
No sailor could ship on a B.N.A. vessel and expect an easy time. Masters and officers believed in the axiom that to keep a crew constantly employed was to keep them from breeding trouble. In addition to handling the sails and steering, there was continuous employment in making and mending sails, putting on chafing gear, replacing rigging, and keeping all the standing and running gear in good preservation. This was the pleasant labour of ship-board. But the ship’s hull, houses and spars had to be kept spick and span in accordance with the ideas of the average Bluenose officer. As Sailor John rhymes it:—
“They were hell on scrapin’ wood-work and we done it rain or shine,
In the Winter North Atlantic or a-broilin’ on the Line.
While the moon was doin’ duty as the Nova Scotia ‘sun,’
They kept the watches busy, for the work was never done.
“Ye scrubbed the decks each mornin’ watch—they kept ye on the hump,
With a bucket and a draw-rope as a Nova Scotia ‘pump.’
We cleaned a heap of painted work when under their command,
And Nova Scotia ‘soda’ was a canvas rag and sand.”
On a good many Bluenose ships the men got no afternoon watch below, but were kept working. And if they were inclined to be truculent they were kept employed at night also for the purpose, as one Nova Scotia mate expressed it, “of makin’ ’em so derned tired when their watch was up that they’d have no heart to git jawin’ around in the fo’c’sle and cookin’ up mischief.”
Spotless and well-scrubbed decks were almost a fetish with most Bluenose mates. And many a crowd of foremast hands, down on their knees and scrubbing the planks with holy-stones and salt water with all the strength and energy they were capable of, would be exhorted to further efforts by the mate’s declaration, “I want them there decks as white as a hound’s tooth and as clean as a well-sucked pipe-stem!” And when the planks were dry and snowy, there would come a menacing warning from the officer anent the spilling of tar or paint, or the expectorating of tobacco juice, on the said decks, to the effect that the offender would be made to get down “and scrape the marks out with his teeth.”
And when the ship was clean and shining like the morning stars, it was a poor mate who could not invent more work, even if he had to set the hands to polishing the great links of the chain cable of the bolt-heads in the timbers.
They built ’em in Annapolis, Windsor, River John,
Jest as able packets as you ever shipped upon.
Yarmouth ships, Maitland ships, hookers from Maccan,
The kind o’ craft that took the eye of any sailorman.
Them fine old wind-bags—them Nova Scotiamen!
A whole volume, nay, a series of volumes, could be written upon the British North American shipping of the ’seventies, but in this survey I must restrict myself to touching but the high lights here and there to portray some little picture of those palmy days of sail.
During the ’seventies, Nova Scotia forged ahead and became the leading ship-building and ship-owning province; New Brunswick came second, with Quebec third, and Prince Edward Island fourth. The year 1874 was the peak year of Maritime Province ship-building and ship-owning, something like 490 vessels aggregating 183,010 tons having been built and registered that year in Canada.
But from this date, the decline of native ship-building set in, though the tonnage registered in 1883 was higher than in any other year. The addition, however, was steam tonnage, the number of steamers increasing from 558 vessels aggregating 68,760 tons in 1873 to 1006 vessels aggregating 903,539 tons in 1883, the number of ships built and registered in Canada during 1883 being 374 vessels registering 74,090 tons.
The discovery of oil in Pennsylvania gave a great impetus to the ocean carrying trade in the early ’seventies, and a host of B.N.A. vessels freighted petroleum across to Europe. Guano from the Chinchas afforded many a cargo to Bluenose ships in addition to the lumber, grain, and cotton eastward, and the coal and iron westward.
The Nova Scotia ships built in 1870 were mainly under 1000 tons—handy vessels for which cargoes were readily available and which did not cost too much to build and operate. Yarmouth added shipping to the amount of 16,258 tons to her register in 1870, the largest vessel of the year being the Royal Charter, 1247 tons, built at Tusket, N.S. Two years later this ship was lost on Anticosti while on a voyage from Antwerp to Montreal. Another Royal Charter was afterwards built.
Ship-building up the Bay of Fundy around Windsor began to develop greatly. A ship called the Algonquin, 1234 tons, was built at Maitland in 1870 for St. John owners. Shubael Dimock at Windsor built the ship Beethoven, 959 tons, for himself, and at Summerville, N.S., the barque Belgium was built by George Armstrong for his own account. A little barque of 341 tons, called Bluebird, was built in 1870 by A. C. Ellis, Cornwallis. She was a smart sailer and was afloat in 1916 and known as Carlos under a foreign flag.
The Hon. David McPherson at Halifax built the barque Fannie M. Carvill, 592 tons. She was launched from the same site as the present Halifax Shipyards, and was the first vessel chartered by Isaac H. Mathers for the Carvill Line of Clipper Packets running between Halifax and English ports. Mr. Mathers had her named after the wife of the head of the English firm which he represented.
In 1871, J. W. Carmichael of New Glasgow built the ship Ragnar, 999 tons, for himself. She was a superior vessel built of spruce and yellow pine, copper and galvanised iron-fastened, and iron-strapped. In 1905 she was afloat as the Dutch barque Eems. At Cornwallis, in the same year, was launched the barque King’s County, 858 tons, the forerunner of the big ship of that name. She, too, was afloat in 1905 under the Russian flag. Killam Bros., of Yarmouth, had the barque Peru, 820 tons, built there in 1871, and she was the forerunner of the Lima, Bolivia, Ecuador, Patagonia, and other similarly named ships which sailed under the Killam house-flag later on. In 1871, the ship Lennie, 984 tons, was built at Belliveau’s Cove for W. D. Lovitt and Smith Horton of Yarmouth. In 1875, this vessel became world famous by reason of the mutiny which occurred on board.
The Lennie left Antwerp on October 23rd, 1875, bound for Sandy Hook for orders and in ballast. The master was Captain Stanley Hatfield, of Yarmouth; Joseph Wortley, of Belfast, and Richard McDonald, of St. John, N.B., were mate and second mate. The steward, who is the most prominent figure in the story, was a brawny Belgian, Constant Van Hoydonck, by name. The crew were a mixed lot consisting of four Greeks, three Turks, one Austrian, one Italian, one Dane, and one Englishman. These men were brought over from London by a shipping master and as soon as they got aboard the Lennie towed down the Scheldt.
In sailing out of the Channel, the master and mates had trouble with the crew, and while rough words were used to make them step around, there was no evidence that any of the officers used physical force towards the men. Early on the morning of October 31st, when the ship was well out of the English Channel, the captain gave orders to tack ship. It was about four in the morning, and both watches would be on deck to handle the yards. Van Hoydonck, in his berth, heard sounds of a row on deck. The captain’s voice could be heard anathematising the crew for getting the braces foul. “This is always the case,” he said. “You are no sailors, you’re a bunch of sojers!” One of the Greeks, Big Harry, jumped away from the main-braces, whipped out a knife, and plunged it into Hatfield’s stomach. The captain ran around the poop shouting, when another Greek set upon him and stabbed him in the head. Big Harry came up, threw his victim to the deck and killed him. The second mate, McDonald, rushed to the captain’s assistance, only to be stabbed several times and killed by the Greek, Big Harry. Wortley, the mate, was on the fore-yard, but after being shot at by one of the men, he came down on deck and was stabbed and killed by the cook. The three officers were then thrown overboard.
During the murders, the Belgian steward tried hard to get on deck, but the mutineers locked the cabin doors and battened down the sky-light. Later in the morning, they came down into the cabin and proposed that Van Hoydonck take charge of the ship and navigate her to a port in Greece. One of the men had an uncle there who would get rid of the vessel. Apparently in fear of his life, the steward, who could navigate, agreed.
Instead of heading for Gibraltar, Van Hoydonck made his ignorant shipmates square the yards and gave the helmsman a course for the Bristol Channel. When the ship was under way, the mutineers swabbed up the blood-stained decks and erased the ship’s name from name-boards and lifeboats.
Next day, the vessels coming out of the Channel excited the suspicions of the crew, but Van Hoydonck successfully bluffed them by altering the course at noon, after an observation, and heading for Isle de Re, on the French coast. As the wind was a dead muzzler for standing across the Bay of Biscay towards Gibraltar, the Belgian persuaded the mutineers to let go the anchor at Sables d’Olonne roadstead and await a fair slant. While at anchor there, the steward and the cabin-boy wrote a number of letters in French and English, explaining the situation and appealing for help, and these were enclosed in bottles, sealed, and thrown overboard. Next morning, November 5th, the mutineers made Van Hoydonck take the ship to sea again.
The men then got suspicious of Van Hoydonck and relieved him of command. For two or three days they bucketed around outside, hopelessly incompetent to handle the vessel or fetch any definite port. When signs of bad weather loomed up, they approached the steward again and asked him to take charge once more. He reluctantly consented to do this, and using the rising gale as an excuse, ran the Lennie back into Isle de Re, telling the crew that the ship was now off Cadiz. While urging them to anchor, one man swore that it was not Cadiz, and the steward was again deposed. However, the fellow who took charge was unable to handle the ship, and beat out to sea, and Van Hoydonck’s services were again requisitioned. He advised them to anchor, which they did, and the Belgian actually bluffed them into paying out sixty fathoms of chain with the ship in only eight fathoms of water. “This was to give them plenty of time and trouble in getting the anchor up,” he said afterwards.
The work this man did can hardly be appreciated. Handling a pack of murderous Levantines of the worst type, he successfully played one man off against the other so that they never agreed to anything unanimously: some he frightened by forecasts of what would happen to them; others he secretly promised to clear should the ship be captured, and on other occasions he openly defied them to kill him. Some of the men wanted to murder the cabin-boy for fear he would talk. Van Hoydonck threatened to kill the man who tried it. And thus it went on, day after day, and his nimble wits and dauntless courage kept the mutineers in half-suspicious abeyance.
While at anchor off Isle de Re, Van Hoydonck hoisted a distress signal, telling the crew that it was only to let the shore authorities know that the ship was wind-bound. A French pilot boat came out in answer to the signal; the steward was forced to go below while one of the mutineers informed the pilot that the ship’s chronometer was run down and that she was wind-bound. The pilot actually came alongside and demanded a fee for being brought out, and while the spokesman was making excuses, the Belgian had to remain silent or risk a knife in his back.
During the time the Lennie lay anchored, Van Hoydonck and the cabin-boy spent their nights writing appeals for help and throwing them into the sea. Two or three dozen messages were cast overboard in this manner. On November 9th, some of the men began to show a desire to quit the ship and get ashore. They asked Van Hoydonck about the country. “A fine country,” replied the heroic steward. “It’s a republic and they have no police. It’s the best possible place to go ashore.” Taking heart at this, six of the worst characters launched a boat and pulled ashore. Those who remained, genuinely afraid for their necks, began to enlist the steward’s aid in clearing them with the authorities. When the six ringleaders had left the ship, the Belgian hoisted the distress flag again.
In the meantime, a bottle message had been picked up, and the French gunboat Travailleur was scouting up and down the coast looking for the Lennie. In the afternoon of November 10th, she came alongside the Yarmouth ship, and Van Hoydonck hailed her. A man-o’-war’s crew came aboard, took charge of the ship and the remaining members of the crew, and telegraphed information about the deserters up and down the French coast. All were shortly afterwards arrested.
The trial of the mutineers took place in London, and four of them, two Greeks and two Turks, were sentenced to death and duly executed. Van Hoydonck was publicly commended for his actions and honoured by decorations from four Governments. With the salvage which the Belgian received from the Lennie’s owners, Van Hoydonck opened a public house in the Shadwell district of London.
A big ship of 1872 was the Rossignol, 1509 tons, built at Tusket, N.S., for Yarmouth owners. Twenty years afterwards she went ashore up at Port Greville, N.S., and was sold to foreigners. George T. Soley of Liverpool, England, owned a large share of her, as he did of many Canadian-built vessels which he operated. Another big Yarmouth ship of this year was the Ryerson, 1428 tons, built at Salmon River for John K. Ryerson and others. The Yarmouth barques Traveler, 830 tons, and Talisman, 953 tons, built in 1872 at Church Point and Beaver River respectively, were the first Nova Scotia craft to be fitted with double topgallant-yards. The ship Lillie Soulard, 997 tons, built also in 1872 at Port Gilbert, N.S., for Yarmouth owners, and afterwards cut down to a barque and renamed Lockwood, was one of the last wooden square-riggers on the Canadian register. She was listed in 1920.
Alpheus Marshall, of Bear River, built the barque Alpheus Marshall, 922 tons, there in 1872, and she was the largest vessel so far built at Bear River. Another barque of the same name, of 1096 tons, was built in 1881 for Troops of St. John.
At Tatamagouche, N.S., D. and A. Campbell built the ship Jumna, 877 tons, in 1872. She was designed by William Fraser, Campbell’s designer and foreman, and was the largest and best known vessel built at Tatamagouche. She was owned by Chas. Primrose, Pictou.
One of the largest “up the Bay” vessels of the year was the ship Algoma, 1183 tons, built by A. McCollum at Maitland for Fred. Curry, Newport. At Newport John Harvie built the ship Lyra, 1089 tons.
In 1872, the barque J. F. Whitney, 700 tons, was built at Parrsboro’, N.S. She was a fast vessel and, under the command of Captain George D. Spicer, and later his brother, made some excellent passages. Commencing in April, 1873, and for a period of five years thereafter, the J. F. Whitney made a passage average on North Atlantic voyages of 21 days to the eastward and 31 days to the westward. In March, 1880, Captain George Spicer made his fastest passage in her, running from New York to Gravesend in 16 days. In December of the same year, she ran from Amsterdam to New York in 19 days under Captain Spicer’s brother. In June, 1875, she sailed from Doboy, Georgia, to Liverpool in 19 days. The J. F. Whitney was named after the head of a New York shipping firm largely interested in “up the Bay” vessels, and a great many of her eastward passages were made with barrel petroleum cargoes to British and continental ports. The Whitney measured 161·2 × 33·5 × 19·2 feet, and was owned by William H. Payzant, Windsor, N.S.
In 1872, the 600-ton barque Piskataqua was built at Noel, N.S. Osmond O’Brien, of Noel, was her owner. Under Captain Scott, she made some good passages. Leaving Buenos Ayres on March 17th, 1878, she arrived at Havre on May 20th, a run of 54 days. Her best passage was made in 1883, when she left Monte Video on March 4th and arrived in Boston on April 20th—a passage of 45 days. One of her officers told me that she really made the run in 42 days, anchor to anchor, loaded with dry hides and baled wool, with the March Trades blowing strong. She was a smart little vessel and made many good passages.
In 1873 the barque Almira Goudey, 971 tons, was built at Annapolis, N.S., for Zebina Goudey and others of Yarmouth. She was noteworthy as being the first Yarmouth, and possibly Nova Scotian, vessel to have fitted royal-masts. In 1874, while on her second voyage from Baltimore to Bremen with a general cargo, she ran ashore at Vlieland, Holland, and became a total wreck. At the time of her stranding, the Almira Goudey had made the passage from Fortress Monroe, Virginia, to Vlieland in 18 days.
In 1873, the second Royal Charter, a ship of 1304 tons, was built at Tusket for N. Churchill, jun., and others. Other large Yarmouth-owned ships built this year were the Regina, 1212 tons; Oasis, 1151 tons; Annie Goudey, 1135 tons, and Joseph Milbury, 1078 tons, all constructed in the vicinity. The ship Regina was afloat until 1883, when she foundered in the North Atlantic. A brief summary of her captain’s story is given herewith.
The Regina left Philadelphia on November 15th, 1883, with a cargo of petroleum for London, and under the command of Captain Joseph Bain.
“On November 30th,” he stated, “the ship met heavy weather, and while hove-to under a main-trysail, a shift of wind brought the sea on the lee bow and it broke on board, carrying everything before it. Set foresail and fore-topmast-staysail in an effort to get ship before the wind, but she was lying over so much that she would not answer her helm. The fore-sheet then carried away and the sail was blown to ribbons; the sails on the yards, furled in the gaskets, also flogged to pieces. At 10 p.m. a heavy sea struck the Regina on the starboard beam, carrying away the stanchions from the topgallant forecastle to the poop-break, ripping up the hatch tarpaulins and hatch bars of the main hatch. Tried to get a sail over the main hatch, but the sea making a clean breach over her the men were washed away into the lee scuppers and were with difficulty rescued. After several attempts it was found impossible to secure the hatches and prevent the sea getting below. Early next morning, the wind moderated, but a fearful sea rose and washed over the ship, which was gradually filling with water. Cut away the main- and mizzen-masts to keep her from going over. At 8 a.m. she was full of water and fell off before the sea. The main hatches were burst up and the cargo (barrelled oil) commenced to float out. With the sea continually breaking over the ship, all hands were brought aft on to the poop. On the morning of December 2nd, the decks began to break up and the cargo started from the lower hold, coming up with such force that it carried the main deck and part of the beams with it. Previous to this we had made a raft, as all of our boats were smashed but one. Before the poop deck began to break up, we launched the raft, and were getting the boat ready to launch when the ship listed on her beam ends and threw the boat into the water with ten men besides myself. We all succeeded in getting into the boat and on the raft. The mate, second mate, steward, cabin boy and two seamen were left on the ship, one man being drowned a short time before this. Soon after leaving, we got to the raft and put all on it, except three seamen and myself, and made the boat fast to the raft, using it as a drag. About an hour after leaving the ship our boat capsized and we lost our provisions and water. I got from under the boat and turned it over, and the men were still clinging to the thwarts. We hauled the boat up to the raft and all got on it. As we could do nothing with the boat we cut it adrift. We had not been on the raft more than fifteen minutes when it capsized, but we all succeeded in getting on the bottom of it again. While the boat was afloat, the two drifted faster than the ship; but after it capsized, the ship drifted faster than the raft; consequently, it came down on us again, and five men jumped on board, leaving five others and myself on the raft and eight men on the ship, the mate, steward and one seaman having left the ship shortly after we did on a piece of the poop deck. The steward was ultimately washed off and drowned, the seaman drank salt water, went mad, and died, but the mate was picked up two days afterwards by the barque Boroma and landed in Liverpool.
“After the five men jumped on board the Regina, she drifted away to leeward. At dark we could see the men in the mizzen chains; the next morning we could see nothing of her. We were in water up to our knees all the time and were continually drenched with the sea breaking over us. After two days of soaking we began to suffer terribly from hunger and thirst. On the third day our sufferings were past describing. One man went mad, and we had to lash him so that he could not get at the salt water. At about noon on December 6th we sighted a sail standing towards us. He passed us about two cable lengths off. He hove to, clewed up all his sails except his lower topsails and mizzen staysail and lay for about half an hour, when he made sail again and left us.
“Our feelings can be better imagined than described when we found that he had really abandoned us, and it was hard to believe that a man calling himself a sailor could do such a thing, it being fine at the time. Another day and night were spent on the raft, with every prospect of a gale of wind from the S.W., but through the special providence of God, at noon the next day we saw another sail standing for us, which came towards us and hove-to. He put his boat out, though there was a strong breeze and a heavy sea at the time, and came and got us. We were so weak they had to lift us off the raft and into the boat. We were taken aboard the barque Helen Finlayson of Ardrossan, Captain Alexander Baker, and everything possible was done for us. In fact, it was to the kind and skilful treatment of the captain and his officers that we owe our lives, for we were very weak, and the least mistake might have proved fatal. By the time we arrived in Cork, we were all quite recovered. No tidings were received of the five men who remained on the wreck. The rescued mate was Nehemiah C. Larkin, of Little River, N.S.”
In 1878, the Joseph Milbury, Captain Western, sailed from Galveston, cotton laden, on February 2nd, and arrived at Liverpool on March 5th. She discharged her cargo and sailed from Liverpool for Yarmouth, N.S., on March 16th, arriving at her home port on April 5th, and making the westward passage in 19 days. The round voyage from Galveston to Liverpool and thence to Yarmouth, including 11 days in Liverpool, was made in 61 days.
In 1873, Ezra Churchill and Sons built the fine ship Forest, at Hantsport, N.S. The Forest was 202·3 × 40·8 × 24·5 feet and registered 1422 tons. The pitch pine in her construction alone cost $9000, and she was completely iron-kneed, copper-fastened up to the water-line, ceilings edge bolted, and built under special survey of English Lloyd’s. At this time, the ship-builders and owners of the Windsor district were strong rivals of the Yarmouth shipping men, and a spirit of competition in ship-building existed between them in a friendly way. The Windsor men claimed that Yarmouth built a tubby vessel, and no doubt the latter had some criticism to make of the “up the Bay” ships. But when the Forest came out, the Hants County newspaper challenged the Yarmouthians to build as smart a model if they could.
The Forest had a short life, which ended in disaster. In September 1877, while bound up the English Channel off Portland, she crashed into the port broadside of the Shaw, Savill, and Albion ship Avalanche, bound from London to Wellington, N.Z., with cargo and 60 passengers. The third mate and two A.B.’s of the English ship managed to clamber aboard the Forest, but the 60 passengers and the master, first and second mates, and about 25 of the Avalanche crew were drowned. The Forest also sank, but her crew had time enough to launch four boats which were picked up next day in safety.
In 1873, Bennett Smith built the ship Malta, 1228 tons, at Windsor, and Shubael Dimock the Lizzie Ross, 1150 tons. The latter was afloat as a Norwegian barque in 1905.
The year 1874 was a big ship-building year in Nova Scotia, and at that date the Province had no fewer than 826 square-riggers on her register, consisting of 104 ships, 300 barques, 9 barquentines, 29 brigs, and 384 brigantines, in addition to hundreds of fore-and-afters. This will give an idea of the magnitude of the fleet, built, sailed by Nova Scotian skippers, and owned to a very large extent in the Province at that time. This year is also noteworthy for the launch of the ship Wm. D. Lawrence, the largest wooden square-rigged ship ever built in British North America.
At Maitland, N.S., in September 1872, William Dawson Lawrence laid a keel of 244 feet 9 inches in length for a three-masted full-rigged ship that would exceed all previous British North American vessels in size. The planned dimensions were:—
Length of keel | 244 | feet | 9 | inches. |
Length on deck | 272 | ” | 6 | ” |
Extreme beam | 48 | ” | 7 | ” |
Depth of hold | 29 | ” | 5 | ” |
The construction of this ship was an ambitious undertaking on the part of Lawrence and his brother, Lockhart Lawrence, who was foreman builder, as such a large vessel had not been attempted since the Wrights, of St. John, N.B., built the Morning Light in 1855. Work was not regularly carried on until April 1873, and it was October 27th, 1874, when the ship Wm. D. Lawrence—named after her designer, builder and owner—was launched. It was a memorable event in Canadian ship-building annals when this big ship took the water, and had it been elsewhere but in a quiet little Nova Scotia town on the banks of the Shubenacadie River, there would have been a great furore, and Lawrence’s genius and skill would have been proclaimed to the four corners of the earth. At the time of her launch, the Wm. D. Lawrence was the second largest wooden sailing ship afloat, the largest being the New York ship Three Brothers, formerly the U.S. steamer Vanderbilt, as the Great Republic, Donald McKay’s masterpiece, had been lost off Bermuda in 1872. If one wanted to discount the Three Brothers as being but a converted steamer, the Wm. D. Lawrence could claim to have been the largest wooden sailing ship in the world in 1874.
The Wm. D. Lawrence was built of spruce chiefly, with some hard wood—stem, stern-post, etc.—and she was copper-fastened to the deep-draught line and iron-fastened above. Her carpenter’s measurement gave her a tonnage of 2858 tons, and Lloyd’s registered her as 2459 tons. Her draught amidships when light was 11 feet, loaded, 26 feet. She had two decks and beams for a third deck which was not laid, and her dimensions according to Lloyd’s were 262 × 47·6 × 29·2 feet. She was rigged by John Macdonald, of Pictou, N.S., and her sails were made by Thomas Forhan of Halifax. The firm of Thos. Forhan and Co. are still doing a sail-making business in Halifax. Her spar draft was as follows:—
Length of mainmast, keelson to truck | 200 | feet | 8 inches. | ||
” | main-lower-mast | 100 | ” | ||
” | fore-lower-mast | 95 | ” | ||
” | mizzen-lower-mast | 85 | ” | ||
” | fore and main yards | 95 | ” | ||
” | cross-jack yard | 72 | ” | ||
” | upper main-topsail-yard | 72 | ” |
Her lower masts were built spars and measured 44 inches in the hounds.
Her total spread of canvas was 8000 square yards. When ready for sea, she cost her owner $107,453. Including captain and officers, she carried a crew of 35 men.
Captain James Ellis, son-in-law of W. D. Lawrence, left the Pegasus and took command of her, and I understand that Lawrence himself sailed in her, as a passenger, during the first two years of her life afloat. Her first voyage was with a cargo of deals from St. John, N.B., to an English port, and while in England she was fitted with a donkey-boiler and winch. She apparently went with a cargo of coal to Aden after that, and left there in September, 1875, for Callao. The run to Callao was made in the good time of 83 days, the ship arriving there on December 6th, 1875. On December 14th, she cleared at Callao for the Chinchas to load guano for Europe.
The Wm. D. Lawrence was no clipper. I have seen her model, and from the look of it I would judge that she was a great ark of a vessel designed to pack a cargo. Any fast passages she made would be with the wind aft and her skipper cracking on. While Wm. D. Lawrence was aboard her, I have been told that he was exceedingly anxious to see what she could do when given a chance, and on her first or second voyage, guano-laden and bound for Europe, she was running her easting down in the South Atlantic with a stiffening breeze astern and logging fifteen knots under a press of sail. Captain Ellis wanted to reduce some of her canvas, but his father-in-law said: “Hold on a bit until the log reads sixteen knots. She’ll make it.” A few minutes later she dived into a big sea, and in fetching up, the three topmasts, topgallant-masts, and yards went over the side—a beautiful mess. The spars brought up alongside and they were able to rescue them and refit the ship. One can picture this incident. The big ship storming along through the high-rolling gray-beards of the Southern Ocean at a fifteen-knot clip and the tall spars pitching over into the sea with a thundering crash when she fetched up on the back of a huge surge. Then rolling and plunging in the swells for hour after hour while her crew sweated and toiled clearing the fouled mess of stays and running gear, yards and sails, and rigging tackles to heave the spars aboard again. And then followed days with all hands working to send the topmasts and topgallant-masts aloft—not in smooth water and fine weather, but down in the windiest and stormiest seas in the world.
She is recorded as leaving Aden on March 2nd, 1878, for Callao, and arriving there on July 28th, a poor passage of 148 days. Loading guano at Huanillos, she sailed again on December 23rd, 1878, and arrived at Falmouth, for orders, on April 9th, 1879, 106 days out and an ordinary passage. After that she sailed in the Eastern trade, and I find that while bound from Calcutta to London, she put in at Mauritius on May 3rd, 1880, to land Captain Ellis for medical treatment. The mate, James Tornay, brought the ship home, arriving in London on August 4th, after a passage of 140 days from Calcutta. In 1880, she made a passage of 138 days from Newcastle, England, to Bombay, and in 1882 a 122-day passage from Liverpool to Bombay.
Captain William Lawrence, jun., took command of her later on. He was a hard-driving Bluenose skipper and it is said he made the best passages in her. According to information furnished me, he made a round trip a month quicker than did his brother-in-law, Captain Ellis, and by his rapid passage cleared $1000 extra for his father, who was so pleased that he gave him the money as a present. On this trip, it is said, Captain Lawrence drove her like a madman, cracking on and carrying sail until he had his crew scared stiff. Through pressing her, he sprung the foremast, a spar two feet square, at the masthead. Owing to her good performance on this passage, W. D. Lawrence was able to sell her to the Norwegians for $86,000.
I have taken the trouble to look up this passage upon the meagre details furnished, and find that the Wm. D. Lawrence sailed from Narakal, Cochin, S.W. India, on September 23rd, 1882, and arrived in London on January 3rd, 1883, making the passage in 101 days. She was sold to the Norwegians on arrival, who renamed her Kommander Svend Foyn.
During the period she was owned by Lawrence she made a clear profit of $140,848. The Norwegians had her engaged for many years in the oil trade out of New York, and it is said that she made another fortune for the people who bought her.
In 1890 or thereabouts she loaded deals at West Bay, near Parrsboro, and not many miles from where she was built. Many Maitland people, anxious to see the old ship again, organised an excursion and visited her, and men who had sailed in her actually found that the donkey-man who had served in the ship while under the Lawrence ownership was still working in that capacity with the Norwegians.
The Kommander Svend Foyn was ultimately converted into a barge and has since gone the way of old ships. She was not a clipper, but she was a money-maker, and the ship herself together with her career will stand as a typical instance of the genius of the builders and owners of the Maritime Provinces of Canada in the brave old days of sail.
I have been told that in the ’seventies one could count 40 vessels on the stocks on both sides of the bay around Maitland and as far up the river as one could see. Of the larger ships built in Maitland in 1874, the Mohur, 1413 tons, W. H. Corsar, 1410 tons, and Maggie E. Seed, 1367 tons, might be noted here. All these ships were owned in England shortly after building, and the Maggie Seed and Mohur were afloat as barques under the Norwegian flag 30 years afterwards.
Seven ships registering over 1000 tons were built in the vicinity for Nova Scotian owners in 1874, the largest being the ship Princeport, 1213 tons, built at Princeport for Robert Boak, jun., of Halifax. Ship Lalla, 1099 tons, was built at Maccan for T. E. Kenney, Halifax; ship Rhine, 1093 tons, built at Windsor by and for Shubael Dimock; ship Mary Stewart, 1071 tons, at Nappan for John T. Smith, Amherst barque Chignecto, 1032 tons, at Cornwallis by and for D. R. and C. F. Eaton; barque Antwerp, 1031 tons, at Newport for J. E. Newcomb, Hantsport, and ship Senator, 1020 tons, at Horton for J. B. North, Horton. About 16 or 17 barques of from 500 to 1000 tons were also built in the locality in 1874.
Yarmouth owners acquired no fewer than 20 ships and barques in 1874, ranging from 850 to 1200 tons. Freights were good for sailing ships, and almost everybody in Yarmouth was interested in shipping. Something like 22,500 tons of shipping were built for local owners during 1874.
A barque of 1114 tons, the H. A. Parr, built for A. C. Robbins and others of Yarmouth, made a passage of 89 days from New York to Callao, arriving there on July 31st, 1877. A Captain Robbins of Yarmouth was in command.
The ship N. W. Blethen, 1092 tons, was built in 1874 for Dennis and Doane, Yarmouth. Under the command of Captain J. Frank Cox, of Barrington, N.S., she left Baltimore on July 25th, 1876, for London, England, with a cargo of corn. Captain Cox had his wife and two children with him on the voyage. The mate was Frederick W. Blethen, son of a prominent Yarmouth resident, after whom the ship was named, and the second mate was James C. Doty, also of Yarmouth. Mr. Doty’s account of the disaster was as follows:—
“At 3 a.m. on July 31st, the wind having increased to a gale, watch called, clewed up and furled upper-topsail and mizzen lower-topsail, furled jib and foretopmast-staysail. At 5 a.m., wind still increasing, clewed foresail up and went aloft to furl it. After we got on the yard, a fearful squall struck the ship, throwing her on her beam ends and shifting the cargo. All hands were called down from aloft to wear ship; clewed main-topsail up and set foretopmast-staysail and jib. Hove the wheel up, ship payed off gradually; succeeded in getting her before the wind (she labouring heavily) but could not get at the port side to brace the yards around, decks being full of water—so we were compelled to let the ship come-to again. Clewed up lower foretopsail and set the weather clew of the foresail; then the wheel was hove up, when the ship began to pay off. Got her before the wind a second time and a heavy sea struck her on the port side, righting her a little. Then we succeeded in wearing ship and brought her to the wind on the port tack. We had just clewed the foresail up and hauled down jib and foretopmast-staysail, when a terrific squall struck the ship, blowing sails from the yards, shifting cargo again and heaving the ship down. The captain was standing on the weather quarter, his wife and children being in the cabin. Seeing the ship still going over, all hands sprang to the weather rigging. At the same time, the captain, slipping to leeward, caught the wheel, but not succeeding in holding on, went over the lee rail into the sea, calling to us, ‘Men, we are gone!’ At the same instant, a heavy sea breaking on the ship washed all hands overboard.
“After coming to the surface, I succeeded in getting hold of a plank. Seeing the ship’s boy and one man close to me, I called to the boy to come with me and we succeeded in getting another plank to support us. Looking around, I saw the ship bottom up and the men going down one after another, but could render them no assistance. After being on the planks for about three hours, I saw a man drifting towards me, apparently on a raft, which proved to be the top of the after-house. The boy and I succeeded in getting on this and with the spanker down-haul we lashed ourselves to this piece of wreckage.
“After drifting in this condition for 56 hours without food or water, a ship hove in sight and headed for us. She threw lines to us and hauled us on board. She proved to be the barque C. E. Jaynes, Captain Osborne, of New York, and she had on board one of our men whom she picked up a short time before.”
Out of 21 souls on board the Blethen, the second mate, the boy, and two seamen were saved, while the rest of the crew and the captain and his whole family were drowned.
A fine type of Nova Scotian ship-master, builder, and merchant was the late Captain Henry Lewis, of Yarmouth, who began building ships in 1874. When 15 years of age, he went to sea, and by the time he was 21 he was master of the Yarmouth brig Micmac. For some 20 years he sailed as master of Yarmouth ships, sailing to all parts of the world, and retired from seafaring in 1874 to form, with his brother, Nathan B. Lewis, the firm of N. B. Lewis and Co., at Salmon River, Digby County. They carried on a general merchandising business and an extensive ship-building yard at Salmon River until about 1881, when the firm moved to Yarmouth South and engaged as general dealers, handling dry fish and acting as West India commission merchants and operating schooners in the West Indian trade. Later, when this business declined, they became dealers in coal.
Captain Lewis died in December 1921, aged 92, an honoured citizen of his native town. In 1874, he built the ship Otago, 1095 tons, for his firm and others, and this was the first of a number of fine ships noted for their excellent construction and beautiful lines.
In 1874, the little town of Annapolis Royal, home of Canadian ship-building, where François Grave built his little vessels in 1605, built and added quite a number of fair-sized ships and barques to the local register. The largest of these were the ship Isabell Mott, 1153 tons, owned by Thomas S. Whitman; barque Granville Belle, 1130 tons, owned by Wm. McCormick, Granville, N.S., and barque Carrie Delap, 1116 tons, owned by Lawrence Delap, Annapolis. This barque was one of the first vessels to load Japanese teas for Canada and for transhipment east over the Canadian Pacific Railway. In August, 1886, she sailed from Hiogo and Yokohama for Vancouver, and her tea cargo was the first to be shipped over the newly-completed Canadian transcontinental railway.
In 1874, the ship Shelburne, 1164 tons, was built at Shelburne for L. M. Willett, and in the same year the ship Peter Young, 1035 tons, was built there for Yarmouth owners. In the following year, while the Peter Young was loading guano at the Chinchas, Captain John G. Perry, master of the ship, was murdered by the cook, who stabbed him after he had been taken to task by Capt. Perry for refusing duty. At Port Mouton, N.S., the ship J. C. Robertson, 1036 tons, was launched in 1874 for L. E. Baker, Yarmouth. This vessel was at the Chinchas in company with the Peter Young when the master was murdered, and the mate of the J. C. Robertson took the Peter Young home.
James Kitchin built the first ship of over 1000 tons at River John, N.S., in 1874. This was the Mary P. Kitchin, 1069 tons, and he was a large owner in her. In the same year, Kitchin built the barque Laura McLennan, 798 tons, for Chas. MacLennan, of Pictou. James W. Carmichael, in 1874, built the ship Hallgerda, 1087 tons, for himself at New Glasgow. Several barques of smaller tonnage were built during the year at Pictou, New Glasgow, and Tatamagouche.
Yarmouth added 26 vessels aggregating 18,216 tons to her local register in 1875, including 11 ships and 5 barques. The largest ship-owner at that time was Ryerson and Moses, and the largest ship added to the fleet was the St. Bernard’s, 1564 tons, built for W. D. Lovitt. Other large Yarmouth ships built that year were Walter D. Wallet, 1413 tons; Stamboul, 1248 tons; Kinburn, 1198 tons; Lizzie Burrill, 1185 tons; Annie M. Law, 1179 tons; John Bunyan, 1170 tons; Bonanza, 1078 tons.
The John Bunyan was a fine ship, and had a figurehead of John Bunyan with an open book in his hands. In 1880, while bound from New York to Shanghai with an oil cargo, the master committed suicide by leaping overboard while the ship was in the N.E. Trades. The mate and the steward navigated the ship to her destination. The John Bunyan was built at Meteghan, N.S., and owned by A. Goudey and others. She was ultimately sold to Spanish owners, and was afloat in 1905 as the Palamos. The Lizzie Burrill ended her days as a barge carrying plaster rock between Windsor, N.S., and New York; the Stamboul was sold to the Norwegians, and was afloat in 1905.
In 1895, the Walter D. Wallet arrived at Mobile from Belfast under the command of a coloured skipper and she was the first large ship to enter a Southern U.S. port thus commanded. The skipper’s name was Price. He was a native of Barbados, and had served in British vessels since he was 14 years old. The Wallet had a white crew, and it would be interesting to know what the Mobile people thought about it—the viewpoint of Southerners, in those days, hardly favouring anything which savoured of whites being under the authority of coloured persons. Captain Price, however, must have been an able man, not only to have gained command of a large ship, but to command respect and obedience from white crews. I do not think the ship was under Yarmouth ownership at that time.
In a letter to the Yarmouth Herald in 1919, Captain D. Lyons of Liverpool, England, recalled two races between the Yarmouth ships St. Bernard’s and Bonanza. Captain G. W. Churchill (formerly of the Research) commanded the St. Bernard’s and Captain Webster the Bonanza. Both ships loaded timber at Quebec together and sailed in company for Liverpool. All the way down the St. Lawrence River and Gulf the ships sailed side by side, but parted after passing St. Paul’s Islands. The wind was strong westerly, and on the St. Bernard’s they carried all sail the whole passage across save one night, when they made the three royals fast. When the latter ship arrived off Bardsey Island, the tug-boat told them that they were the first Quebec arrival of the season, which news put all hands in a good humour. When the pilot came aboard off Point Lynas, Captain Churchill greeted him and remarked that he understood the St. Bernard’s was the first Quebec vessel to arrive. “Well,” said the pilot, “you are not exactly the first, but you are a good second. A ship named the Bonanza went in last night.” Says the narrator: “The smile that had been on Capt. Churchill’s honest sunburnt face all day was gone in an instant. He had just filled his big meerschaum pipe, but he took out his pocket-knife, scraped the tobacco out, threw it overboard, and went below. He often did this when disappointed or when things went wrong, and must have wasted many pounds of tobacco unconsciously.”
The following winter, when homeward bound from Philadelphia to Liverpool with a general cargo, the St. Bernard’s fell in with the Bonanza off Cape Clear, she being from New Orleans, cotton laden, and also for Liverpool. The vessels were on opposite tacks, but Captain Webster put about and headed on the same tack as the St. Bernard’s, and a race began up Channel. The Bonanza had her three royal yards down on deck owing to her light cargo. When darkness came on the ships lost sight of each other. On the St. Bernard’s they carried all sail throughout a black, squally night, and were sure that daylight would reveal them well ahead, or to windward, of their rival. However, when dawn came, the Bonanza showed up on the St. Bernard’s weather bow with her three royals set, yard and sails having been crossed and bent during the night. She was careened over at a dangerous angle—a light ship and blowing stiff—and as the wind was increasing, Captain Churchill felt sure that the other would have to reduce sail, which would give him a chance to go ahead. But Captain Webster carried on until a tug showed up, which he took, and the St. Bernard’s did not get a chance. More tobacco from Capt. Churchill’s pipe went over the side. However, Captain Churchill, in the Everest, was destined to make a passage in 1881 which would be hard to beat.
The St. Bernard’s was lost near Flushing in 1879, and the Bonanza was abandoned in 1893 while on a voyage from Buenos Ayres with grain to Falmouth for orders.
The ship Hectanooga, 1043 tons, was built at Yarmouth in 1875 for Dennis and Doane. Commanded by Captain Byron Robbins of Yarmouth, she sailed from New York on April 29th, 1882, and arrived at Hiogo, Japan, on August 23rd, making the passage in 115 days. In 1883 she was a contestant in an ocean race with the American ship Southern Cross, Captain Bailey. Both ships left New York together bound for Anjer, and each passed the Little Gull on April 18th, 1883. On July 25th, the Hectanooga made her number at Anjer and received orders to proceed to Samarang, having made the run in 97 days. The Southern Cross, bound for Hong Kong, passed Anjer on July 26th, a day later. Though not clipper passages, the Hectanooga’s trips were very good, and testify to the skill of her master.
On her first voyage, in command of Captain Cereno Johnson, she left New York on the afternoon of September 18th, 1875, and arrived in Liverpool on October 8th, making the passage in 19 days. Returning in ballast to New York, she made the trip in 30 days.
At Princeport, N.S., J. Sanderson built the ship Colchester, 1342 tons, in 1874. At Newport, J. A. Harvie built the ship Ingomar, 1183 tons. She was afterwards owned by Andrew Gibson, Liverpool, who owned in many Canadian ships and acted as agent for several British North American firms. Later, she and the Colchester were bought by the Norwegians.
J. W. Carmichael built a fine ship of 1179 tons at New Glasgow, called the Steinvora. She was ultimately sold to the Italians, and was on the Register in 1916. James Kitchin, at River John, built the ship Aldborough, 1116 tons. A barque called the Memlo, 915 tons, was also built at River John this year. At Tatamagouche, D. and A. Campbell built the barque Edith Carmichael, 899 tons. In addition to these, several smaller craft were constructed in Pictou County during the year under review.
The brig Storm Bird, Captain Falkir, built at Spry Bay, Nova Scotia, in 1875, sailed from New York on November 23rd, 1876, and arrived at Hobart, Tasmania, on February 15th, 1877. She made the passage in 86 days, or 84 days land to land. The hourly average speed for the whole voyage was between six and seven knots, and her best speed was twelve knots.
In 1876, Thomas E. Ryer of Jordan River, N.S., built the ship Stewart Freeman, 1485 tons, for R. W. Freeman, L. E. Baker, and others, of Yarmouth. The Stewart Freeman, in command of Captain Raymond, of Yarmouth, made a good passage from the Chinchas with a cargo of guano in 1883. She arrived at Hull, England, on October 20th, 1883, after a run of 85 days from Huanillos, and averaging 145 miles per day throughout the passage. Another big Yarmouth ship built that year was the John Murphy, 1471 tons, owned by John and C. E. Murphy and others. She went ashore on Seal Island in 1883 while bound for St. John, N.B., in ballast. Other large ships built for Yarmouth owners in 1876 were: ship Vancouver, 1376 tons, for George H. Lovitt, abandoned in the North Atlantic, December 1892; ship J. S. Wright, 1274 tons, built at Tusket for Nathaniel Churchill, and a copper-fastened vessel classed A.1. for nine years in the Bureau Veritas; ship Marion, 1226 tons, built by R. M. Raymond and Sons, Digby, for A. C. Robbins—lost on Anticosti, May 1883; ship Bertie Biglow, 1142 tons, built by Jenkins, Yarmouth, for Dennis and Doane—wrecked near Biloxi, Miss., in 1891.
Captain Henry Lewis at Salmon River built the fine barque Hugh Cann, 1073 tons, for himself and his brother, Nathan B. Lewis. James Muir, at Shelburne, built the barque Reviewer, 991 tons, for J. Dennis, C. E. Horton, and others of Yarmouth. This vessel had a full poop, a bathroom, and a patent apparatus which supported the main weight of her rudder on a series of iron or steel balls let into the deck, and which, revolving as the rudder moved, greatly eased the motion. It will thus be evident that Nova Scotia ship-builders were quick to instal, and try out, any improvement in ship’s gear.
The barque Souvenir, 828 tons, was built for W. D. Lovitt, Yarmouth, in 1876. On March 17th, 1884, while bound from St. John to Liverpool with a cargo of deals, she was abandoned, dismasted, water-logged, and with decks broken up, in 39° 50′ N., 35° 28′ W. On June 1st, the wreck was picked up and towed into Flores, Azores Islands, and a large portion of her cargo was landed in good order and forwarded to Liverpool by steamer.
W. T. Kelley, at Shelburne, built the ship Crusader, 1124 tons, in 1876, for Yarmouth owners. She cost, fully rigged, $68,000. Another Yarmouth registered vessel built in Shelburne was the Romanoff, 1049 tons.
Jotham O’Brien, at Amherst, N.S., built the big ship Cumberland, 1575 tons, there in 1876. Her dimensions were 220 × 41·6 × 24 feet, and she was launched with all her spars and yards aloft and rigged on the stocks. At Maitland, Arch. McCollum built the ship Joseph, 1565 tons, for Jeremiah Northrup, Halifax, Capt. Fred Curry, and himself. Another Maitland ship of that year was the John Trapee, 1287 tons, built and owned by her namesake. Robert Lewis, at Economy, N.S., built the fine ship Cashier, 1409 tons, and it is assumed that when he launched her he hoped that she would justify her name. She was constructed mainly of spruce; keel, stem and stern-piece were of oak, and her bottom planking was of birch; iron-kneed, copper fastened up to 21½ feet and thoroughly salted. She had three decks with a flush spar deck and an open rail. Her masts were of pitch pine.
Amasa Loomer, at Spencer’s Island, built the barque Calcutta, 1282 tons, and Nicholas Mosher, at Newport, built the ship Warsaw, 1257 tons, for Captain Fred Curry and others. She was latterly sold to the Norwegians and renamed Drammen. At Walton, the ship D. H. Morris, 1195 tons, was built, and she too in later years went to the Norwegians. At Cornwallis, Peter R. Crichton built the barque Kingsport, 926 tons. As the Norwegian barque Ansgar, she was afloat in 1916. Shubael Dimock, at Windsor, built the barque Belvidere, 762 tons, and years afterwards she was afloat under the Brazilian flag. At Londonderry, McLennan built the barque Hermes, 863 tons. She ended her days under the Russian ensign. When freights became low and the competition of the steam tramp crowded wooden sailing ships off the main trade routes, Canadians gave up the operation of vessels of the larger class and sold them. The Norwegians afforded a ready market for Bluenose ships.
One vessel built in 1876 which did not pass out of the Canadian register until 1921 was the barque Ontario, 825 tons, built by Ezra Churchill and Sons, Hantsport, and owned by them. After a very successful career, she was sold in 1901 to the J. B. King Co., of New York, and, converted into a barge, she was used for freighting plaster rock from the Bay of Fundy to New York. In 1921, she was discarded and beached not far from where she was built after being 44 years afloat.
J. W. Carmichael, at New Glasgow, built the ship Thiorva, 1174 tons, for his own fleet. At the time of her launch she was rated as one of the finest vessels built in Nova Scotia. She was a two-deck ship, of mixed wood construction, copper-fastened, and well salted. Captain J. George Graham commanded her on her first voyage, and for several years after. In 1881, Captain Graham was haled up before the authorities at St. John, N.B., on the complaint of a seaman who said he had been abused. But as the Captain had been cut across the forehead by a knife in the hands of the complainant, it was probably the old story.
At Weymouth, N.S., the Hon. Colin Campbell built the barque Douglas Campbell, 845 tons, for himself. She was copper-fastened to the covering boards, and 1200 bushels of salt were used in salting her timbers.
At Annapolis, Lawrence Delap built the barque Drumadoon, 866 tons, for parties in Ardrossan, Scotland. She was classed A.1. for eight years in the Bureau Veritas, and rigged in St. John, N.B. The barque Hazelhurst, 822 tons, was also built in Annapolis this year.
Yarmouth ship-owners added but 10,287 tons to their fleet in 1877, the preliminary tremors of a decline already beginning to set in. They were building fewer ships, but those that were built were being increased in tonnage. The big ship of the year was the St. Cloud, 1528 tons, owned by W. D. Lovitt. Other Yarmouth ships built in 1877 were the Lennie Burrill, 1328 tons; Tsernogora, 1252 tons; barque Lizzie Perry, 1122 tons.
A ship called the Tollington, 1062 tons, built at Tusket for Dennis and Doane in 1876, was launched September 12th, 1877, rigged, sent to Philadelphia, where she discharged 600 tons of ballast and took aboard a cargo of 61,160 bushels of grain, and arrived in Hull, England, November 6th, all within the time of 54 days. Her passage from Philadelphia to Hull was made in 20 days, and constitutes a record in dispatch and sailing hard to beat for a ship of her class.
The Yarmouth barque Navarch, 994 tons, built in 1877, and owned by the Lovitts, left Baltimore one time on December 11th, 1880, and arrived at Dublin on January 4th 1881, making the passage in 23 days.
In 1877, Bennett Smith, of Windsor, built the ship Black Watch, 1319 tons, which was the last ship built by him. At Hantsport, J. B. North built the ship Forest King, 1554 tons, for himself and others. Woodsworth, of Kingsport, built the barque Belt, 1282 tons, for C. Rufus Burgess, Cornwallis. The Belt was a speedy vessel, and while commanded by Capt. Sid Munroe she discharged her pilot at the Isle of Wight one time while bound west to New York and passed Sandy Hook 15 days afterwards. A barque called the Nova Scotia, 1110 tons, was also built at Cornwallis in 1877. At Maitland, A. McDougall built the barque Norman, 833 tons; J. Davidson, Hantsport, built the barque Swansea, 746 tons, and G. Armstrong, the barque Sultana, 733 tons. Roy, at Maitland, built the ship Esther Roy, 1560 tons, for William Stairs and Morrow, Halifax.
The barque Flora, of Amherst, N.S., commanded by Captain Ellis, arrived at Queenstown from Halifax on July 23rd, 1877, with a cargo of deals, and made the passage in 13 days.
The Maitland barque Francis Herbert, Captain McKenzie, sailed from River John, N.S., on July 5th, 1877, with a cargo of deals, and arrived in Liverpool on July 23rd. Her passage was made in 17 days.
The Maitland barque Sultana, after being rigged and ballasted, sailed from Horton Bluffs, N.S., to New York, loaded a cargo there for Bristol, England, and arrived at the British port on October 27th, 1877, all within the period of 37 days after leaving the Bluffs. Her passage from New York to Bristol was made in the fine time of 16 days. Captain Mosher was in command of the Sultana.
The ship Beaconsfield, 1498 tons, was built in 1877 at Digby, N.S., for John Stewart of St. John, N.B. At Shelburne, N.S., the ship Commerce, 1298 tons, was built for L. M. Willett, Shelburne. While bound from Philadelphia to Antwerp with a cargo of 64,452 bushels of wheat, valued at $74,197, she was run into and sunk by the S.S. Empusa, in September 1878, and two of her crew were drowned. At Tatamagouche, D. and A. Campbell built the barque Minnie Carmichael, 900 tons, the last square-rigged vessel and one of the largest built at that place. Lawrence Delap, at Annapolis, built the ship Louisa Whitman, 1220 tons.
In 1878, the ship Everest, 1680 tons, was built by Urbain Belliveau for W. D. Lovitt, Yarmouth. At the time of her launch she was the second largest Nova Scotia ship and was regarded as a speedy vessel. Capt. D. Lyons, of Liverpool, who was in her with Capt. G. W. Churchill (formerly of the St. Bernard’s), says:
“I am of the opinion that when in the Everest with Capt. Churchill, we made the fastest westward passage across the Atlantic that has ever been made by a sailing ship. I cannot recollect exactly the time, but I believe that the pilot was on board and we were to the westward of Fire Island when nine days out from Canada Dock, Liverpool. The vessel was in ballast and almost new, and of course our running gear and sails were in good condition. We never shortened sail on the Banks, although it was very foggy and it was blowing a moderate easterly gale. Our speed by the old sand-glass log was 14 knots. But the record passage did not come off, as the wind shifted when we were on the last lap and blew up a gale from the N.W. and drove us out to sea again. Still we got to the anchorage at Delaware Breakwater in 14 days from Liverpool.”
I have been able to verify this exceedingly fast westward passage. The Everest sailed from Liverpool on January 5th, 1881, and arrived at Hampton Roads on January 21st. Captain Lyons speaks of her anchoring at the Delaware Breakwater. She possibly called there for orders and then sailed to Hampton Roads. Undoubtedly, this might well be recorded as the fastest westward passage between these points ever made by a sailing ship. The record passage to the eastward—usually the easier way, as the prevailing winds are westerly—was made in 1854 by the American clipper ship Red Jacket, which ran from Sandy Hook to the Rock Light, Mersey Entrance, in 13 days, 1 hour. This was done by a large clipper ship, built to sail; the passage of the Everest, a vessel of full model and no clipper, is all the more remarkable by contrast.
Of this passage, it is reported that Captain Churchill declared that he sailed in the New York mail-boat’s wake “and had my jib-boom over her taffrail the whole passage across the Atlantic.” The Everest was converted into a barge in 1897.
With regard to the sailing qualities of Bluenose ships, J. F. Keane, in one of his diaries, states: “These Nova Scotia ships go down about 10 feet in ballast trim and then they won’t displace another inch of water for a hundred tons of stuff in them. In ballast trim they sail like witches and would deceive the best man at the wheel, for they don’t take half a spoke, but when deep, they steer badly.”
The barque Fanny L. Cann, 790 tons, built in 1878 by Coffin at Clyde River, N.S., and owned in Yarmouth by Lyman Cann, had also a fair turn of speed for a cargo carrier, and on August 26th, 1891, arrived at Boston after a passage of 54 days from Buenos Ayres.
In 1878, Yarmouth added 19,417 tons of shipping to her local register. But it was the last kick, as it were, for the decline set in in 1879 and her shipping gradually dropped off. Among the large vessels built for Yarmouth owners this year were: ship Cyprus, 1392 tons; Vandieman, 1347 tons; Ruby, 1315 tons; Equator, 1273 tons; Ismir, 1259 tons; Morning Light, 1240 tons. This latter was a beautiful vessel built by Germain and Co., at Meteghen, N.S., for Aaron Goudey and others. The ship Republic, 843 tons, built by W. T. Kelley of Shelburne, for A. Rogers and others of Yarmouth, took 6666 barrels of oil from New York to Liverpool at the rate of 9s. per barrel—clearing $14,000 by the charter and picking up a return freight to New York sufficient to pay all operating expenses.
Churchill and Sons, Hantsport, built the barque Bristol, 1305 tons, for their own account in 1878. She sailed deep-water until about 1904, when she was converted into a barge and used to carry plaster rock between Windsor, N.S., and New York. On April 16th, 1921, she left Windsor with three other barges in tow of a tug and bound for New York. Off the Maine coast, it began to blow and a heavy sea made up. The Bristol was leaking a little but not enough to cause alarm. The tug was unable to make a harbour and had to tow the barges offshore. During the night, a big comber swept over the Bristol, breaking her stanchions and rails and loosening the chain-plates of the main-rigging. A second sea carried the mast away, and in falling it burst open her deck. Realising that the old hooker was not likely to live the night out, they cut adrift from the tow and the skipper and crew managed, with great difficulty, to launch the boat and get clear ten minutes before the Bristol went to the bottom. The crew rowed for seven hours without food or water and reached an uninhabited islet off the Maine coast. Next day they were rescued by a passing fisherman. Forty-three years of service afloat by a spruce-built, copper- and iron-fastened vessel speaks volumes for the wearing qualities of soft wood and the good workmanship of the builders.
At Avondale, J. A. Harvie built the ship Regent, 1260 tons, for N.S. owners. In the ’eighties she was owned by Andrew Gibson of Liverpool and later sold to the Norwegians. D. R. and C. F. Eaton built the ship Theodore H. Rand, 1193 tons, at Three Sisters, N.S. In 1905 she was under the Uruguayan flag as the Pepita.
Lawrence Delap, at Annapolis, N.S., built a large vessel for that place when he launched the ship Lawrence Delap, 1409 tons. This vessel was afloat in recent years as the barge Coal King of New York.
There were other perils to be encountered at sea besides that of fire and water, and the incident regarding the gassing of the master and a seaman on board the St. John barque Viking in 1878 is worth placing on record if only as a tribute to the courage of those who risked their lives, and in two cases lost them, through the curious mishap. The Viking, owned in Yarmouth, was commanded by Captain George Ryerson of Yarmouth, and his son, George T. Ryerson, was mate. The barque was bound from Philadelphia to Bayonne with a cargo of wheat, and met heavy weather, during which she sprang a leak. The pumps became choked with grain, and Captain Ryerson, instead of ordering one of the hands to do the job, took off the pump-well hatch and went down the well for the purpose of clearing the pumps. The gas given off by the sodden wheat was so powerful that Captain Ryerson was overcome and fell to the bottom of the well into four feet of water. A seaman, James Farmer, went to the captain’s assistance and also dropped to the bottom of the well, gassed. The second mate, who had been aloft, clambered down on deck, and without hesitation went after the others, and he, too, was overcome. The steward ran into the cabin and roused young Ryerson, who immediately took a rope and went down into the well. He saw the second mate lying on top of his father and Farmer and tried to make the rope fast to the officer’s body, but the fumes began to make him feel faint and he struggled to the deck again and fell down exhausted. Recovering in a few minutes, he made a rope fast around his body, took another in his hand, and went down again. This time he succeeded in tying the rope around the second mate and both were hauled up by the crew. He was too exhausted to go down again, and one of the crew managed to make the descent and bring up the body of Captain Ryerson. Farmer’s body could not be got out until after two hours’ pumping. Both the captain and the sailor were dead. The Viking had to be abandoned a few hours afterwards and the crew were taken aboard a Spanish brig.
The freight market was much disorganised in 1879 so far as sailing ships of wood construction were concerned. The economical steam tramp steamer was gradually ousting sail from the North Atlantic trade and driving the windjammer to distant seas and long voyages with low-class freights. In the recognised sailing-ship routes, the Canadian wooden craft had to buck against the great iron barques and ships of Great Britain in the charters for carrying perishable and easily damaged cargoes. Insurance rates on soft-wood ships were high, especially if they had outlived their term of classification, and to have a vessel reclassed and rated A.1. was often an expensive business and might require extensive repairs for the securing of freights which scarcely paid for the outlay. A good many ships were not overhauled when their classification period expired, and they drifted into carrying timber and deals, a cargo which would stand stowing in a leaky and strained ship.
The year 1879 was a disastrous one in the record of Yarmouth shipping, no fewer than 31 vessels being lost. It might be thought that the extraordinary losses were connived at by the owners owing to the depressed condition of shipping at the time, but the ships lost were among the best of the Yarmouth fleet, some carrying valuable cargoes, and with the ships went 106 persons. In Yarmouth County alone, the loss of life in her fleet left 26 widows and 99 children to mourn husbands and fathers. The ships and barques lost were as follows: Ship St. Bernard’s, 1564 tons, New York for Antwerp with wheat, ashore on Belgian coast, master, his son, second mate and three seamen drowned, as well as the English Channel pilot; ship Vandieman, 1347 tons, Liverpool for Sandy Hook in ballast, collided with an unknown barque off Cape Clear, second mate and 16 men drowned, also crew of other ship; ship Royal Charter, 1304 tons, Philadelphia for Antwerp with grain cargo, abandoned at sea, crew saved; ship Home, 1271 tons, Antwerp for New York in ballast, dismasted and abandoned at sea, crew saved; ship Dunsyre, 1083 tons, New York for Havre with valuable general cargo, hove-down by a sea which washed second mate and two seamen overboard and damaged ship so badly that she had to be abandoned, remainder of crew saved; ship Joseph Milbury, 1078 tons, Honfleur to Delaware Breakwater in ballast, ran ashore on Nova Scotia coast during a dense fog, crew saved; ship Andrew Lovitt, 836 tons, Baltimore for Rouen with wheat cargo, met heavy weather and badly damaged and dismasted, had to be abandoned, crew saved; ship Tyro, 795 tons, Philadelphia for Bremen with cargo of oil in barrels, hove-down and dismasted and had to be abandoned, crew saved; barque Oriental, 1056 tons, Philadelphia for Queenstown with grain, struck on S.E. Bar of Sable Island in dense fog, new ship, crew saved; barque Verity, 1022 tons, Waterford for Delaware Breakwater in ballast, encountered hurricane, hove-down and dismasted, killing two men and badly crippling others, abandoned; barque Francis Hilyard, 976 tons, Philadelphia for Antwerp with oil, put into Bermuda, loss of sails, leaky and otherwise damaged, condemned and sold; barque Hattie Goudey, 938 tons, Philadelphia for Rouen with grain, arrived safely at Havre and while towing up over the bar struck on a bank, capsized and filled, three of crew drowned; barque Dartmouth, 873 tons, Liverpool for Delaware Breakwater in ballast, not afterwards heard of, 18 persons drowned, including captain’s wife. The ship had been recoppered and reclassed prior to sailing. Barque Chili, 649 tons, Baltimore for Rochefort with grain, foundered in 48° West, crew saved; barque Luedna Durkee, 476 tons, New York for Bordeaux with grain, abandoned at sea, crew saved. The other craft lost were small vessels.
Only four ships and two barques were added to the Yarmouth fleet in 1879. The largest was the ship William Law, 1599 tons, built for Wm. Law and Co., and others. Under the command of Captain J. A. Tilley she left Norfolk, Va., with the largest cotton cargo ever taken from Norfolk up to that time—6723 bales weighing 3,120,101 lb.—and left Fortress Monroe on February 6th, 1883, for Liverpool, arriving there on February 26th, after a passage of 17 days. She left Liverpool on March 15th for Sandy Hook and arrived there on April 6th—21 days on the westward passage. The round voyage was made in 58 days. John Murphy, at Tusket, built the ship Charles, 1500 tons, for himself and C. W. Murphy and others of Yarmouth; Lovitt and Co., at Church Point, N.S., built the ship Narwhal, 1327 tons, for Lovitt and Co. and others. Other vessels were the ship Jessie Burrill, 1396 tons, and the barque Thomas Perry, 1192 tons, built by E. Raymond, Green Cove, N.S., for Wm. Law and others. In 1905, she was under the Russian flag.
Payzant and Bigelow, of Maitland, N.S., built the ship Servia, 1309 tons, in 1878, and she was making her first voyage in February 1879 when she left New York on the afternoon of the 4th, bound for London under Captain Spicer, of Spencer’s Island, N.S. A new ship of good model and a hard-driving Bluenose skipper, with winter winds on the North Atlantic, made for a good passage, and the Servia was in the Thames on February 21st, after a remarkably good run of 16 days from New York. On September 9th, 1879, she sailed from Simon’s Bay, South Africa, for Norfolk, Va., and arrived there on November 1st, after a passage of 51 days. The Servia was under the Norwegian flag in 1905.
J. Monteith, at Maitland, built the ship Gloaming, 1499 tons, in 1879. She was afloat in 1916 as the Italian barque Marne. Adam McDougall built the barque Sylvan, 1045 tons. She was wrecked near Yarmouth, N.S., in 1892, five of her crew being lost. A. Putnam built the barque Sherwood, 933 tons, also in 1879, and she was under the Norwegian flag in 1905.
Apparently there was a lull in the building of big vessels around Windsor and the Basin of Minas in 1879, the depressed freight rates, no doubt, deterring ship construction. John Davison, of Hantsport, built the barque Plymouth, 1312 tons, for Geo. W. and John W. Churchill of the same place, Captain Hiram Coalfleet, of Hantsport, commanded her for a number of years. She was made into a barge in 1907 and employed in carrying plaster rock from Windsor to New York.
J. A. Harvie, of Newport, built the barque Anglesea, 929 tons, in 1879, and Shubael Dimock, of Windsor, built the barque Fairmont, 1096 tons. Both were afloat in 1905 and under the Norwegian flag as the Lief and Undal. A big ship, the Sultan, 1323 tons, was built at Windsor in 1879 for Geo. Armstrong of that place.
Connell at Parrsboro’, in 1879, built the ship Athlon, 1371 tons, for D. M. Dickie and Son, Windsor. Under the command of Captain V. Dexter, the Athlon arrived at Callao, coal-laden from Cardiff, on January 7th, 1882, after a passage of 75 days. Leaving Callao on February 27th, she arrived at Victoria, B.C., on April 5th—a remarkably short passage of 37 days.
In 1879, J. Geddes, at Londonderry, N.S., built the ship Sovereign, 1193 tons, for Halifax owners. Under the command of Captain Putnam, she arrived at Liverpool from Portland, Me., on December 19th, 1879, after a passage of 18 days. The Sovereign was on her first voyage.
James Kitchin, at River John, N.S., built the barque Ameer, 770 tons, in 1879. Under the command of Captain Reynolds, and loaded with deals, she passed St. Paul’s Island in the Gulf of St. Lawrence on September 24th, 1879, and arrived in Carlingford Lough, east coast of Ireland, on the morning of October 5th, making the passage in the good time of 11 days.
During the period under review, ship-building flourished greatly in Nova Scotia. The owning and operating of ships by Nova Scotians brought fortunes to many and a large number of the citizens of the Province went to sea, gaining a name for themselves as splendid seamen, albeit stern disciplinarians, which did more to place their native country before the world than any other thing connected with it. The quality of Nova Scotia-built vessels improved with the years, until unexcelled by any of the builders in the sister provinces. But the decline was beginning to set in by the end of the ’seventies, and many of the owners got rid of their ships, mostly to the Norwegians. There were, however, a number of Nova Scotians who believed that wooden sailing ships of a superior class could still make money. With careful management they did, but fortunes were not to be made in the ’eighties, as in the earlier years. Iron and steel hulls and steam propulsion were driving an irresistible wedge into the wooden hulls and wind propulsion, and the losing game was being played by the latter.
There all day long you could hear the sound
Of the caulking iron, the ship’s bronze bell,
And the clank of the capstan going round
As the great tides rose and fell.
I can see them still, the sun on their gear,
The shining streak as the hulls careen,
And the flag at the peak unfurling, clear
As a picture on a screen.
The Ships of St. John by Bliss Carman.
During the ’seventies, New Brunswick had to step in the wake of Nova Scotia, the ship-building activities of the latter Province having taken a great spurt which put her in the leading position. The business of building ships for British owners, which gave a great impetus to building in New Brunswick in the ’fifties and ’sixties, had practically passed away, and the vessels constructed during the ’seventies and ’eighties in the Province were for native owners, and native masters and officers sailed them.
St. John was the leading ship-building port in New Brunswick, but during the year 1870 no great activity in ship construction can be recorded. The ship Charles Bal, 1432 tons, was the largest craft built during the year. James Nevins built her for himself and others. Other vessels were the ships Cleora, 1261 tons; Lizzie Fennell, 1015 tons, owned by Timothy McCarthy, St. John; City Camp, 990 tons, owned by Robt. Robinson, Canterbury, N.B.; barque Lebanon, 899 tons, owned by W. A. Robertson, St. John. John Fisher built the ship Eliza at St. John for his own account.
James H. Moran, at St. Martins, built the ship Prince Victor, 1221 tons, in 1870 for his own account. A few vessels, ships and barques of under 1000 tons were built at other New Brunswick points for local owners.
In building and operating vessels on their own account, New Brunswick shipping men, in the early ’seventies, preferred the smaller craft of between 500 and 1000 tons. Until the prospects looked enticing, they kept away from the big ships of the size New Brunswick shipwrights knew how to construct. In 1871, the firm of Troop and Son, St. John, had the ship Howard D. Troop, 1544 tons, built by John S. Parker of Tynemouth Creek, and she was the largest N.B. ship of the year. I have no record of smart passages made by this ship, but my father came from San Francisco to Falmouth in her during the late ’seventies with a grain cargo, and she took 6 months and 10 days to make the voyage. This, at least, might be reckoned as a record for slowness. Later, the Troops had a steel four-mast barque of the same name built in Great Britain.
Zebedee Ring, of St. John, had a ship called the Cosmopolis, 1259 tons, built in St. John for him in 1871. In 1878 while bound from Rio for Callao in ballast, she was wrecked on Staten Island, to the eastward of Cape Horn. Another of Ring’s vessels, the Markland, a barque of 920 tons, was built in 1871 at St. Martins. William Wright, of Liverpool, owned the barque Edward D. Jewett, 880 tons, built at Portland, St. John, that year, while James H. Moran at St. Martins added to his “royal” fleet the ship Crown Prince, 987 tons, and William Hickman, at Dorchester, built the barque Charlie Hickman, 904 tons, for himself. I have a record of some twelve barques between 500 and 900 tons built at various places in the Province during 1871 for local owners.
Like her sister Province of Nova Scotia, New Brunswick received an incentive to build ships through the generally good tone of the ocean freight market in 1872, and the yards were busy turning out ships for native owners. The largest ship of the year was the Lightning, 1637 tons, built by Thomas Hilyard, St. John. In 1886, she was under a foreign flag as the Theodor Ruger. Other large vessels built at St. John were: ship Z. Ring, 1371 tons, owned by her namesake; ship Richard Wright, 1353 tons, built and owned by James Nevins; ship Ellerslie, 1346 tons, also built by Nevins; ship Albula, 1315 tons, owned by David V. Roberts, St. John; ship Edith Troop, 1233 tons, owned by Troop and Son. The Z. Ring was under the Norwegian flag in 1905 as the Alaska, and the Ellerslie was owned by Andrew Gibson of Liverpool in 1887. Thomas Hilyard, this year, also built the ship Ahlunet.
The barque Privateer, 875 tons, built by John S. Parker at Tynemouth Creek for the Troops in 1872, was a smart sailer. In 1883, commanded by Captain O. P. Brown, she sailed from Charleston, S.C., on January 25th, and arrived in Liverpool on February 14th. Leaving Liverpool again on March 3rd, she arrived at Sandy Hook at 8 a.m., March 27th. The round voyage, including detentions in port, was made in 61 days. The Privateer was built of spruce, birch, and yellow pine, iron and copper-fastened, and was sold to the Norwegians in 1894. She was afloat in 1905.
The ship Gad’s Hill, 928 tons, built in 1872, left St. John one February with deals and made the passage from Cape Sable to Liverpool in 14 days. She was afterwards owned by George T. Soley, Liverpool.
The barque J. Walter Scammell, 939 tons, built at Portland, St. John, in 1872, on November 22nd, 1883, arrived at St. Loubes, France, from New York after a passage of 20 days. This vessel was named after a prominent St. John ship-owner who afterwards, in 1876, established a shipping business in New York. He died in 1897.
My records show that the ship George H. Oulton, 1172 tons, was built at Sackville for A. L. Palmer and others, St. John. At Moss Glen, Wetmore, Titus and Merritt built the ship Peacemaker, 1064 tons, for W. W. Turnbull, St. John. The ship Prince Arthur, 991 tons, was built at St. Martins, and Wm. Hickman, at Dorchester, built the ship John Rutherford, 984 tons. The records show that 50,000 tons of shipping were built in New Brunswick during 1872.
In 1872, the St. John barque James W. Elwell caught fire to the westward of Cape Horn, and the subsequent experiences of her crew from the time they left the barque until the survivors were rescued seventy-two days afterwards is one of the most inspiring, though terrible, incidents in the history of British North American shipping. The Elwell was a small vessel owned by Troop and Son, St. John, and was commanded by Captain John Wren of St. Andrews, N.B. I can do no better than give the account in the words of this hardy and indomitable New Brunswick ship-master—now gone to his last port:—
“We left Cardiff for Valparaiso with coal in September, 1872. We had a crew of 15 all told, including a woman stewardess—the cook’s wife. Made a good run to the River Plate, where we met a heavy gale, during which the mate had his foot crushed by a spar on deck. Erysipelas set in six days afterwards and he died. Sighted Staten Island, rounded the Horn and sighted Diego Ramirez without incident. Ten days after rounding the Horn, the cook met with an accident which, after three or four days, resulted in inflammation and death.
“The day before the cook died, I was leaning over the companionway—the ship under easy sail in a brisk breeze, when a Cape pigeon flew on board and alighted close beside me. I stroked it down the back with my hand, and it never attempted to fly away. I went to the cabin and got some bread and pork, which it ate from my hand. It hopped about for a while and then flew away.
“While burying the cook, I had occasion to wear ship, and when brought before the wind, I noticed, to my surprise, that smoke was issuing from the after ventilators. Examination revealed the coal cargo to be on fire, and I decided, after consultation with the crew, to run for the Straits of Magellan, where was located the nearest port and the likeliest place to meet passing vessels. The wind was adverse for three or four days, then a heavy westerly gale set in, and we had to heave-to under lower topsails at midnight. The cargo, by this time, appeared to be all on fire. Smoke was issuing through every opening, and the water from the pumps was hot.
“About noon next day the gale moderated, and as our situation was hourly becoming more precarious, I decided to prepare to abandon ship. The largest boat was selected, but in hoisting her out we damaged her stern in the heavy sea running alongside, and we had to bring her aboard again for repairs. After a time, we got her into the water but found she leaked some. The boat was well stocked with provisions, water, compass, sail, etc. But finding the fire apparently making no headway, I decided to make the coast, 160 miles off, in the barque. It was six days since the discovery of the fire, and we were running considerable risk of the ship bursting into flames, or blowing up, at any moment, but I trusted it would smoulder for a day or so longer.
“Before dark that evening, we sighted a ship in the distance, apparently heading for us, and we thought she had seen our signal of distress. After dark we showed lights to attract her. After midnight, while on deck, I heard a rushing sound like a chimney on fire, also a dull report. The hatches were blown off, and smoke poured out of the holds. I could see that there was no longer any hope for the ship. The cabin was so hot that no one could remain in it. I ordered all hands to the boats—the large one and a smaller one.
“A heavy sea was running, and added to the darkness of the night was the smoke which enveloped the ship. We dropped into the boats from the barque’s stern, watching our chance to jump as they rose on the waves. The cook’s wife, while standing on the taffrail waiting her chance to jump, did not leap when ordered to, but jumped as the boat was receding. She fell twelve feet, spraining one of her ankles and otherwise injuring herself, she being rather a heavy woman.
“After we were all in the boats we held on to the stern of the barque to await daylight, also in the hope that we would be rescued by the vessel previously sighted and which, we felt sure, would be attracted by a burning vessel. All of a sudden she crossed our bows. We cut our painters and rowed for her, loudly hurrah-ing all the time, as much for joy as to attract attention, never doubting but what they had come to our rescue. But to our horror and dismay, she kept right on her course, her receding form in the gloom adding intensely to our sense of despair and loneliness. With heavy hearts we rowed back to the burning ship to await the dawn, still hoping that the strange vessel would return for us.
“In the early morning there was a loud explosion aboard the barque and her decks burst open. Lumps of coal were hurled twenty feet in the air, accompanied by volumes of pent-up smoke, instantly followed by bursts of flame which ran up the masts, consuming everything that would burn. The lanyards of the rigging were soon burnt away, the masts swayed to and fro for a few seconds, and then went over the side. We lay by in the boats watching the ship being consumed, until at daylight she burned to the water’s edge and sank—leaving us alone in the boats 160 miles off the Patagonian coast of Chile.
“We decided to all get aboard the large boat. Strict rules were established as to the distribution of provisions and water, all being placed upon allowances at the start. This I gave in charge of the second mate, who was to serve each alike. I did this so that the crew could not say that I had a chance of getting more than the others.
“After a fine run of four days under sail, we made a harbour on the north coast of the Straits of Magellan. It presented an inhospitable appearance; high, rugged mountains, their tops covered with snow and their slopes with ice. The weather was tempestuous and wretched, and in our first harbour we were detained two weeks by a continuous storm of rain, hail and sleet, all of us suffering very much from the constant exposure. When the weather moderated, we started along the coast northward, but in a day or two we had to make harbour again in another bleak defile. Here two young seamen died from exhaustion, and we buried them on shore under brush and stones. All of us were now suffering very much from want of food. The provisions were running short and the allowance had to be lessened daily.
“We remained in this place for a few days until the weather moderated, and then set sail again. We made considerable progress northward until we were caught in a gale, which forced us to run the boat before the wind all night, expecting every minute to founder. The sea, at times, would break over the stern and strike me with such force as to hurl me over the after thwart, and it was very hard to keep the boat free of water. Two men died that night, and the others gave up, so that my only help was the woman. She bailed, while I steered with an oar—the rudder being disabled.
“Most of the men went crazy at last. Some I had to lash to the thwarts to keep them from jumping overboard, and their groans and shrieks in the darkness were fearful. The sail could not be hoisted, so that the boat was allowed to run before the wind. Daylight revealed the same sterile coast, two dead men in the boat, some crazy and lashed to the thwarts, others helpless and apathetic. Our provisions were almost exhausted, and we were slowly starving to death. The only one of the crew I could depend upon for assistance was the stewardess, the cook’s wife. Her name I have forgotten, but her powers of endurance and pluck were the admiration of all, particularly myself, as I had to look to her as my chief assistant. She had no favours shown her in the distribution of food—we all shared alike—moreover, she was still suffering from the injuries she received when jumping from the ship, yet she never murmured, but, on the contrary, worked, cheered and encouraged the others.
“We ran all that day, and towards evening made a harbour under the lee of an island. The name I did not know, not having a chart. We got the two bodies out of the boat, and buried them on shore under stones and brush. We remained here about a fortnight. Our principal food was mussels and limpets, and a plant we named wild celery. One day, as the sun shone, I succeeded in lighting a fire by concentrating the rays of the sun through a marine glass on to some cotton wool from the lining of a vest and some resinous fibre from a tree. This was the first and only fire we had at any time. We feared to attract the attention of the natives, whom we knew to be a dangerous and savage race. Once we saw smoke in the distance, but never a human being, though we observed traces of them, and evidently of white people also, as where timber had been cut and sawed and skids laid to get it to the water, possibly by whaling vessels, and considerable wreckage was seen on the coast at times. With this fire we made some mussel soup—the first hot food we had tasted since leaving the ship. But we found it did not agree with us, though, strange to say, the raw mussels did. The only food now remaining of the ship’s stores was a little wet biscuit, part of a bag that had been damaged by water soon after leaving the ship, and had been trampled under foot for weeks. It was fished up from the bottom of the boat, and a spoonful, in the shape of soft paste, passed around to each one at a time.
“It was plainly to be seen that the terrible effects of starvation were daily becoming more visible in the appearance of all, but with some more than others; and, still worse, I realised the horrible fact that they were looking with longing desires to the dead bodies of their comrades to appease their terrible hunger. Fearing that such would be the case before long, I determined to make a move whenever the weather would permit. It was either blowing very strong or else dead calm.
“We set out again at last, continuing down the Strait in the hope of falling in with a steamer or other vessel. On the evening of this day, another of our crew, a tall, powerful young fellow, died. His sufferings were awful. The flesh on his legs mortified and dropped off. When removing the bandages to wash him with fresh water, pieces of flesh would follow.
“We continued our course among islands, making harbours and being detained in some for days, and the men dying off at different places. At last we reached an island forming the north side of the Strait, where we remained about four weeks. Our number was now reduced to myself, the carpenter, a seaman, and the stewardess. Our only food was mussels gathered from the rocks. Each one had to collect through the day what they required, which was trying work in our exhausted condition, as the mussels had to be scraped from the rocks with a knife. We lived on shore during the day, but slept in the boat at night.
“The carpenter, at last, became too weak to collect his food, so we collected it for him, though not for long. The flesh on his legs and feet turned black and shortly afterwards he died. I now became despondent myself. It was now ten weeks since leaving the ship. We were in an uninhabited country, always exposed to the weather, with no warming fire, and nothing to eat now but shellfish. Could Nature endure much longer? Though blessed with a tolerably good constitution, I had witnessed stronger men yield. Possibly, the responsibility of my position somewhat stimulated me. But the cook’s wife was a puzzle. She, a woman, and therefore not expected to have the endurance of hardy seafaring men, had worked, shared the same fare and was exposed to the same hardships as all of us, yet she was physically stronger than any. Really, she was becoming a heroine in my estimation. Moreover, she was always ready with a word of cheer and, with the object of keeping up our spirits, though in a most tantalising way, would enumerate the many good things in store for us when picked up. She would often describe a dish that a certain American captain was very fond of, and one that I was very partial to, and I had to beg her to stop to spare my feelings.
“Finding that mussels were becoming scarce in our present location, I determined to make another move further down the Strait in the hope of finding better feeding grounds. In looking across a large bay, I noticed a bold headland about eight miles off and beyond it still another. I therefore concluded that a bay or channel would be found between them. It was foggy at the time, and I set a course so as not to miss and strike the rocks, as I knew we were too weak to get the boat off should we do so. When all was ready for a start, I offered up a hearty prayer and set sail, having a presentiment that a change was about to take place—either rescue or death. I tended the sail and steered, the woman bailed, and the sailor was asleep in the bottom of the boat. When about half-way over, an extra swell of the sea tumbled me over into the bottom of the boat through sheer weakness. In getting up, I happened to look round in the direction from whence we had come. Though dazed and bewildered, I thought I saw smoke. Yes, it was a steamer!
“I broke the joyful news by singing out, ‘Ship in sight!’ The prostrate sailor, whom we thought was taking his last sleep, raised his head and cheered feebly. The woman clapped her hands for joy with the characteristic exclamation, ‘I told you so! I told you not to despair!’
“Soon the steamer was in full sight with her flags flying. I brought the boat to the wind, and in a few minutes we were within hailing distance. We hailed and asked to be taken aboard. We were not able to go alongside, so a boat was manned, and I never saw a boat drop so quickly from a steamer’s davits. They took us in tow, and in a short time we were all aboard and kindly cared for. The rescuer proved to be the White Star Liner Tropic, Captain Parsells, bound from the Pacific Coast to Liverpool. It so happened that the ship took a certain course through the channels that the master had never taken before, nor was it customary for vessels to do so. Had it not been thus, we surely would have perished.
“Under the care of the ship’s surgeon we came round all right, after seventy-two days of hardship, peril and near-starvation in a climate similar to New Brunswick in October, with frosty nights, and living on mussels and shellfish. Strange to say, the woman stood it better than any. She would have been the last to succumb. She was an Englishwoman, strong, robust, good-sized, and about 36 years of age. Notwithstanding this terrible experience, she went to sea again, shipping as stewardess on a voyage around Cape Horn. She married the carpenter of the ship and finally settled in Digby, Nova Scotia. We were landed in Liverpool, fully recovered, and sent home.”
In 1873, New Brunswick shipyards turned out something like 75,000 tons of shipping. In this year—to give an idea of the tremendous activity in ship construction around the Bay of Fundy at that period—no less than 120,000 tons of shipping was built on the Bay shores from Yarmouth, N.S., up around the head of the Bay and down to, and including St. John. And practically the whole of this tonnage was for New Brunswick and Nova Scotia ownership. Shares in some of the ships were held by British and American investors, but the ships were registered in Canada and commanded by Canadian masters.
At the Courtenay Bay yards in St. John, one could see seven large ships on the stocks at one time, in addition to the many vessels being constructed on the western shores of the harbour. It was a great time for sail-makers, block-makers and riggers, for in addition to the fitting out of St. John-built ships, they had the work of rigging and equipping ships built in Yarmouth, Digby, Annapolis, Windsor, and other Nova Scotian and New Brunswick ports.
In 1873, St. John builders constructed some splendid ships of large tonnage for Provincial owners. According to my records, the ship Governor Wilmot, 1611 tons, was the largest. She was built at St. John for Zebedee Ring and crossed three skysail-yards. James Nevins built the ships Marathon, 1471 tons, and St. Elmo, 1429 tons, for his own fleet. Other large St. John-built ships were the Norseman, 1449 tons; Lizzie C. Troop, 1391 tons; Parkfield, 1389 tons; Albania, 1365 tons, and Lilian, 1126 tons—all of which were owned in St. John.
The Lizzie C. Troop was one of the well-known Troop fleet built by Parker. In 1884, commanded by Captain Curry, she arrived at Valparaiso on July 11th, coming around the Horn in mid-winter from Rio, and making the passage in 44 days.
At St. Martins, James H. Moran built two more Princes—the ships Prince Umberto, 1400 tons, and Prince Louis, 1329 tons. At the same place, the ship Stowell Brown, 1370 tons, was built for Lebaron Vaughan, St. John. At Clifton, N.B., the ship Percy Thomson, 1288 tons, was built for Robert Thomson, St. John.
Many vessels, mostly barques of 600 to 900 tons, were built during the year at various places in the Province.
In 1874, I find that there were 79 ships of over 1000 tons on the St. John Shipping Register and 178 ships and barques of over 500 tons, including the 79 of large tonnage. St. Andrews, N.B., had nine vessels of over 500 tons, including one 1200-ton ship. Chatham registered eight craft of over 500 tons. The principal ship-owners were Troop and Son, Zebedee Ring, David V. Roberts, James Nevins, J. and R. Reed—all of St. John. James H. Moran, St. Martins, in 1874, is listed as the owner of 16 ships and barques, most of them of large tonnage and built at St. Martins. Practically all of Moran’s ships had the prefix “Prince” in their names. Gideon Palmer and William Hickman, both of Dorchester, N.B., owned many vessels, as also did Robert A. Chapman of Rockland. The Chatham vessels were principally owned by J. and T. Jardine, Richibucto, and William Muirhead, Chatham.
John S. Parker, at Tynemouth Creek, St. John, built the big ship Minister of Marine—a three skysail-yarder of 1682 tons—for Troop and Son. Later, they took the skysails off this ship. At Gardner’s Creek, St. John, the ship Hospodar, 1550 tons, was built for Geo. T. Soley, Liverpool. James Nevins, St. John, built the ship Hindostan, 1547 tons, for his own account. An addition to Zebedee Ring’s fleet was the ship Parthia, 1528 tons. Hilyard Bros., St. John, built the ships Thos. Hilyard, 1500 tons, and the Abana, 1288 tons, for David V. Roberts. The latter ship was ultimately sold to the Norwegians at Hamburg in 1894. Another big St. John ship was the King Cenric, 1491 tons, built for David M. Vaughan, Liverpool. Bennett Smith, of St. John and Windsor, built and owned the ship Dunrobin, 1375 tons. At St. Martins, James Moran built the ships Prince Frederick, 1490 tons, and the Prince Rudolph, 1372 tons, for his own account. At Moncton, the Minnie H. Gerow, 1304 tons—a big vessel for that place—was built for George H. Gerow, St. John. Hopewell, N.B., saw the ship King Cerdic, 1297 tons, built for David Vaughan, Liverpool. David Lynch, at his Portland shipyard, St. John, built the ship Glad Tidings, 1292 tons, for Robert Thomson, St. John. At Rothesay, N.B., the ship Alexandrovna, 1274 tons, was built for Gilbert M. Steeves, St. John. Other sizable vessels of the year were the barques Homewood, 1125 tons, built at St. John for Jas. F. Cruickshanks; Ulster, 1058 tons, built at St. Martins for Wm. A. Robertson, St. John; Sarah Chambers, 1000 tons, built at Dorchester for Wm. Hickman of that place.
The foregoing list will give an idea of the magnitude of ship-building operations around New Brunswick in this year. In addition to the large vessels, there were a host of small barques, brigs, brigantines, and schooners. The ships constructed were fine craft, built of spruce and hard wood, copper-fastened up to load water-line, and well equipped with good gear and apparatus. Many had three skysails and carried studdingsails.
During 1875, 62 vessels aggregating 33,219 tons were registered in New Brunswick. This was a falling off from the years previous, and shows that investors in wooden sailing ships were beginning to see that the good times were drawing to an end. The big concerns, well versed in the management of ships, and having good connections abroad, were able to find work for wooden ships at a fair profit, but the small investors were not gaining the dividends of former days, and they refrained from putting their money into ships. The fleets already built and operating were sufficient, in the opinion of most, to take care of the business offering. In 1875, New Brunswick owned something like 804 vessels, aggregating 272,054 tons, and valued at $7,000,000. To add more vessels to this already large flotilla, in view of the competition of Great Britain and her iron steam tramps, was not regarded as being a wise thing to do, and New Brunswickers, like the Nova Scotians and others in Canada, preferred to rest on their oars and watch things for a while.
In 1875, David Lynch, of St. John, built the big ship Rock Terrace, 1769 tons, for Troop and Son. She was the biggest ship built in St. John since the Australian demand. Lynch was one of the most noted of all the latter-day St. John ship-builders and a man of unusual skill. He was born in Ireland, and came from Londonderry to St. John with his parents when nine years of age. At fourteen, he was a tool-carrier in a Strait Shore shipyard, and was later apprenticed to Storm and King to learn the business of constructing ships. This was in the early ’fifties, when the big Australian packets were being built in St. John. He showed a remarkable aptitude for the work, not only as a practical man with tools, but also as a designer. While still a young man, he set up in business for himself, and in 1861 he built a little schooner of 45 tons called the Richard Simonds. From schooners, he contracted to build barques and ships of sizable tonnage at a yard on the Strait Shore. His first big vessel was the ship Bessie Hathaway, built for Fred. Hathaway, St. John. This was followed by a barque for George K. McLeod. In 1874, he took a yard at the head of Long Wharf, St. John, and built the ship Glad Tidings, 1292 tons, for Thomson’s fleet. Then followed the large ship Rock Terrace already mentioned.
It was said of Lynch that he could take a piece of chalk and make a scroll design for a ship’s figurehead or stern quarters on the wall of a shed and then call his carvers and have the scroll made. He was a hustler, and had the knack of always keeping his men supplied with material and of building a ship rapidly and without delays. As a designer his vessels stand as monuments to his skill, while his workmanship was unexcelled. He embodied what is known as the “hollow midship section” in a pilot boat called the Lightning built by him in 1862, and in 1887 this feature of vessel design was the subject of a controversy between St. John shipping men and American yachting enthusiasts, the former claiming that Lynch’s idea was used in the design of America’s Cup defender the Thistle. The pilots of the Lightning were convinced that the Thistle’s plans were made up from a model of the Lightning which was loaned to Boston or Chelsea parties. Mr. Troop, of St. John, claimed that the two boats’ lines were as nearly identical as they could possibly be, and also that the advantages of the hollow bottom were exemplified in the Lightning over 20 years before it was adopted for the yachts Mayflower, Puritan, and Volunteer, and for Boston to claim the honour of originating the idea was a piece of presumption.
The writer is not in a position to decide the question one way or the other, but merely quotes the incident to show that David Lynch was a builder of more than ordinary skill and blessed with originality. Personally, he was a very quiet man and fond of his home, a great reader and not active in public or fraternal affairs. He built ships for 40 years, constructing over 70 vessels, and his last work was the steamer Senlac, built in 1903 for Wm. Thomson and Sons, St. John. Others of his vessels will be mentioned in this history. He died in St. John, in September, 1904, aged 69 years.
In addition to the Rock Terrace, the ship Frank Carvill, 1489 tons, was built at St. John in 1875. In 1905, she was afloat under the Brazilian flag as the Franzoni. At St. Martins, N.B., the ship Agnes Sutherland, 1134 tons, was built. My father served as mate of this ship on a voyage from Cardiff to Rio with coal, and from Rio to San Francisco in ballast, sailing through the Straits of Le Maire. The old photograph reproduced in this volume was taken on board the Agnes Sutherland while bending sail in San Francisco Bay in the late ’seventies. This ship went to the Norwegians and in 1905 was afloat as the Prince Victor, barque.
A barque called the Thomas Keillor, 1020 tons, was built at Dorchester, N.B., in 1875. In 1883, while bound from New York to Havre, the upper part of her rudder was carried away when six days out. Like the incident of the Yarmouth ship Research, Captain J. B. Tingley of the Keillor went to work and fashioned a new rudder and brought the barque safely to her destination. For this, he received a gold chronometer watch from the Paris underwriters, and the mate, Charles Scott, of Maitland, N.S., was presented with a sextant.
In 1876, David Lynch launched the ship Alexander Yeats, 1589 tons, for Alex. Yeats, St. John. This ship was pronounced at the time to be the finest ship ever turned out of St. John yards. Her frame was of hackmatack, pitch pine, and spruce; keel, stem, and stern-post of American white oak. Her keelson was of four tiers, the upper ones being of white oak with greenheart mast-steps. The ceiling and outside planking were wholly of pitch pine. She was copper-fastened to the covering boards and classed A.1. 10 years in the Bureau Veritas. The Alexander Yeats ended her days by driving ashore on the Cornish coast in thick weather. Her photograph, taken from the cliffs near Penzance, will be found as the frontispiece to this volume.
Another fine ship built at Tynemouth Creek in 1876 was the Empress of India, 1700 tons. She was 216 feet keel, 42 feet beam, and 25 feet depth of hold, copper- and galvanised iron-fastened, and classed A.1. 10 years in the Bureau Veritas. She was equipped with a patent windlass, which with pumps, etc., was worked by a steam donkey engine of 9 h.p. Hilyard Bros., St. John, built the ship Anglo America, 1533 tons, for David V. Roberts, St. John, and others. She was thus named as her ownership was partly British and partly American. The Anglo America was also classed 10 years’ A.1. Other big ships of 1876 were: ship Maritime Union, 1500 tons, built by James Nevins for his own account; ship General Domville, 1613 tons, built at Courtenay Bay; ship Muskota, 1400 tons, built by Gabriel Merritt at Moss Glen for himself and others; ship Tobique, 1284 tons, built by J. Stewart, St. John; ship Birnam Wood, 1263 tons, built by John Mahoney, Courtenay Bay; ship Lord Lytton, 1264 tons, built by A. Parks and Sons, St. Martins. In 1893 this ship vanished while on a voyage from Penarth to Santos with coal. The ship Canon Harrison, 1200 tons, was built at Oromocto, N.B., for Richard C. Haws, Liverpool, and his son, Captain John B. Haws, took command of her.
A big ship was the Erin’s Isle, of 1646 tons, built in 1877 by J. McFee at Courtenay Bay for C. E. De Wolf and Co., Liverpool. Hilyard Bros. built the ship Anglo India, 1549 tons, for David V. Roberts. Fraser, of St. John, built the ship Struan, 1473 tons. She was afterwards owned by Andrew Gibson, Liverpool.
In 1877, David Lynch built the fine barque Cedar Croft, 1099 tons, for Troop and Son. She was a spruce and yellow pine vessel, iron- and copper-fastened, and a picture of her is shown in this volume.
In 1879, the Cedar Croft had a race across the Atlantic with the Nova Scotian barque Kingsport. Both vessels loaded grain in Portland, Me., for Antwerp. The Cedar Croft left Portland at 10.30 a.m. on December 23rd, followed by the Kingsport at 1 p.m. A great deal of interest was taken in the contest by local shipping men, as both vessels were smart sailers. A speedy passage was not made, however, but the Cedar Croft arrived off Deal on January 22nd, 1880, and arrived in Antwerp on January 24th. The Kingsport did not reach Antwerp until January 29th, so the honours lay with the New Brunswicker.
David Lynch built another barque in 1877 called the Stormy Petrel, 748 tons, for Wm. Thomson and Co., St. John. She has been described as “a clipper barque,” and one writer said she was one of the fastest vessels sailing out of St. John. I looked up her passages for her first two years afloat, when she was commanded by Captain Dwyer and engaged mainly in freighting deals across to Ireland from St. John, and I could find nothing “clipper” about them—in fact, they were very ordinary. It is possible that she may have done better in later years.
James Nevins built two large ships this year—the Macedon, 1486 tons, and the Monrovia, 1449 tons. At St. Stephens, N.B., was built the ship Rocklands, 1465 tons, for Z. Ring of St. John. Captain John McLeod built the ship New City, 1442 tons, at Black River, N.B. McLeod was born in Greenock, Scotland, in 1825, and went to sea. Five years of his younger life were spent at the Australian gold-fields. He ultimately came to New Brunswick and settled at Black River. Here he built a ship called the Brilliant and sailed her himself in the West Indian and European trades. Later on, he became a ship-builder at Black River and owned in the vessels he built. He was returned as a Member of the Provincial Parliament for a period. McLeod also built the barque Jennie Parker, 998 tons, in 1878.
Robert Chapman, at Rockland, built the ship S. B. Weldon, 1434 tons, for Lewis Smith of Coverdale, N.B. In 1905, she was afloat under the Uruguayan flag as the Maria Blanquer. Wm. Hickman, at Dorchester, built the ship Wm. K. Chapman, 1077 tons. Lynch, at Portland, St. John, built the barque Low Wood, 1091 tons, for Troop and Son, and Stewart and Ritchie, St. John, built the barque Nicosia, 1047 tons, for Wm. Thomson and Co. This vessel was wrecked on Sable Island in July, 1894, while bound in ballast from Dublin to St. John. Elsewhere in the Province a number of barques of between 500 and 1000 tons were built during the year. I have recorded a dozen such craft.
Many notable vessels have hailed from St. John in the old days, but the most celebrated of later days was the barque Cyprus, which flew the house-flag of Troop and Son. Though owned and registered in St. John, the Cyprus was built in 1878 by Abram Young at Bridgetown, Nova Scotia—a few miles above Annapolis. She was probably towed to St. John to be sparred and rigged. The Cyprus was a spruce and yellow pine vessel, iron- and copper-fastened, and registered 1091 tons. Captain Raymond Parker, son of Captain John S. Parker, the Tynemouth Creek ship-builder, took command of her, and he was one of those capable master mariners who could drive a ship half-under without losing a rope-yarn. Under him, the Cyprus made a series of Western Ocean voyages which stand to-day as a record for a vessel of her class. Beginning with her maiden voyage, I have tabulated her passages from September 23rd, 1878, to October 2nd, 1879—a trifle over twelve months.
Sailed. | From. | To. | Cargo. | Arrived. | Days. |
1878 | |||||
Sept. 23 | St. John | Liverpool | Deals | Oct. 10 | 17 |
Oct. 27 | Liverpool | New York | Ballast | Nov. 19 | 23 |
Dec. 8 | New York | Glasgow | Grain | ||
1879 | |||||
Jan. 23, | Glasgow | Baltimore | Ballast | Feb. 23 | 31‡ |
March 1 | Baltimore | Londonderry | Grain | March 31 | 31 |
April 28 | Londonderry | New York | Ballast | May 24 | 26 |
June 2 | New York | London | Grain | June 22 | 20 |
July 13† | London | Baltimore | Ballast | Aug. 29 | 47‡ |
Sept. 8 | Baltimore | Dublin | Grain | Oct. 2 | 24 |
† Left Deal on July 15th. | |||||
‡ Via Sandy Hook for orders. |
It will thus be seen that the Cyprus landed five cargoes in the United Kingdom within the period of but nine days over the 12 months, and made nine transatlantic voyages in that time. Her maiden voyage of 17 days from St. John to Liverpool was a smart passage for a ship that was not of clipper model, while her westward trip of 23 days from Liverpool to New York was also good. So delighted were the Troops with Captain Parker’s performance, that they presented him with a gold watch and chain suitably inscribed and testifying to his accomplishment of the “unparalleled feat of landing from his ship in Europe five cargoes within practically twelve months.” On her winter passage to the westward it was said that her lee side was not visible the whole voyage and the water was half-way up to her hatches, fore and aft, from the time she left the British side until she made the American coast.
On December 15th, 1879, the Cyprus left New York, and arrived in London on January 2nd, 1880, making the passage in 18 days. On May 11th, 1880, she left New York for Reval, Russia, and arrived there on June 11th, after a passage of 30 days. It is said that, on either this passage or another one, she passed the Naze of Norway when 14 days out from New York. I have not been able to verify this.
The Cyprus eventually passed out from the transatlantic trade and went on the long deep-water voyages. In 1893, I find that she was condemned and sold down in Monte Video. Captain Raymond Parker, during the time he was in the Cyprus, never lost a sail, though on two occasions she carried away a topgallant-mast, and another time her jib-boom of fourteen-inch pitch-pine broke off at the cap and came in on the forecastle-head. Captain Parker became commodore of the Troop fleet, and later went into steam, residing in Liverpool and at one time commanding the Standard Oil Company’s tank steamers.
The depression which set in during 1879 struck New Brunswick shipping men just as it did builders and owners elsewhere. In April 1879, the barque Beau Monde, 1047 tons, and built at St. Martins, N.B., in 1857, arrived at St. John from Bombay in ballast in order to get a cargo. To make such a lengthy voyage in ballast was unprecedented and gave an indication of the times. The Beau Monde, it should be noted, made the passage from Bombay to St. John in 101 days, which for a vessel 22 years old is not at all bad, and one can guess that her skipper kept the old hooker rooting along all the way when he thought of the expense of droghing ballast from India to St. John.
Ship-building was naturally halted. But a few noteworthy vessels were constructed during the year, notably the ships Norwood, 1587 tons, and the J. V. Troop, 1295 tons. The Norwood was built by J. Fraser, St. John, and the J. V. Troop by John Parker.
In 1879, the Norwood, under Captain Gregory, left Liverpool on November 22nd, in ballast for Sandy Hook. Arriving there on December 12th, she sailed next day for St. John, N.B., and arrived there on December 18th. The passage to Sandy Hook was made in 19 days from Liverpool, and her time from there to St. John, via Sandy Hook, was 25 days.
In 1884, the J. V. Troop, in command of Captain Farnsworth, passed Dover on July 14th, 79 days out from Pisagua, Chile, to Hamburg. She was condemned in 1903 while under the Norwegian flag. Also built this year was the barque Stillwater, 1052 tons, by David Lynch for the Troop fleet, while John Rowan at Indiantown, St. John, built the barque Veronica, 1093 tons, for Wm. Thomson and Co.
William Hickman, at Dorchester, built the barque William Cochran, 1091 tons; A. Parks and Sons, St. Martins, built the Venezuela, 917 tons, and Gaius Turner, at Harvey Bank, built the barque Egeria, 897 tons.
In 1883, commanded by Captain Carter, the Egeria left New York on January 30th, and arrived at Amsterdam with a cargo of barrelled petroleum on February 18th, a fine passage of 18 days. Discharging her oil cargo and loading one of iron and empty barrels, she left Amsterdam on March 12th, and arrived at New York on April 5th, a westward passage of 24 days. The round voyage was made in 64 days, including detentions.
In the late ’seventies, the St. John brig Laura B., Captain Sherrad, sailed from St. John with barrelled potatoes for London. From London she sailed to Sydney, N.S., and loaded a cargo of coal there for St. John, arriving back at the latter port after an absence of 58 days.
What has already been written about conditions in Nova Scotia shipping during the ’seventies applies to that of New Brunswick. Both enjoyed the boom times and both suffered during the depression. While many of their ships engaged in the lumber trade, yet a great fleet were world traders and carried coal to Rio and the East from Wales, guano and nitrates from Chile and Peru, grain from San Francisco, barrelled oil and grain from U.S. Atlantic ports to Europe. Conditions aboard the ships of New Brunswick were the same as on the Nova Scotians, and seafaring men indiscriminately classed them both under the name of “Bluenose” vessels.
Many of the New Brunswick firms and individuals identified with her shipping and ship-building moved to Liverpool in the ’sixties and ’seventies and operated B.N.A. ships out of the great British port. Among those families that moved to England, or had some members who did so, were the Roberts, De Wolfs, Vaughans, Soleys, and Wrights. Many of these people attained considerable prominence in British shipping circles.
In 1876, W. and R. Wright, in Liverpool, owned ten New Brunswick-built ships, many of them of large tonnage. Under their flag at that date were the following vessels: Bride of Lorn, Callixene, David G. Fleming, Ellerslie, Grand Duke, Mistress of the Seas, Morning Light, Oneota, Parkfield, Star of India, all of which have been recorded elsewhere in this record. Similar fleets were operated by the De Wolfs and others.
Mention has already been made of the Thomson family of St. John, who owned a large fleet of sailing ships and steamers. The Troop fleet was founded by Jacob V. Troop and carried on by his sons. Jacob V. Troop became wealthy through his shipping operations, and was a member of the New Brunswick Provincial Parliament. He died in October, 1881.
They built ’em on the beaches an’ they built ’em in th’ cricks,
They carved her figger-head themselves an’ fashioned up her sticks.
They didn’t use no blue-prints when they set her up in frame,
For the builders they was sailormen what knew the sailin’ game.
By 1870, most of the famous old Quebec ship-builders had passed away or else retired, and ship-building at Quebec was on a steady decline ever since 1865. The leading ship-builders of 1870 were Pierre Valin, Jean Elie Gingras, Narcisse Rosa, McKay and Warner, T. H. Oliver, Wm. Charland, John Sharples, Dunn and Samson, Baldwin and Dinning, and F. X. Marquis. The leading ship-owners were James Gibb Ross, P. V. Valin, Felix Carbray, J. Lane, Narcisse Rosa, and a few others. But Quebeckers never went into the shipping game as did the residents of the other Maritime Provinces. Quebec builders constructed ships principally for sale and did not go in for operating them. Ross, Valin and the other Quebec ship-owners operated ships in transatlantic and foreign trades but sold them whenever they had a chance. Thus, the Quebeckers never became as prominent in world carriage as did the Nova Scotians and New Brunswickers.
Some splendid ships were built in Quebec during the ’seventies, vessels which received the highest class from the surveyors of Lloyd’s and Bureau Veritas. Many Quebec men, both French and English, went to sea and officered their ships, but they did not take to it in the manner of the others. Thus, a goodly number of Quebec packets were commanded by Britishers.
An attempt was made at Quebec to build composite ships, i.e. vessels with iron frames and wooden planking. Baldwin built two such craft under a shed, but before completion the shed and the ships were destroyed by fire in May, 1870. The experiment was never repeated.
In 1870, Narcisse Rosa built a large ship of 1812 tons called the Francisco. She was 231 feet long, and the biggest Quebecker of the year. Wm. Cotnam built the Guinevere, 1020 tons, and T. H. Oliver, the Ireland, 1004 tons. Thirteen barques of between 500 and 1000 tons were also launched during 1870. One of the latter was a barque called the Eleonore, 679 tons, launched in August and sold to a firm in France. While bound across in October, she ran ashore at Fox River, Gulf of St. Lawrence, and was condemned and sold. Another Eleonore, 750 tons, was built in 1871, by Narcisse Rosa, to replace her. The French bought a number of Quebec-built ships.
The biggest ship of the year was the Lady Lisgar, 1241 tons, built by Wm. Baldwin. Narcisse Rosa built the ship Oneida, 1210 tons. A few barques and smaller craft were also constructed in Quebec shipyards.
The year 1871 was a disastrous year for shipping in the Gulf of St. Lawrence. Twenty-two vessels, in the Fall, were caught in the ice and had to be abandoned by their crews. Narcisse Rosa tells the following about a barque, the Marie Eliza, 888 tons, which he built in 1871:—
“The barque Marie Eliza, commanded by my son-in-law, J. B. L. Carriere, left Quebec for Marseilles in November. Madame Carriere was also aboard. After the barque sailed, I went to Montreal to superintend the discharging of my barque Leonie, which had arrived there from France with a general cargo of 750 tons. We worked 36 hours, and the temperature began to fall, accompanied by a snowstorm and heavy frost. We arranged to take the vessel down to Quebec next morning, but when day came the harbour of Montreal was enclosed in ice solid enough to bear the weight of a man. We tried to get the ship out—telegraphing everywhere for a steamer—but without success. I had to lay the Leonie up for the winter.
“Then I received a telegram that the Marie Eliza was fast in the ice somewhere below Quebec with many other vessels of the Fall fleet. I went immediately to Quebec, but could not gather any definite information as to where the ship was. Taking a carriage, I drove down to Father Point, and heard there that the ship was seen off Metis. I took sleigh and arrived at Sandy Bay at 2 p.m. in a tempest of snow that obscured the view and went into a house there, where I was informed that I could see the ships in the offing. When I entered the place, I was hardly recognisable from the snow which covered me, and I was astonished to hear a lady within crying, ‘It is papa! I recognise his voice!’ It was my daughter who had sailed in the Marie Eliza with her husband.
“It appears that when the barque was jammed fast in the ice with her boats frozen solid and useless, four men came out from the shore with a small boat which they had dragged over the floes. My son-in-law accepted their aid for the purpose of placing his wife safely ashore, and both accompanied the men, taking six hours to cover the four miles to land over the ice. After he had taken his wife to a safe place, Captain Carriere went back to take charge of his ship, much against the wishes of his wife, who pleaded with him to remain until the storm was over.
“I went out again to see what had become of the barque in the storm, and drove towards Matane. Night was shutting down, and we had driven quite a distance from Sandy Bay along the shore road, when my driver suddenly spied Captain Carriere. ‘The ship was lost from sight after I got my wife ashore,’ he explained, ‘and now I cannot find her.’ As it was too dark to see anything out on the river, we both returned in the sleigh to where my daughter was staying.
“Next day, we drove towards Matane, and there I was told by some persons that the Marie Eliza had run aground at Grande Anse. We continued on down to that place, and there I found my barque ashore in 19 feet of water, and after an examination, I decided to abandon her. It was impossible for any person to remain aboard, so I took the crew off and departed for Quebec, after naming a provisional guardian to look after the vessel and her gear.
“When I reached Rivière du Loup, I got a telegram saying that the Marie Eliza had floated off and vanished. Then I heard that she had come ashore again at Fox River. Floating off again, she drifted down the Gulf and out through Cabot Straits, finally fetching up on one of the islands of St. Pierre and Miquelon at the end of January. The inhabitants soon stripped the vessel, and she was broken up. Thus ended the barque that for three months journeyed without a crew in the ice floes of the Gulf of St. Lawrence.”
The foregoing is my translation from Rosa’s account of the affair, written in French, and is interesting as a pen picture of how Quebec ship-owners had to battle with the Frost King which lays his icy grip on the St. Lawrence from December to April.
Ship-building at Quebec in 1872 appeared to be quite brisk, as nine ships registering over 1000 tons were built there during the year, in addition to a number of smaller craft. The largest vessel was the ship Edinburgh, 1664 tons, built by J. E. Gingras; P. V. Valin built the ship St. George, 1511 tons; Dunn and Sampson, the Saint Vincent, 1298 tons; Thos. Oliver, the Lady Dufferin, 1336 tons; Wm. Baldwin, the Lady Allan, 1215 tons. The Saint Vincent was under the Uruguayan flag in 1905 as the Maristany. All the above vessels were sold abroad.
J. E. Gingras, in 1873, built the ship Clydesdale, 1889 tons, for J. G. Ross. Her dimensions were 233 × 42·9 × 25·1 feet, and she was the largest ship built in Quebec. Closely approaching the Clydesdale, P. V. Valin launched the ship Earl of Dufferin, 1777 tons, and 227 × 41·7 × 25 feet. Other large ships were: ship Circassian, 1558 tons; ship Scotia, 1554 tons, built by Dunn and Sampson; ship Cleveland, 1263 tons, built by Wm. Charland; ship Greenock, 1240 tons, built by F. X. Marquis; ship Venus, 1176 tons, built by H. Warner. With the exception of three or four, practically every vessel of over 500 tons built in Quebec this year was sold abroad.
In 1874, the shipping of the Province of Quebec amounted to 1840 vessels, aggregating 219,000 tons. Compared with the other Atlantic Provinces, Quebec held third place. Quebec ship-owners, in 1874, had 45 ships and barques of over 500 tons each on the registry of the Province.
The largest vessels of 1874 were: ship White Rose, 1528 tons, built by Dunn and Sampson for Jas. G. Ross; ship Reciprocity, 1482 tons, built by J. Lane; ship Calcutta, 1428 tons, built by W. Charland for Ross; ship Rona, 1369 tons, built by Gingras for Ross; ship Tintern Abbey, 1346 tons, built by Valin for Ross; ship Malabar, 1322 tons, built by F. X. Marquis for Ross. It is quite evident that the Ross concern was backing all the builders of this year, as the majority of the vessels built in Quebec during 1874 were either owned or managed by them.
The biggest year in Quebec ship-building was 1864, when 105 ships, aggregating 59,333 tons, were built. From that date, the building of ships gradually declined. It must be remembered that most of the Quebec ships were built for sale abroad, or built to British accounts, and it was only when the market for wooden ships became a fluctuating one that concerns like J. G. Ross and a few of the wealthier builders began to operate ships in transatlantic and foreign trades. But an idea of the magnitude of ship-building in Quebec may be gained from the fact that from 1787 to 1875, something like 3873 ships, aggregating 1,285,842 tons, were built in Quebec port and vicinity.
From 1875 to 1879, the construction of ships grew smaller yearly. Iron ships were preferred in the foreign markets by reason of the low insurance rates on them, and steam was ousting sail. When steel began to be used in the later ’seventies, ships built of that material were cheaper in the long run than wooden craft. They were lighter framed and consequently carried more cargo, and their upkeep was much lower. The Suez Canal put a crimp in the Eastern trade for sailing ships, and the compound engine brought forth the tramp steamer into the low-class freight voyages. The native Quebecker did not take to seafaring as did the Nova Scotians and New Brunswickers, nor did the population of the Province interest themselves in shipping investments—all of which aided in the decline. Yard after yard was being shut down, and the shipwrights were drifting up to the Great Lakes and to the States.
In 1875, the number of vessels registering over 500 tons built in Quebec was 19; in 1879 it had dropped to 6. The largest vessels of the period and their builders were as follows:—
Ship King of Algeria, 1609 tons, built by Henry Dinning. 1875. |
Ship Enterprise, 1515 tons, built by T. H. Oliver for J. Lane. 1875. |
Ship Windsor, 1438 tons, built by P. V. Valin. 1875. |
Ship Dominion, 1287 tons, built by P. Baldwin. 1875. |
Ship Queensland, 1248 tons, built by Wm. Charland. 1875. |
Ship Seringapatam, 1154 tons, built by F. X. Marquis. 1875. |
Barque Staghound, 1013 tons, built by Dunn and Samson. 1875. |
Barque Havelock, 1096 tons, built by Wm. Charland. 1875. |
Ship Lakefield, 1039 tons, built by Dunn and Samson. 1875. |
Ship Devonshire, 1536 tons, built by J. E. Gingras. 1876. |
Ship Stafford, 1390 tons, built by Dunn and Samson. 1876. |
Ship Bokhara, 1143 tons, built by I. and I. Samson. 1876. |
Barque Peruvian, 1059 tons, built by P. V. Valin. 1876. |
Ship Sardinian, 1542 tons, built by P. V. Valin. 1877. |
Ship Citadel, 1401 tons, built by I. and I. Samson. 1877. |
Ship Lorenzo, 1244 tons, built by Henry Dinning. 1877. |
Ship Indian Chief, 1238 tons, built by Dunn and Samson. 1877. |
Ship Cosmo, 1220 tons, built by Henry Dinning. 1877. |
Ship Sarmatian, 1142 tons, built by P. V. Valin. 1877. |
Ship Batavia, 1110 tons, built by F. X. Marquis. 1877. |
Ship Dunsyre, 1084 tons, built by J. E. Gingras. 1877. |
Barque Verity, 1022 tons, built by Wm. Charland. 1877. |
Ship Mohawk, 1338 tons, built by J. E. Gingras. 1878. |
Ship Germanic, 1269 tons, built by P. Baldwin. 1878. |
Ship Polynesian, 1167 tons, built by P. V. Valin. 1878. |
Ship Shannon, 1155 tons, built by F. X. Marquis. 1878. |
Barque Assyrian, 1093 tons, built by Wm. Charland. 1878. |
Ship Vicereine, 1465 tons, built by I. Samson and Co. 1879. |
Ship Uphoree, 1314 tons, built by N. Rosa. 1879. |
Ship Montagnais, 1297 tons, built by E. Samson. 1879. |
Ship Geraldine, 1168 tons, built by Wm. Charland. 1879. |
Some of the above ships were built of hard wood. The Geraldine was constructed of oak and other hard woods, iron- and copper-fastened, and bilge strapped with iron. She was afloat in 1905 under the Spanish flag. A barque called Cyprus, 916 tons, was built by Charland in 1878, for Liverpool owners, of hackmatack and hard wood.
Narcisse Rosa, a Quebec ship-builder, states that Captain Joseph Elzear Bernier of that city took a ship across to England from Quebec in 15 days, and another in 16 days. Bernier took many Quebec-built vessels across to the U.K. or the Continent, delivering them to owners or negotiating the sale. He is stated to have made 46 transatlantic crossings at an average of 22 days each.
A small barque of 516 tons called the Amicus, built in Quebec in 1878 and owned by Rosa, sailed from Ste. Anne des Monts, in the Gulf of St. Lawrence, in September, 1887, for Glasson Dock, Lancaster, England, with a cargo of spool wood. A French-Canadian, Captain Ludger Bolduc, was in command. Two days out, the little barque met rough weather and the deck load had to be jettisoned. She leaked badly, and at times had six feet of water in the hold. Yet, with all hands pumping the whole of the voyage, she made the run to Glasson Dock in 16 days.
The ship Enterprise, built in 1875, in 1888 made the run from Bic, Gulf of St. Lawrence, to Greenock in 17 days. The Enterprise was afterwards sold to the Norwegians, like many other B.N.A. ships.
In 1877, Henry Fry, a Quebec ship-owner and Lloyd’s agent there, determined to show Quebec ship-builders how a first-class vessel should be built. He gave Henry Dinning the order to build him a ship to certain specifications, and the 1200-ton ship Cosmo was constructed according to Fry’s ideas. She was 200 feet overall, 37·3 feet extreme beam, and 23·3 feet depth of hold. Like the Rock City, built by McKay and Warner for Fry some years previously, the Cosmo was ceiled with two thicknesses of three-inch planking bolted on diagonally and running in one length from the upper stringers to the bilge. The keel and the planking to the light water-line were of finest Western rock elm. The bilges were composed of logs of the same wood running from 7 to 14 inches thick—all edge bolted. The frame was of extra size square tamarac, also the beams. She was copper-fastened up to 22 feet and tree-nailed with locust and rock elm.
The foremast, mainmast, and bowsprit were of iron—an innovation for Quebec builders—and her cabins were beautifully finished in ash and black walnut. For a figurehead, she had an artistically carved portrait of the Florentine merchant Cosimo de Medici. The Cosmo was intended for the California and East Indian trade.
When she was launched, Lloyd’s surveyor stated that the Cosmo was the finest ship ever constructed at Quebec yards. Ten years later, in 1887, she was owned by James G. Ross, of Quebec.
The residents of “The Garden of the Gulf” contributed their share to the old square-rigged marine of British North America. The “Island” vessels were mostly small craft of under 1000 tons, but during the ’seventies many P.E.I. ships and barques were engaged in foreign trades, commanded by native masters. Being the smallest of the Maritime Provinces in area and population, the shipping of P.E.I. was naturally not extensive as far as vessels of the larger class were concerned.
A smart little Island-built ship was the Gondolier, 1049 tons, built in 1877 at Egmont Bay, P.E.I., and owned by the Hon. Angus McMillan, Summerside, P.E.I. Commanded by Captain Atkinson, the Gondolier, in 1878, made two remarkably fast passages. Leaving Newcastle, New South Wales, on April 18th, she arrived at Yokohama on May 25th, a passage of 36 days. But according to a report in the New York Maritime Register of 1878, she made the passage in 33 days, “fastest on record.” It is quite possible that the ship sailed after or arrived before the dates mentioned. Often the ships would lay to an anchor in a bay or river for a day or two before actually berthing in a port or departing from it. The Gondolier sailed again from Yokohama on June 27th, for Victoria, B.C., and arrived there on July 21st, after a passage of 24 days, “one of the best, if not the shortest, known,” remarks the Register. The Gondolier left Quebec, October 30th, 1877, and arrived at Melbourne on January 29th, 1878, a passage of 91 days.
The Gondolier was wrecked on Sable Island in June, 1880, while bound from Rotterdam to New York.
For the purpose of embodying them in this record, I will give particulars of some of the Island vessels. In 1871, the ship James Duncan, 699 tons, was built at Bay Fortune, for James Duncan, Charlottetown; in 1873, the barque James Peake, 649 tons, was built at Mount Stewart for Peake Bros., Charlottetown; also barque Gulnare, 549 tons, at Cardigan for L. C. Owen, Charlottetown. The year 1874 was quite a brisk one in Island ship-building, nine vessels of between 500 and 1000 tons having been launched that year for local owners, which shows that the little Province was taking advantage of the boom times in shipping. The vessels are listed herewith:—
Barque Lady Dufferin, 920 tons, built by Jas. Yeo, Port Hill, for James Yeo. |
Barque Victoria, 748 tons, built by Wm. Richards, Bideford, for Wm. Richards. |
Barque Cavalier, 699 tons, built at Fortune Bridge for James Duncan, Charlottetown. |
Barque Matilda, 627 tons, built at Summerside for Wm. Richards, Bideford. |
Barque William Owen, 599 tons, built at Dundas for L. C. Owen, Charlottetown. |
Barque Osseo, 583 tons, built at Carleton for John Yeo, Port Hill. |
Barque Evangeline, 562 tons, built at Enmore River for Wm. Richards, Bideford. |
Barque Willie McLaren, 560 tons, built at Cardigan River for Wm. McLaren, Georgetown. |
Barque George Peake, 550 tons, built at Mount Stewart for Peake Bros., Charlottetown. |
All these vessels were registered at Charlottetown, and were built of spruce, yellow pine, and hard wood, copper- and iron-fastened. The Victoria was under the Norwegian flag in 1905.
In 1874, there were 1 ship and 11 barques of between 500 and 1000 tons on the Charlottetown register. In addition to these craft, there were quite a number of small vessels—brigs, brigantines, and schooners—engaged in freighting potatoes, lumber, and fish to the U.S. and the West Indies. Many of the P.E.I. brigs and brigantines were built for parties in the South of England. As in other parts of the Maritime Provinces, ship-building in P.E.I. declined until in 1880 there were but 19 vessels built, aggregating but 5591 tons.
There were plenty of square-riggers built on the Great Lakes—a few barques, but mostly barquentines, brigs, brigantines and topsail schooners—and most were engaged in freighting on the inland fresh-water seas during the summer season of open water. A few Lake vessels came out, via the St. Lawrence Canals, to engage in ocean trading during the winter, while others made regular voyages with lumber from Great Lakes ports across the Atlantic.
In 1877, Calvin and Breck, at Garden Island, near Kingston, Ont., built the barque Garden Island. She was 168 feet long, stem-head to taffrail, 36·4 feet beam, and 21·3 feet deep, and registered 870 tons. Her construction was of oak, elm, and pine, and she was iron- and copper-fastened. The Garden Island was a salt-water trader, and was afloat in 1905 under the Norwegian flag as the Trio.
In the year 1880, Nova Scotia was the premier ship-building province, with 136 new vessels built that year aggregating 38,252 tons. New Brunswick came second with 48 vessels of 14,508 tons. Quebec built 38 vessels of 6289 tons, and Prince Edward Island came fourth with 19 vessels of 5591 tons. It will be seen that Quebec was far behind the output of former years.
We’ve floundered off the Texel,
Awash with sodden deals,
We’ve slipped from Valparaiso
With the Norther at our heels:
We’ve ratched beyond the Crossets
That tusk the Southern Pole,
And dipped our gunnels under
To the dread Agulhas roll.
“The Merchantmen,” by Rudyard Kipling.
The Bluenose ships of the ’eighties are those most likely to be remembered by the present generation. They were, undoubtedly, splendid ships, well equipped and constructed of the best materials. They were cargo sailers, pure and simple, but nevertheless many of them had a fine turn of speed and, under hard-driving masters and mates, often made clipper passages. But the number of vessels built yearly was gradually falling off, though the tonnage of the ships was increasing. In Nova Scotia, ship-building activities in the ’eighties were pretty well confined to Yarmouth, Pictou, and the Counties bordering on Minas Basin and the head of the Bay of Fundy. Yarmouth was dropping out of the ship-building and ship-owning game, but there seemed to be a boom up around Windsor, where magnificent square-riggers were being built to class 14 years’ A.1.
In 1880, Yarmouth owners added but five ships and one barque to their fleet. The largest was the ship Abbie S. Hart, 1450 tons, built for Wm. Law and others. Another fine ship was the Novara, 1445 tons, built for W. D. Lovitt and others. Murray Lawson, in his Record of Yarmouth Shipping, relates a strange coincidence in connection with the loss of the Novara:—
“Ship Novara, 1445 tons, of Yarmouth, N.S., launched in 1880, sailed from Newcastle, England, on the 5th November, 1881, for San Francisco, with a cargo of coals, and was burned in lat. 1° 16′ S., long. 114° W., on the 13th March, 1882, the three boats’ crews having been picked up by passing vessels. Ship Norval, 1427 tons, of Greenock, Scotland, launched in 1880, sailed from Hull, England, on 26th October, 1881, for San Francisco, with a cargo of coals, and was burned in lat. 1° 30′ N., long. 120° W., on the 4th March, 1882, the three boats’ crews having been picked up by passing vessels. We do not remember hearing of two such almost parallel cases—the names, sizes, cargoes, year built, dates of sailing, voyage, cause of disaster, latitude and longitude, number of boats, date of loss, etc., being almost identical.”
Captain Henry Lewis, at Salmon River, built the fine ship N. B. Lewis, 1325 tons, for his brother, himself and others. The ship Vandyck, 1377 tons, built in 1880 for Geo. H. Lovitt, had a short life, being wrecked on the Bird Rocks, Gulf of St. Lawrence, in 1883. The ship Nettie Murphy, 1373 tons, built for John Murphy and others, was abandoned in the North Atlantic in 1893 while bound from Pensacola to Dundee with pitch-pine timber. The one barque of the Yarmouth fleet in 1880 was the Patagonia, 1155 tons, built by T. Killam at Tusket for Killam Bros. She was under the Norwegian flag in 1905.
D. R. and C. F. Eaton, at Eatonsville, built the ship Fred E. Scammell, 1350 tons, in 1880, and she was registered in Parrsboro’. Amasa Loomer, at Spencer’s Island, built the ship E. J. Spicer, 1268 tons; W. P. Cameron, South Maitland, built the barque Isabel, 1178 tons; P. R. Crichton, at Kingsport, built the barque Katahdin, 1145 tons; Bigelow, at Canning, built the barque Conductor, 1063 tons, for C. Rufus Burgess, Cornwallis; Jas. Mosher, at Avondale, built the barque Bellona, 1040 tons; Soley, at Lower Economy, built the barque Northern Empire, 865 tons, and McDougall, at Selmah, built the barque Dalhanna, 896 tons. The Isabel, Bellona, Katahdin and Dalhanna were ultimately sold to the Norwegians, the Katahdin being abandoned at sea in 1904, and the Northern Empire went under the Italian flag. Of all the above vessels, the E. J. Spicer was the most noteworthy.
The E. J. Spicer was named after a member of the well-known Spicer family of Spencer’s Island, a family of ship-masters, builders, and owners. She was a very handsome ship, and I am able to reproduce a photograph of her in this volume. Under the command of Captain George D. Spicer, who was a driver and formerly commanded the J. F. Whitney and the Servia, making good passages in both of them, the E. J. Spicer sailed from Norfolk, Va., on January 14th, 1881, and arrived in Liverpool on February 4th, making the passage in 20 days. She made the round voyage from Norfolk to Liverpool and back to New York, including detentions in port, in the fast time of 58 days. Captain Spicer made a number of good passages in this ship.
The E. J. Spicer became famous among Bluenose ships by reason of the stabbing of her mate by one of the hands. On August 4th, 1882, while the ship was lying to an anchor in the Lower Bay of New York ready to sail for London, Daniel Spicer, mate of the ship and a relative of the master, and a strapping young Nova Scotian, six feet tall, powerful, and less than 30 years of age, went for’ard to the fo’c’sle and ordered one of the crew, an Irish Cockney named Patrick Creay, to fetch a tackle along to the fo’c’sle-head. The sailor made a retort which angered the mate and the latter booted him along the deck. Creay ran for a capstan bar, with the mate after him. Both men wrestled for possession of the bar and fell to the deck. Spicer wrenched the bar out of the seaman’s grip, and the latter whipped out his knife and drove it into the mate’s breast with such force as to sever two ribs. Spicer fell dead almost immediately. Creay was locked in the forecastle and afterwards taken in charge by the police.
In his story to the magistrate, Creay, who was a small man, gave his side of the affair in Cockney English as follows: “When I came over the side, this man, who is now dead, and Lord have mercy on ’is soul, said, ‘Now, here, I want you on deck.’ ‘Alright,’ says I, ‘give us time to get aboard.’ We then commenced shifting ourselves. He comes to the fo’c’sle to make a case . . . I got ’arf the length of the deck and I said, ‘I’m willin’ to do wot you tell me.’ . . . Afterwards, on the fo’c’sle, he said, ‘You son of a ——!’ and before I knowed where I was, I got one, two, three, a kick in the stomach and two on the head. When I got up, we both grappled and fell. As soon as he rose he got a capstan bar. I wrestled with him on my knees, and as he lifts the bar, an’ I knows a blow on it would kill me, I out wiv my knife in self-defence an’ stabs ’im. Before he fell he said something, but I couldn’t catch it. Then I looks at ’im and I looks at me knife and throws it overboard.”
The other side of the story was given by the only other member of the crew in sight and hearing, Edward Fish, an English cabin boy: “I was working on deck with deceased when I heard the order given about a tackle. When the deceased ordered the prisoner to bring the tackle for’ard, the latter said: ‘Call me by my right name—Paddy!’ The mate then kicked Paddy once. The latter ran and armed himself with a capstan bar, when the mate closed in on him and both men fought for possession. The mate got it away from Paddy and caught him by the neck, when the latter drew his knife and stabbed him in the left side. The mate immediately fell dead.”
Spicer was but recently married and had just taken leave of his wife, who had come down from Parrsboro’ to New York to be with him ere the ship sailed. Due to the paucity of evidence as to the happening, I believe that Creay got away with a light sentence. A few days after this affair, the mate of a big American ship was stabbed in the stomach by an Irish seaman shortly after leaving New York. It was during the ’eighties that master and officers began to experience much trouble with crews, and the Bluenose mates handled the troublesome ones with a taut hand. Seldom did a B.N.A. ship arrive in port but what some of her hands were up to the Consul laying complaints. There were numerous stabbing affrays, and in one or two instances the mates shot and killed mutineers. As a general rule, the men who got roughly handled were trouble-makers and rowdies, and richly deserved all they got.
J. W. Carmichael at New Glasgow built a barque of 964 tons called the Sulitelma. James Kitchin, at River John, built the barque James L. Harvey, 958 tons, and A. McKenzie, River John, built the barque Kintail, 728 tons.
Three ships and three barques were added to the Yarmouth fleet during 1881, but during the year two ships and seven barques were lost, with 21 lives. At St. Mary’s Bay, N.S., Wm. Burrill and Co. built the ship Minnie Burrill, 1465 tons. In September 1881, the second mate of this ship was arrested at St. John, N.B., for shooting a sailor while at Sydney, N.S. According to statements, the man was ordered aft for duty by the first mate. He refused, and an exchange of words followed. The sailor drew a knife from his belt and rushed at the mate. A murder was prevented by the second mate happening to see the man’s action and pulling out a revolver. He shot the assailant in the breast, wounding him and effectually stopping his attempt to knife the mate. The Minnie Burrill had but a short life, piling up on English Bank, in the River Plate, in 1888, while bound in for Monte Video with coal from Cardiff.
The ship Thomas N. Hart, 1460 tons, was built in 1881 for Wm. Law and Co. and others. In 1886, while bound from New York to Shanghai with a cargo of case oil and coal, she vanished and nothing was heard of her. Also built this year was the barque H. B. Cann, 1299 tons, for H. Cann and others. In July, 1891, commanded by Captain Foote, the H. B. Cann arrived at Victoria, B.C., from Salaverry, Peru, in 39 days—a good passage. In 1895, while bound from Hamburg to Bic, in ballast, she went ashore on the Labrador coast and became a total wreck. The barque Emilie L. Boyd, 1240 tons, was built for Wm. Law and Co. In 1890, while bound from New York to Hong Kong with case oil, she was run into and sunk by the Norwegian tank ship Rolff in the North Atlantic. The ship Nyl-Ghau, 1252 tons, was built for John Lovitt and others. In 1889, while bound from Singapore to Hong Kong with a cargo of timber, the Nyl-Ghau struck on Pratas Reef, and all hands subsequently took to the boats and shaped a course for Hong Kong. It came on to blow during the night, and the mate’s boat and six men vanished. The others were saved. The barque Zebina Goudey, 1087 tons, was built for her namesake and others. In 1896, she was abandoned at sea while bound from Mobile for Sharpness.
The oil trade out of New York afforded profitable cargoes to Bluenose ships in the ’eighties, and it had a good deal to do with the building of ships “up the Bay.” New York firms such as J. F. Whitney and Co. were financially interested in the ships built around Windsor, and it was to New York that these ships went to pick up cargoes of barrelled and case oil. The Whitney firm acted as agents for many Bluenose vessels, and their New York office was a sort of rendezvous for Nova Scotiamen.
Ship-building was quite active around Windsor in 1881. Messrs. Churchill and Sons, of Hantsport, built the barque Scotland, 1537 tons, and 196 feet keel, the largest barque-rigged vessel thus far built in Canada. J. Mosher, at Newport, built the ship Rialto, 1462 tons. She was owned a few years later by Andrew Gibson, Liverpool. Another big barque called the J. E. Graham, 1336 tons, was built at Avondale. J. F. Whitney and Co., New York, owned in her. Capt. Chas. Cox, at Maitland, built the ship Pioneer, 1102 tons. In 1905, she was under the Norwegian flag as the Margarethe. Alfred Putnam, at Maitland, built the barque Mauna Loa, 1086 tons. She was ultimately sold foreign, and in 1916 was afloat as the Austrian Tris Ierachi. McLellan and Black, Great Village, built the barque President, 916 tons. She also ended under the Norwegian flag.
Ezra Churchill’s Scotland was not only the biggest barque of her time, but under the command of Captain William Munroe she made some fast passages. Herewith I give the particulars of one year’s work of this vessel:—
Sailed. | From. | To. | Arrived. | Days. |
1883 | ||||
Aug. 13 | Flushing | New York | Sept. 24 | 41 |
Nov. 1 | New York | London | Nov. 21 | 20 |
Dec. 16 | London | New York | Jan. 23, 1884 | 37 |
1884 | ||||
March 3 | New York | London | March 23 | 20 |
April 12 | London | New York | May 3 | 20 |
June 8 | New York | Antwerp | July 7 | 28 |
Aug. 8 | Flushing | New York | — | — |
It will be noted that the Scotland’s round trip between New York and London commencing with March 3rd, 1884, and ending on May 3rd, was made in 60 days. I understand she carried a cargo to the westward on this voyage, and it is claimed that this was the fastest time ever made by a barque of her size. During the year’s voyaging tabled above, the Scotland carried 80,000 barrels of oil and about 1000 tons of dead-weight cargo.
The barque J. E. Graham was another smart vessel when under the command of Captain Cochrane, of Newport, N.S. On her maiden passage, Captain Cochrane left Horton Bluffs, N.S., on October 18th, 1881, bound to New York to load, and arrived there on October 21st, making the 600 miles down the Bay of Fundy, across the Gulf of Maine, around Nantucket Shoals, and along the Long Island coast to New York in the good time, for a square-rigger, of three days 18 hours.
James Kitchin built the barque Wolfe, 973 tons, at River John. She was built of spruce and the other usual woods, but was copper and galvanised iron-fastened. Copper fastening was used below the load water-line in all B.N.A. square-rigged craft of this and the former decade, but black iron was used above. In the later ’seventies and ’eighties, however, some builders were galvanising the iron fastenings of the upper works. A. McKenzie, at River John, built the barque John Gill, 928 tons. She was also copper- and galvanised iron-fastened. Both vessels were under the Russian flag in 1905, and both were afloat in 1916.
Yarmouth ship-owners added three ships and two barques to their fleet in 1882, in addition to the small craft which we do not treat of in this record. The largest was the ship Vendome, 1550 tons, built for W. D. Lovitt. In 1887, while bound from New York to Amsterdam with a cargo of barrelled oil, she caught fire in the North Sea and had to be abandoned. In the North Atlantic, the Vendome had rescued the crew of a water-logged Norwegian barque, and these, together with the crew of the Yarmouth ship, were taken aboard by the St. John barque Stillwater. At Salmon River, Captain Henry Lewis built the ship Euphemia, 1367 tons, for his own firm and others. In 1905, she was under the Italian flag and registered at Genoa. At Gros Coques, N.S., Geo. H. Lovitt built the Vanduara, 1367 tons, for himself and others. She also went to the Italians later. The two barques were the Neophyte, 1056 tons, and the Guiana, 1265 tons. The Neophyte was built by James Raymond at Church Point for John and James Lovitt. She was sold to the Norwegians later and her name was changed to Barfod. The Guiana was built by F. Weston, Tusket, for Killam Bros., and others. She also went to the Norwegians later. During the year, Yarmouth owners lost three ships and seven barques in addition to smaller craft.
The biggest and finest ship of the year built around Windsor was the Kambira. This vessel was built by P. R. Crichton, Kingsport, for C. R. Burgess, Wolfville, and measured 237·1 × 43·9 × 26·7 feet. Her registered tonnage was 1887 tons, and her gross, 2007 tons. She had two laid decks and beams for a third. After launching, she was towed to St. John to be rigged, and instead of the usual wooden masts, she was fitted with iron lower masts. Iron lower masts were placed in many of the latter B.N.A. ships, but usually only after the original wooden masts had weakened, and the job was invariably done in Great Britain or the Continent. The Kambira was the first Nova Scotia vessel to be thus fitted immediately after launching, as far as I know. Burgess operated the Kambira for many years, and she was still under his ownership in 1905. She was a cargo carrier and was not famed as a passage-maker.
D. R. and C. F. Eaton, at Eatonsville, built the barque Robert S. Besnard, 1200 tons, in 1882. She was afloat in 1905. Jotham O’Brien, at Maccan, built the barque Eudora, 1110 tons, for himself and others. She also was afloat in 1905 under the same ownership.
James Kitchin, at River John, built the barque Innerwick, 1220 tons. In 1905, she was under the Italian flag and known as the Scillin. Alpheus Marshall, at Bear River, built the barque Keswick, 869 tons. She went to the Norwegians later, and was renamed Allegro.
Two ships and one barque were added to the Yarmouth fleet in 1883. The largest was the ship Fred B. Taylor, 1798 tons, built for Wm. Law and Co., and others, at a cost of $80,000. In June, 1892, while the Taylor was bound from Havre to New York in ballast, she was run into and sunk by the North German Lloyd liner Trave 250 miles east of Sandy Hook. The Trave actually drove clean through the Taylor, the two halves of the sailing ship floating past on either side of the liner. The mate, an Englishman, was killed in his berth, and the carpenter was drowned. All the others of the crew were saved.
The ship Mary L. Burrill, 1455 tons, was built for Wm. Burrill and Co. In 1900, she was abandoned in the South Atlantic while bound for Saigon from New York with oil.
J. Mosher, at Newport, built a large ship of 1722 tons called the Record. She was owned by Andrew Gibson, Liverpool. Wm. Card, at Avondale, built the ship Tuskar, 1583 tons. She was later sold to the Italians and as the barque Annibale went “missing” in 1905. Alfred Putnam, at Maitland, built the barque Strathome, 1115 tons, for himself. In 1916 she was still afloat as the Italian barque Luigina. The Spencer’s Island Co., at Spencer’s Island, built the ship Stephen D. Horton, 1616 tons. She was registered at Parrsboro’.
Two large ships were built at River John in 1883. Kitchin built the W. H. McNeil, 1400 tons, and A. McKenzie built the ship James Martin, 1366 tons. The tonnage of the ships built in this locality was evidently increasing yearly.
Four large ships were added to the Yarmouth fleet in 1884, the most noteworthy being the ship County of Yarmouth. The County of Yarmouth was built by H. P. Boudreau, at Belliveau’s Cove, for W. D. Lovitt. Her dimensions were 242 × 46·6 × 24 feet; she was of spruce, hard pine, and oak, copper- and iron-fastened, metalled and salted, and registered 2154 tons. She was rigged as a three-masted ship and classed for 12 years’ A.1. At the time of her launch, she was the second largest Nova Scotia-built ship, the W. D. Lawrence being the largest.
Her first voyage was from St. John to Liverpool with deals under Captain Corning. She sailed on July 15th, 1884, and arrived on August 8th, a passage of 23 days. Her next voyage was from Cardiff to Rio with coal, and she took 58 days to make the trip. She was a general trader until 1895, and I cannot find that she was anything but an ordinary sailer. In December, 1895, she left Hull for Pensacola in ballast, and was totally dismasted and otherwise damaged in the North Sea during a heavy gale. The Argentine Government bought her, fitted her out again, and took her to Buenos Ayres, where she was used as a training ship.
Another large ship built in 1884 was the ship Ellen A. Read, 1750 tons. She was constructed at Tusket by J. A. Hatfield for Wm. Law and Co., and others. The Ellen A. Read was classed 13 years’ A.1. by the Bureau Veritas and was a very fine ship. She had what is known nowadays as a “spike boom”—her bowsprit and jib-boom being a single stick 75 feet in length. She was afloat and under the British flag 20 years after building.
The ship Vanloo, 1520 tons, was built by C. White, at Gros Coques, for Geo. H. Lovitt and others. She went under the Italian flag later. The ship Naulpactus, 1399 tons, was also built in 1884 for John and James Lovitt and others.
At Meteghen River, a barquentine of 825 tons, the C. W. Janes, was built in 1884. She was on the Canadian Register in 1912. At Bridgewater, L. Hewitt built the barquentine Angara, 630 tons, for W. H. Owen, Lunenburg.
C. R. Burgess gave Peter R. Crichton of Kingsport an order to build him another ship like the Kambira. Crichton laid the keel for a slightly larger ship after the same model as the Kambira, but shortly after commencing construction he died. Burgess finished the new one, which he called Karoo, and she registered 1938 tons. After years of trading in the Burgess fleet, this big cargo carrier was sold to the Norwegians, and in 1905 was afloat as the ship Atlantic. George Armstrong, at Summerville, built the ship Trojan, 1595 tons. She ended her days under the Italian flag. Other vessels were the barques R. Morrow, 1156 tons, and Osberga, 1116 tons, built at Maitland for local owners. The Morrow was on the Register in 1912, and the Osberga was afloat and Canadian owned 20 years after launching. At Colchester, Monteith built the ship Grandee, 1616 tons. She was commanded by Captain James Ellis, late of the W. D. Lawrence.
A. McKenzie, at River John, built a large ship called the Caldera, 1575 tons, in 1884. When freights began to drop and it no longer paid Canadians to own and operate big sailing ships, she was sold to the Italians. James Kitchin built the fine ship Warrior, 1611 tons, for himself. She was constructed of spruce, birch, and yellow pine, copper- and galvanised iron-fastened, had two decks, and was the largest vessel built in River John. She was the second vessel of the same name built by Kitchin, a barque Warrior having been built by him in 1864. The Warrior was a typical Bluenose ship and had double topgallant-yards on all three masts as well as three skysails. She was one of the few Nova Scotiamen who affected the American fashion of having the wheel enclosed in a wheel-house. The Warrior was no clipper but could log 12 knots in a whole sail breeze. She was commanded by Captain J. R. Kitchin for many years prior to her being sold to the Italians in 1900.
The Warrior staged some lively scenes during the middle ’nineties and gained a reputation as a “hard packet.” In September, 1896, she arrived in Boston with a cargo of hemp from Cebu, Philippines, and the majority of her crew jumped for the dock as soon as the ship got close enough and ran to the British Consulate, where they preferred a list of serious charges against the master, mates, and steward. The Boston newspapers got a sensational story from the crew and came out with scare-heads of excessive brutality towards the men by the Warrior’s afterguard. It occasioned a mild furore among the Bostonians, and brought thousands of people down to the New York, New Haven, and Hartford Docks to see the “Bluenose hell-ship.”
One of the crew, Alfred White, drafted an account of the occurrences on board and filed it with the Consul. This document ran as follows:—
“We came on board in Rio de Janeiro in December, 1895, and left for Manila in ballast. The voyage started with the officers cursing and swearing and calling the crew all manner of bad names. A few days out, some of the men were beaten with fists and kicked. The second mate used a rope’s-end on two occasions. The Captain said several times, ‘Why don’t you take a rope’s-end or a belaying pin and knock their —— brains out!’ After being on board six weeks, the steward assaulted one man, first by taking a sheath knife from his belt, then knocking him down and kicking him in the ribs. The Captain’s dog bit the man several times. The mate came up from below shouting, ‘Give it to him.’ The man did not defend himself. He came to the forecastle with his head covered with blood and washed himself. He had two black eyes and four or five dog bites. The Captain, who was reading, looked up and smiled and went on with his book. The man was struck on the left ear and has been deaf ever since. Two weeks later, the same man got another beating from the steward and a biting from the dog. His shirt, soaked with blood from his wounds, was torn from his back.
“The boatswain, who had been laid up for four or five weeks with fever, was buried with signs of what some of us thought to be life, for just as we were ordered to sew the body up in canvas, he moved his mouth as though gasping for breath and at the same time opened his eyes. One of the crew said to the second mate, ‘He is not dead, sir.’ No attention was paid and the man was buried without hardly having time to die. The Captain did not attend burial and did not see the body.
“On April 10th, the mate beat another man with a club, hitting him terrible blows on the head, chest and other parts of the body. Not content with that, the same day he gave another of the crew a black eye. The man hit with the club has been spitting blood at intervals ever since as a result of the blows on his chest, and besides has completely lost the hearing of one ear.
“On April 13th, another of the men was in trouble with the second mate while still in the port of Cebu. The mate chased him with a sheath knife, and to escape the man jumped overboard. He had to struggle for his life owing to the swift current. Before returning to the ship, he reported the case to the British Consul, who told him to go back to the ship. He advised him to report the case to the British Consul at Boston.
“On May 3rd, the steward attacked another man and set the dog to biting him. The dog bit him in several places on the arm. This is not a ship, it is a hell afloat, and although every man has tried his best to get along, it has all been a failure. Ill treatment, curses, dog bites have been our reward.
“Left Cebu, May 3rd, and limejuice was not given out although some men went aft and complained of sore mouths and sore throats. This was July 25th. The food has been bad all the way and continued so to the end. There is a good deal more to say, but it would take too long to say it here.”
This terrible narrative was signed by White and eleven of the Warrior’s crew, and the British Consul immediately called an Inquiry and commanded the master and officers of the Warrior to appear before him. The result of the Inquiry, however, was not given the same publicity as the story of the crew. But, oddly enough, I secured the story of the voyage from the man who was mate of the Warrior at the time prior to securing the above newspaper account. He was a Nova Scotian of the capable, two-fisted breed who respected sailors who did their duty but severely disciplined those that would not or could not. His narrative throws a different light on the affair:—
“We took the built masts out of the Warrior in Antwerp and replaced them with steel lower masts, then towed in ballast to Barry Docks, Wales, where we loaded coal for Rio. Half the crew were shipped in Antwerp and the rest in Barry—a mixed crowd of Germans, Spaniards, Portuguese and Scandinavians. On the voyage out the crew soldiered on the job and I had to liven ’em up all the time in order to work ship at all. Often had to have recourse to rope’s-end and toe of the boot.
“We made a fair passage out, but on arrival at Rio, I had to appear before the British Consul to answer complaints of ill-usage. At the hearing, the chief complainant was forced to admit that he deserved what he got. The crew returned to the ship and all of them deserted, some of them swimming ashore.
“We were ordered to Manila, and, when shipping a new crew, we had to sign on part of the former crew of the American ship Roanoke, these men having just served a term in prison for mutiny. The ring-leader of these, a Liverpool Irishman, looked for trouble as soon as he hit the gangway.
“We were 92 days on the passage to Manila, and owing to the mutineers of the Roanoke and their influence on the rest of the crew, we had great trouble in maintaining discipline. During the passage, the Irishman was always looking for trouble, but as I had previously been haled before the British Consul for roughing it up with lazy hounds, I had to keep my hands off him and avoid any action likely to bring me before a Consul again.
“At Manila, we got orders to proceed to Cebu to load a cargo of hemp for Boston. There was no Consul at Cebu. I could discipline these trouble-makers with a free hand. We towed from Manila to Cebu, and as soon as we left the former port, I got the gear ready to discharge ballast—600 tons of clay and 200 tons of stone. We kept the stone in her as a stiffening under the hemp, but I got the clay out by working our sojers until 12 o’clock every night, and by the time we reach Cebu we were all ready to load.
“At Cebu, Pat became really ugly. He was mending sails on the poop one day and left his job and went into the fo’c’sle, refusing to obey the second mate’s orders. The second mate came down and informed me of this while I was busy tallying hemp in the ’tween decks. I made up my mind that I would show the fellow where he got off. I gave the second mate the tally book and told him to carry on, and then I went up to the main deck, where I found my man anxious for a fight. He got it, with interest. Everything went—bare hands and boots. I laid him out, and I was afraid that I had killed him. When he came round, trouble with the crew ended for the time being.
“On the homeward passage to Boston, I never gave ’em time to sit down, night or day. Made work for them—especially night work, such as painting aloft. I’d unbend sails off the for’ard part of the yards and bend them on the after part, painting for’ard part in the day-time, and when the paint dried bend them for’ard again and paint the after portion. They holy-stoned decks, cleaned deck-houses, and made all the changes at night so as to be ready for painting in day-time.
“Arrived in Boston after a passage of 136 days. Just got a line out for’ard and aft when the majority of the crew jumped ashore and ran to the British Consul with a preconcerted yarn prepared. The Boston papers flaunted the men’s story in big headlines—‘Horrors of the Sea. Man buried Alive!’ This latter referred to the bo’sun, who had died on the way from Rio to Manila, and the sailors had told the newspapers and the Consul that he’d opened his eyes as I was sewing him up.
“All hands were at the Inquiry. Had to get a ship-keeper to look after the ship. The owner had to come on from Pictou; the Captain’s friends came, and my friends in Boston came along, thinking I’d got to be an outlaw. All of them expected we’d be hung. Their whole yarn was a concoction to even up with the way we had worked them.
“I appeared before the Consul and told him the truth. I’d given the Irishman a very bad beating. Discipline on the ship hung in the balance and order had to be maintained at any cost. To have weakly permitted the situation to develop into open mutiny would have made it worse for all hands, and as this man was the ring-leader, my action nipped the whole thing in the bud.
“I told the Consul that all we wanted was a square trial, but I asked that all the witnesses be examined separately. This resulted in 14 of them corroborating my testimony, and in only two of them adhering to the planned yarn they’d previously filed with the Consul.
“After the Inquiry was over, the Consul commended my handling of the situation. He couldn’t believe that men could concertedly lie so. But it was no novelty to me.”
According to Captain Kitchin’s testimony, the crew had signed on for the term of three years and were anxious to get paid off. Their yarn was largely a fabrication for the purpose of getting their discharge in Boston. There was no wolf-hound aboard the vessel—only a small bulldog unable to bite. “The men were a dirty crowd,” said Captain Kitchin, “and I don’t wonder that the mates used force. I witnessed two or three cases of insubordination when I myself would have used more force than the mates did.” The upshot of the whole affair was that the men agreed to receive their wages and pay off at the Consulate. No complaint was laid afterwards and the Boston newspapers dropped the whole matter and published the result in an obscure paragraph.
The year 1885 might be characterised as the beginning of the end of square-rigged wooden ships in British North America. In the hands of skilled British shipwrights, iron was made to take the place of wood, and the supremacy which the great timber forests of North America gave to Canadians in the building of ships was by now eclipsed by the cheapness of iron and steel for ship construction. Larger ships could be built of iron or steel; their cargo capacity was much greater by reason of lighter framing; they were granted a much higher classification by Lloyd’s and other societies; their insurance rates were lower and repair bills less, and, if properly taken care of, they could outlast any soft-wood ship. The writer has sailed in a Clyde-built iron sailing ship which was 47 years old at the time, and her hull was good for a century. Iron ships were free from the curse of leakiness and water-soaking which affected most soft-wood ships after a few years at sea, and which relegated the latter craft to the carriage of cargoes that would float them or to those that would not spoil. Iron hulls killed the British North American deep-water square-riggers—nothing else. The victory of the steam tramp came 20 years after the building of large wooden sailing ships was dead beyond recall.
But the surrender took time. There were numbers of Canadians who believed that wooden ships of the largest type and of superior construction were good investments and could find profitable employment for many years to come. These men continued building, but the number of ships built grew yearly less. And, like all great efforts for supremacy, the acme of perfection was reached when the crash came. The ships built in the Maritime Provinces of Canada during the ’eighties and first two years of the ’nineties were the finest samples of the shipwright’s work.
The year 1885 saw the first break in the ranks of Yarmouth shipping, which for 100 years had developed a mighty fleet of merchantmen of wooden hulls. William Law and Co.—leading Yarmouth ship-owners—added the British-built iron barque Bowman B. Law, 1359 tons, to their fleet. She was the first iron sailing vessel to be owned in the port. Lovitt and Co., Jacob Bingay, and others, added but one wooden ship to the local fleet this year—the ship Stalwart, 1545 tons, built at Barton by J. Urquhart. She ended her days under the Spanish flag as the Remedios Pascual, and was afloat in 1905. A barquentine of 488 tons, the Sentinel, was also built this year for W. D. Lovitt. She caught fire in 1895 while on a voyage from Yarmouth to Buenos Ayres, and her crew were six days and nights in the boats ere being picked up. These were all the square-riggers added to the Yarmouth fleet in 1885.
The Spencer’s Island Co., at Spencer’s Island, built the ship Charles S. Whitney, 1651 tons, in 1885. She was copper- and galvanised iron-fastened, and named after a member of the New York firm financially interested in Parrsboro’ ships. The Charles S. Whitney’s dimensions were 236·7 × 42 × 23·8 feet, and she was a good sailer. Under command of Captain George D. Spicer, she made two good passages out to Australian east-coast ports from New York—98 and 104 days respectively, leaving New York in January and February.
When it no longer paid to run her as a sailing ship, she was converted into a barge and renamed Lewis H. St. John. In the business of freighting gypsum from Minas Basin to J. B. King’s plaster-manufacturing plant at Staten Island, New York, the Lewis H. St. John was carrying on in 1922.
J. Mosher, at Avondale, built the barque Avoca, 1334 tons, for Andrew Gibson, Liverpool, or at least he owned her later, as he did many other head of the Bay ships. Alfred Putnam, Maitland, built the barque Strathmuir, 1175 tons, as another addition to his fleet of “Straths.” She was of spruce, birch, and yellow pine, and ended under the Uruguayan flag as the Guernika. Adam McDougall, at Maitland, built the barque Salmon, 1088 tons. She was a speedy vessel.
Osmond O’Brien, at Noel, built a barque of 979 tons, called the New Pactolus. She was known as the Teresa G., and was under the Italian flag in 1905. At Scott’s Bay, J. Steele built a large ship called the Habitant, 1619 tons. In 1905, she was owned by parties in Melbourne, Australia.
In October, 1885, John M. Blaikie at Londonderry, N.S., launched the big four-masted barque John M. Blaikie, 1829 tons, and 245 × 43·6 × 24 feet. She was a spruce and mixed wood vessel, copper- and iron-fastened, and with two decks, and I believe she was the first four-mast barque built in Canada. One similarly rigged vessel was built in 1890—the King’s County—and these were the only craft with four masts, three of which were square-rigged, built in the Maritime Provinces. She was registered in Halifax, and owned by McLellan and Blaikie. In the ’nineties, her captain’s wife died at sea, and was buried at Anjer Point. Some time after, the John M. Blaikie was bound east, and the captain carried a tombstone aboard her to place upon his wife’s grave. True to the traditional superstition of sailors, the ship was lost and the tombstone never marked the grave it was intended for.
In perusing this record, the reader must not assume that I am noting down all the ships built in the various localities during the periods dealt with. The work of compiling a list of such vessels as I have mentioned was, in the first place, a task of considerable magnitude, and meant unlimited searching through shipping registers and other records, while the task of procuring particulars about the ships themselves, their builders, etc., has covered some 10 or 12 years. Only one Nova Scotian port has produced a historian of her shipping who is accurate as to the name of the vessel, tonnage, date of building, and ownership. This was Yarmouth, and J. Murray Lawson has found the subject to be sufficiently interesting and valuable to be worth recording in his “Record of Yarmouth Shipping.” Mr. Lawson listed the locally owned ships since earliest days, and also set down the mishaps which befell many of them, but he did not give any details as to the construction of the vessels, their builders, their passages, nor the ends of all. With Mr. Lawson’s lists as a basis, I have been able to supplement a little the record of Yarmouth shipping, and there are but few omissions as far as the fleet of that locality is concerned. But other important shipping centres lacked citizens of Mr. Lawson’s diligence, and there are no contemporary historians from whom to draw the intimate details. Narcisse Rosa, a ship-builder of Quebec, compiled a list of Quebec built ships during the period of wooden-ship construction there, but the particulars he gave were scanty and not altogether accurate, though valuable to me in my researches. I can say that the Quebec listings are very fully covered in this record. The “Nova Scotia Registry of Shipping,” published in 1865, gave a list of N.S. vessels on the records at that time, which I was able to make use of, but the three books mentioned are all that I have been able to use as specific catalogues of British North American shipping. The shipping of New Brunswick, Prince Edward Island, and other localities in Nova Scotia outside of Yarmouth had to be compiled from sources too varied and numerous to mention. Could I afford the time, and it would mean at least a year of solid application, I might be able to make an accurate and complete catalogue of every square-rigged vessel of over 500 tons built in British North America, but life is too short in this hasty age, and this paragraph is inserted herewith into these chronicles for the purpose of staving off the well-informed reader who may find that I have left out particulars of some well-known vessel, builder, etc.
Yarmouth added but two ships to her fleet in 1886. The largest was the Celeste Burrill, 1763 tons, built by Burrill at Little River, for Wm. Burrill and Co. In 1897, the ships Celeste Burrill and Jane Burrill loaded in New York together for Melbourne. The Jane Burrill left on July 12th, and arrived out on October 19th, a passage of 98 days. The Celeste Burrill sailed on July 24th, and arrived on October 26th, a passage of 93 days. The latter gained five days on her younger sister. The Celeste was commanded by Captain Trefry, and the Jane by Captain Robertson. The other ship built in 1886 was the Louise M. Fuller, 1680 tons, launched at Tusket for Wm. Law and Co. and others. She was a Jonah from the time of her launch, when she stuck on the ways for about a fortnight. Before the year was out, in December, while bound from New York to Liverpool with oil, she met heavy weather, sprung a leak, and had to be abandoned. During 1886, the Yarmouth fleet lost six ships and one barque by perils of the sea. Four Yarmouth men died of yellow fever in South American ports.
In addition to the many natives of the Maritime Provinces who were drowned at sea, a great number died on board their ships from yellow fever. Ships touching at Southern United States ports, the West Indies, and South America often lost every member of the crew by the terrible plague, and it was no uncommon thing for a vessel to have two or three crews die in some such fever port as Santos, Brazil, ere she could be got to sea. Yellow Jack was a sailor’s terror until the ’nineties, when sanitary engineering and practice cleaned up most of the plague spots.
In 1886, Ezra Churchill and Sons, at Hantsport, built the barque Hamburg. She was 1649 tons register and 1743 tons gross, and the largest barque-rigged three-master built in the Maritime Provinces. In later years, she was converted into a gypsum barge, like so many of the Windsor craft, and was afloat in 1922. J. B. North, at Hantsport, built the ship Avonia, 1629 tons, in 1886.
Yarmouth added no deep-water sailing ships to her fleet this year—the first blank since shipping became the mainstay of the locality. One ship and four barques were lost during the year.
At Kingsport, C. Rufus Burgess built the big ship Harvest Queen for his own fleet. The Harvest Queen was a spruce and mixed wood ship, copper- and galvanised iron-fastened, and measured 237·6 × 45 × 24·6 feet. Her registered tonnage was 1894 tons.
The ship George T. Hay, 1647 tons, was built in 1887 by the Spencer’s Island Co., Spencer’s Island, and was named after one of the firm of J. F. Whitney and Co., New York. She was constructed of spruce, birch, and oak, and was copper- and galvanised iron-fastened. Her dimensions were 235·6 × 42 x 23·6 feet.
Commanded by the able Spicer brothers at various times, the George T. Hay made some fine passages. Leaving New York in January, 1901, she made the passage to Melbourne in 82 days. Another similar voyage was made in 86 days. Her best sustained run was one of 960 miles in 3 days made in the South Atlantic near Tristan da Cunha.
The last voyage of the George T. Hay was with baled straw from Rosario to Luderitz Bay, German S.W. Africa. On the voyage to the River Plate, the ship struck some submerged object, which jarred her very badly, while off the Brazilian coast, and she leaked a little, but not enough to cause any anxiety. But on the voyage across from the River to Luderitz Bay, she began to take in so much water that she had to be abandoned after being set on fire. All hands were saved.
T. Mosher, at Avondale, built the barque Avon, 1601 tons. She was under the Italian flag in 1905. Alexander Roy, at Maitland, built the barque Linwood, 1195 tons, for his own account.
Yarmouth added but two large vessels to her local register in the two years 1888-89. One was the barque Nikaria, 1083 tons, built in 1888 for J. Y. Robbins and others. The other was the ship Jane Burrill, 1835 tons, built in 1889 for Burrill and Co. The Nikaria was lost in 1892, while bound from Carrizal to Hampton Roads with a cargo of manganese. The crew landed at Antofagasta, after being 6 days in the boats. I have no data on the Jane Burrill’s passages except one from San Francisco to Hull in 1891, which she made in 138 days under Captain W. D. Robertson, sailing from California in March, and her race with the Celeste Burrill to Australia already mentioned. The Jane Burrill was wrecked in 1899, while bound from Newcastle, N.S.W., to Manila with coal. The crew were landed at Cebu. During the two years, Yarmouth owners lost five large ships and two barques in addition to smaller craft.
One of the biggest Windsor ships was built in 1889, when the J. D. Everett, 1957 tons, was launched by J. Mosher at Avondale. She was owned in Nova Scotia for many years. A barquentine called the Antigua, 735 tons, was also built at Avondale by Mosher in 1889. Her last voyage was made in recent years, when she sailed from a Nova Scotia port to Bahia Blanca with dry spruce lumber. On the voyage south, she met rough weather, and took in so much water that the lumber swelled and started her deck beams. Nevertheless, in that loose condition, her skipper managed to fetch her up off Bahia safely and got his pilot aboard. There were signs of a “pampero” brewing, and the pilot was anxious to get the Antigua into port, but in his haste he piled her up on a bank. She was eventually hauled off, discharged her cargo, and was condemned and sold.
W. P. Cameron, at South Maitland, in 1889 built a four-masted barquentine called the Canadian, 1072 tons. She was galvanised iron- and copper-fastened, and I am inclined to think that she was the first of that rig to be constructed in the Maritime Provinces. In later years her name was changed to Ensenada, and she was afloat and owned in Sydney, N.S., in 1920.
They were fine ships, smart ships, clean, tall-sparred,
Clothed in snowy canvas to the lofty skys’l-yard,
Listing to the sea wind, wake a livid broil,
Cardiff coals to Rio, or Amsterdam with oil.
Guano from the Chinchas, hides from the Plate,
Or a load of barley from the Golden Gate,
Kerosene to Shanghai, iron from the Clyde,
All around the ports of the Seven Seas wide.
Timber droghers, grain ships, purely merchant-men,
British North Americans—gone beyond our ken.
Some fine ships were built in New Brunswick during the ’eighties, but the boom days of wooden square-riggers were past and the number of large vessels was falling off yearly. Nevertheless, in the early ’eighties St. John ranked fourth among the ports for the wooden sailing-ship tonnage registered there. But from that time the decline was rapid. New tonnage became less every year, and the old ships were being sold to foreigners or finding an end through the perils of the sea. New Brunswick ship-owners like the Thomsons, Troops, and Reeds were buying and building iron and steel ships abroad and operating them in world trades.
In 1880, Oliver Pittfield, of St. John, built the ship Armenia, 1055 tons, for Taylor Bros., of that port. Later, she was sold to the Italians. David Lynch built the barque Nellie Troop, 1098 tons, for the Troop fleet, and a barque of 768 tons, called the Richard Hutchison, built by C. C. Watt, Chatham, N.B., was also operated by the Troops. At Black River, J. and R. McLeod built the barque St. Julien, 1049 tons. She ended her days under the Russian flag, as also did the barque Parramatta, 894 tons, built at Gardiner’s Creek in 1880. Gaius S. Turner, at Harvey Bank, built the barque Latona, 948 tons, for George F. Smith, St. John. Smith also owned iron and steel ships later.
John Fraser, St. John, built the ship Loanda, 1600 tons, for Bennett Smith and others, in 1881. She was 200 feet keel, 39 feet 10 inches beam, and 24 feet 6 inches deep. John S. Parker, at Tynemouth Creek, built the barque Kate F. Troop, 1096 tons, for Troop and Son, and David Lynch built the barquentine Josie Troop, 1099 tons, for the same firm. This vessel was wrecked at Chicamacomico, North Carolina, in 1889, while bound from London to Philadelphia. Captain George W. Cook, of Yarmouth, N.S., master of the vessel, and ten of the crew were drowned. Wallace, at Gardiner’s Creek, built the barque Cambusdoon, 1108 tons. She ended under the Norwegian flag and was condemned in 1904. Oliver Pittfield, St. John, built the barque Austria, 1056 tons, of spruce and birch, copper- and galvanised iron-fastened. Henry O’Leary, at Richibucto, built the barque Charles Stewart Parnell, and J. and T. Jardine, Rexton, the barque Tacoma.
Some fine vessels were built in New Brunswick in 1882. John Fraser, at St. John, built the ship Honolulu, 1545 tons, for Wm. Thomson and Co. Stewart and Ritchie, St. John, built the ship Marabout, 1498 tons. When she first sailed the seas under Canadian ownership she crossed three skysail yards and carried lower, topmast, and topgallant studdingsails, sailor teasers beyond the ken of the modern seaman. She was ultimately sold to the Italians and renamed Trinita, and latterly Ticino. The skysail-yards and flying kites were taken off her then, and she was cut down to a barque, and as such she was afloat in 1916. David Lynch built the barque Mary A. Troop, 1118 tons, for the Troop fleet. She was abandoned at sea in March, 1904. Oliver Pittfield built the ship Arizona, 1032 tons. She was later cut down to a barque and owned by the Norwegians. At Kouchibouguac, George McLeod built a barque of 1000 tons called the Dunstaffnage. She was owned by the Swedes later. Jardines, at Richibucto, built the barque Sagona, 797 tons.
The Thomson ship Honolulu made some good passages in her early days. Her first voyage was from St. John to Liverpool, which she made in 17 days. Loading coal at Cardiff, she sailed to Cape Town in 65 days. From Cape Town she crossed to Madras in 45 days. From Madras to San Francisco her passage was 101 days, and from Frisco she made the run to Liverpool in 140 days.
John Fraser, at his Courtenay Bay yard, St. John, built the barque Honauwar, 1619 tons, in 1883, for his own account. J. K. Dunlop, at the same place, built the ship Wildwood, 1381 tons. She was in Norwegian hands in 1905, and apparently came back to Canada as a plaster barge in 1912. She was afloat in 1922. Turner, at Harvey Bank, built the ship Vandalia, 1373 tons. Oliver Emery, St. John, owned a barque called the Palestine, 1350 tons, built in 1883 at a cost of $60,000, which was wrecked near Lockeport, N.S., in 1885. At Kingston, a barque called the Ossuna, 778 tons, was built for Ritchie Bros.
In 1883, David Lynch built the barque Highlands, 1234 tons, for St. John parties. The photograph of this vessel reproduced in this volume shows her in the marine slip at Tacoma or some other West Coast port. The Highlands made some good passages in her time, notably one in 1884, when she arrived at Antwerp on July 12th, after a passage of 79 days from Melbourne or Geelong. The Highlands was a spruce and mixed wood ship, 199 × 38 × 22.8 feet, and on the passage mentioned was commanded by Captain Owen.
The barque L. H. De Veber, 615 tons, built at Bear River, N.S., in 1871, for J. S. De Veber, St. John, and later owned by the Thomson Co., made a fine passage in 1883. Under Captain McDonald, she left Cartagena, Spain, on April 4th, and arrived at North Sydney, N.S., on April 24th, making the run in the fast time of 20 days. The passage from Gibraltar to Sydney was done in 12 days, an exceptional trip for a vessel 12 years old. In July, 1884, the De Veber struck on Lurcher Shoal, Bay of Fundy, and was condemned in Yarmouth, N.S.
My records show but very few large square-riggers built in New Brunswick during the period from 1883 to 1890. The story of the big wooden windjammer is pretty well drawing to a close as far as New Brunswick is concerned, though Nova Scotia still managed to keep them going. The tonnage of New Brunswick ships built in 1880 was less than half that of those constructed in Nova Scotia. But when New Brunswick discontinued building big ships of wood, her ship-owners still carried on with iron and steel vessels built elsewhere.
I will record a few of the larger vessels built during the remaining period of the decade. In 1884, Stewart and Ritchie, St. John, built the ship Canara, 1545 tons. She was a very fine vessel built of oak, yellow pine, birch, and spruce, and classed for 14 years, the highest ever attained by B.N.A. wooden ships. She was afloat in 1916. Pittfield built the ship Albania, 1438 tons. She was Russian owned later. John Fraser built the barque Levuka, 1351 tons. She was registered in Windsor in 1905. In 1886, J. and R. Wallace, Gardiner’s Creek, built the barque Landskrona, 1313 tons, a photo of which is reproduced in this volume. She was owned in Windsor, N.S., by C. H. Bass. A barque of 1154 tons, called the Abyssinia, was built in 1885 by Pittfield, and was afloat under the Italian flag as the Gulli in 1920. In 1884, Jardine Bros., Richibucto, built the barque Valona, 800 tons, for their own account. In 1885, Captain John McLeod at Black River built the ship John McLeod, 1600 tons. She was operated by the Troops of St. John until the mid ’nineties.
During the period of 63 years from 1825 to 1888 there were 5880 vessels, aggregating 2,199,245 tons, built in New Brunswick. In 1888, there were 2000 men employed in ship-building and allied trades in St. John, but the business was dying off then.
The ’eighties saw the end of building square-riggers in Quebec. There was nothing there to keep the industry alive. Quebec ships were nearly all built for sale, and nobody was buying wooden ships when they could get iron or steel ships practically as cheap. Ross and Co. and one or two other ship-owners managed to keep a few Quebec-built ships going, but the Quebeckers were not a shipping or seafaring people, as were the Nova Scotians and New Brunswickers. The square timber trade was declining also. The building of vessels for this trade, which was a speciality with Quebec shipwrights, fell away. Nobody wanted new ships for carrying timber in the ’eighties, when half the world’s ship-owners were selling their wooden sailing vessels and going in for steel sailers or steam tramps. All the old crocks of windjammers were engaged in the timber droghing—it was the only trade they were fit for. In the ’eighties, Lord Brassey reported that the state of the wooden ships in the Canadian timber trade was deplorable. In Quebec, almost all ships loading timber had windmill pumps working continuously and discharging a stream of water. And so many of these old packets were bought and owned by those modern Vikings, the Norwegians, that, among sailormen, the windmill pump became facetiously known as the “Scandahoovian house-flag.”
The number of square-rigged ships of over 500 tons built at Quebec from 1880 to 1887 is less than 20. In 1880, P. Valin built the fine ship Parisian, 1384 tons. This ship, commanded by Captain Rheaume, was lost with all hands while on a passage to San Francisco. Wm. Charland built the ship Lauderdale, 1259 tons, and the barque Braidwood, 890 tons. The latter was a hard wood craft, and was afloat 25 years afterwards as the Norwegian Gudrun. Other Quebec ships of 1880 were the barques Lancashire, 1158 tons, and Emblem, 1151 tons.
In 1881, Henry Dinning built the ship Pride of England, 1350 tons. She was apparently the only large craft of that year. In 1882, three ships were built—two by Wm. Charland, the Edmonton, 1297 tons, and the Brandon, 1249 tons, and E. Samson built the Winnipeg, 1303 tons. In 1883, Charland built the ship Udrely, 1301 tons, and the Edinburgh, 1290 tons. The latter vessel was a barque built of oak, hackmatack and elm, and in 1905 she was under the Italian flag. In 1885, Charland built the ship Cheshire, 1307 tons, and E. Samson the barque Cambria, 1252 tons. The Norwegians had the latter in 1905.
In 1887, James Gibb Ross, Quebec, owned the famous old composite-built China tea clipper Wylo. The Ross fleet this year consisted of the following Quebec-built craft: barque Cosmo, 1220 tons—“the finest built in Quebec”; ship Mohawk, 1338 tons, built by Gingras in 1878; barque Tanjore, 933 tons, built by Charland in 1887; barque Verona, 649 tons, built by McKay and Warner in 1870.
In 1887, George T. Davie, at Levis, built the ship Titanic, 1405 tons. She was the last full-rigged ship built at Quebec, and her launch put a full stop to the long line of splendid ships that preceded her for almost 225 years. All the old ship-builders had gone when the Titanic was sent down the ways; their yards were built over with warehouses and docks or used for storing timber, and the great army of shipyard workers were scattered also. Ship-building was still carried on in a minor way, but it was confined to small barquentines, schooners, barges, tug-boats, and such-like small fry.
I have not been able to pick out many fast passages by Quebec ships, but a few have been cited here and there in this record. There were many quick-steppers, but it is difficult to authenticate the runs they are alleged to have made. A little barque called the Ocean Nymphe, 309 tons, on her first voyage in 1862, made the passage from Quebec to Liverpool in 15 days and a few hours. A barque of 794 tons, the Eleutheria, made the same trip in 16 days in 1862. The barque Farewell, of Quebec, commanded by Captain Cote, arrived at Buenos Ayres on January 24th, 1881, after a passage of 60 days from the Father Point Pilot Station, River St. Lawrence.
I have but two fair-sized vessels on my lists, and both were built in 1884. J. Lefurgey, at Summerside, P.E.I., built the barque Charles E. Lefurgey, 936 tons. She was constructed of spruce, birch, and hard pine, and was galvanised iron- and copper-fastened. She was on the Canadian Register in 1912. Wm. Richards, at Bideford, built the barque Auriga, 887 tons. She was of similar construction, and was afloat in 1905.
They are my country’s line, her great art done
By strong brains labouring on the thought unwon,
They mark our passage as a race of men,
Earth will not see such ships as those again.
“Ships,” by John Masefield.
The building and operating of square-rigged ships continued in Nova Scotia throughout the ’nineties, but it declined absolutely at the end of the decade. Nova Scotian owners were selling their ships rapidly, especially the older vessels. Just as soon as a ship was due for reclassing, owners became anxious, and should the surveyors demand extensive repairs and overhauls, the ship was put up for sale. The Norwegians proved ready buyers, and the bulk of the B.N.A. ships went under their flag.
But it was during this period of uncertainty for the future of wooden sailing ships that some of the finest vessels were built as well as some of the largest.
In 1890, C. Rufus Burgess, at Kingsport, N.S., had the four-masted barque King’s County built for him by E. Cox. She measured 255 × 45·5 × 25·7 feet, and her registered tonnage was 2061 tons, and her gross, 2240 tons. She had two decks and beams laid for a third, and she was built of spruce, hard pine, oak, and hackmatack, copper-fastened up to above the water-line and galvanised iron-fastened elsewhere. The surveyors classed her A.1. for 14 years. She was square-rigged on the fore-, main-, and mizzen-masts, and fore-and-aft rigged on the jigger or fourth mast. The King’s County and the James M. Blaikie were the only four-mast barques built in the Maritime Provinces.
None of the old-timers who remember her could recall that she was anything of a sailer, and it is said that she made no money for her owner. She tramped the seas until 1911, when she had two mishaps—stranding in Havana Harbour and losing her masts in the South Atlantic. I believe she was condemned in Barbados shortly after that.
Yarmouth added the ship J. Y. Robbins, 1708 tons, to her register in 1890. She was owned by J. Y. Robbins and others of Yarmouth. In 1893, while bound from Hakodate, Japan, to New York, she ran ashore near the former place and became a total wreck. She was the last wooden full-rigged ship built for the Yarmouth fleet.
Also built in 1890 was the barque Catherine, 798 tons, for W. D. Lovitt and others. While bound from Pensacola to Rio in 1893, the Catherine was abandoned in a sinking condition. The crew were saved and the wreck was afterwards picked up by a steamer and towed into St. Vincent, Cape Verde Islands, where it was sold for £1000 and dismantled. A barquentine, the Vanveen, 542 tons, was also built in 1890 for Geo. H. Lovitt. She was burned at sea in 1892. Another barquentine, the Toboggan, 676 tons, was built in 1890 for H. B. Cann and others. She was well named and must have slipped along like a toboggan, for it is recorded that she arrived at New York from Monte Video on July 30th, 1891, after a very fast passage of 38 days in command of Captain Parker. She was wrecked on the coast of Cuba in 1892. It will be noted that disaster befell every Yarmouth vessel mentioned within three years of launching. In 1890, Blackader, Meteghen, built the barque Mary A. Law, 890 tons, for Yarmouth owners. She was afloat in 1905.
In 1890, Adam McDougall, at South Maitland, built the barque Calburga, 1406 tons. She was a spruce-built vessel, iron- and copper-fastened, and measured 210 × 39·2 × 23·2 feet. In her latter days, she was owned by Thomas Douglas, and Captain Jonathan Douglas was master of her then.
The Calburga was destined to outlive all the other Bluenose square-riggers, and I recall being in a schooner and lying alongside her in Digby, N.S., in 1913. She was loading deals for Buenos Ayres, and I had a good look over the old packet. The photo of her in this volume was taken at the time. She was somewhat aged then and had a windmill pump installed to keep her free of the water that seeped in through her planking. But she made several trips to the Plate with lumber, and in 1914, under Captain Lewis, went from Digby to Buenos Ayres in 57 days.
When the Great War came, and with it the feverish demand for tonnage of any kind, the Calburga was loaded with deals in Halifax and sent across to Great Britain. I understand that she made the passage and landed her cargo, and returned and made another trip. On this voyage, she met heavy weather and simply went all to pieces, eventually foundering off the Irish coast. When she went, the last of the big Bluenose windjammers went also, for she was the only Canadian-built square-rigger of large tonnage left that was still registered in Canada.
Adam McDougall also built the barque Strathisla, 1280 tons, at Maitland, in 1890. She was owned by Hon. Alfred Putnam, M.P.P. Thos. A. Mosher, at Avondale, built the barquentine Albertina, 654 tons. She was wrecked in 1904. Mosher also built the barquentine St. Croix, 653 tons. In 1912, she was sold to the Danes. At River John, A. McKenzie built the little barque Argentina, 583 tons.
The year 1891 was the “last kick” in Nova Scotia ship-building. In July of this year, C. R. Burgess, from the Kingsport yard, launched the ship Canada, 2030 tons. She measured 257 × 45 × 24·7 feet, and was built of spruce, hard pine, and oak, copper- and galvanised iron-fastened, and had two decks and beams laid for a third. Lloyd’s classed her A.1. for 14 years, and she was rated as a very fine ship. She had double topgallant and three skysail-yards and could carry 3600 tons dead-weight cargo.
She was a cargo carrier, but had good lines and could sail when conditions were favourable. In command of Captain Munro, she left Rio on December 29th, 1894, for Sydney, N.S.W., and arrived there on February 22nd, 1895, making the passage in 54 days. Leaving Sydney on April 4th, 1895, she arrived at Liverpool on July 1st, after a passage of 86 days. In 1897, she made a number of voyages between Norfolk, Va., and Rio. I have followed her career for a number of years, but found only ordinary passages.
She was dismasted one time off the Australian coast and had to put into an Australian port to refit. While there, she had iron lower masts installed. As a financial proposition, it is said that the Canada made no money, and later she was cut down and made into a barge for the purpose of carrying plaster rock between Minas Basin and New York. In August, 1922, I boarded the old packet while she lay to an anchor in the Lower Bay of New York. There was very little of her original form left save her hull. The six-foot bulwarks had been cut down to a low rail; the main deck was all hatches; the forward house was removed, and a donkey-boiler and engine were installed at the break of the fo’c’sle. The figurehead of a woman which once crowned her bows was gone and part of the poop was cut off. The after-part of her cabin was still intact, with the various berths and the mess-room, and I was particularly struck with the loftiness of the apartment. But there was little remaining about her to recall the big Bluenose three skysail-yarder. The two iron lower-masts of the fore and main, now equipped with fore and aft sails, the fly-wheel pump at the foot of the mainmast, two capstans, and the huge anchor with the wooden stock are about all that is left of her original gear. In a year or two, at the most, the Canada will go the way of all the old wooden wind-wagons.
In 1891, the Spencer’s Island Co., at Spencer’s Island, built the fine ship Glooscap, 1734 tons—Glooscap being the name of a powerful chief in Micmac Indian mythology. The Glooscap was a two-deck ship of spruce and hard pine, copper- and galvanised iron-fastened, and measured 238·1 × 42·9 × 23·9 feet. She was registered at Parrsboro’ and commanded during the earlier part of her career by Captain George D. Spicer.
After making the usual voyage across to Europe, the Glooscap loaded coal at Cardiff for Cape Town. Leaving Cardiff on December 18th, 1891, she arrived at Cape Town 52 days afterwards. From Cape Town—leaving there on March 8th—she went to Valparaiso in 64 days, and on that passage she averaged 10 knots for three weeks. She went up to Taltal and loaded nitrate for New York, making the passage in 74 days. The run from Cape Horn to New York was made in 50 days.
In 1894, the Glooscap made the passage from New York to Sydney, Australia, in 93 days. On January 12th, 1895, she sailed from Iloilo for Halifax and arrived on April 29th, a passage of 106 days. Other passages made by her were: Singapore to Boston in 103 days and three voyages from New York to Melbourne, the longest being 104 days.
When it no longer paid to run her as a sailing ship, the Glooscap was cut down and converted into a plaster-rock barge like so many other Minas Basin ships. She was afloat in 1922.
W. P. Cameron, at South Maitland, built the ship Savona, 1649 tons. Adam Roy, at Maitland, built the ship Norwood, 1597 tons. Osmond O’Brien, at Noel, built the barque E. A. O’Brien, 1038 tons. J. B. North, at Horton, built the barquentines Lovisa, 939 tons, and Luarca, 632 tons. At Kempt, H. H. Greene built the barquentine Trinidad, 636 tons.
At River John, C. McLennan built the barque Gazelle, 999 tons. She was under Russian colours in 1905. Yarmouth owners added two fine steel ships to their fleet—the William Law, 1631 tons, and the barque Belmont, 1415 tons. Both were built in Great Britain. Two barquentines, the Baldwin, 561 tons, and the Madeleine, 498 tons, were also added to the Yarmouth fleet in 1891.
The building of large square-riggers in Nova Scotia stopped in the middle ’nineties. Ship-building was still carried on, but it was confined to barquentines and schooners of small tonnage. The last ships and barques were: barque Strathearn, 1272 tons, built in 1893 by Jos. Monteith, Maitland, for Alfred Putnam of that place; barque Launberga, 1215 tons, built in 1893 by A. McDougall at South Maitland, for Fulton McDougall; barque Stranger, 540 tons, built in 1893 by Thos. A. Wilson at Bridgewater, N.S., for himself. In 1896 and 1897, F. R. Eaton, at Parrsboro’, built two small barques Calcium, 687 tons, and Alkaline, 625 tons. If memory serves me right, they were engaged in freighting cryolite from Greenland to Philadelphia for many years. The Alkaline stranded on South Greenland in April, 1911, and became a total wreck.
All the other craft I have listed are barquentines. In 1892, E. Cox, at Kingsport, built the Golden Rod, 632 tons; Alpheus Marshall, at Bear River, built the Sunny South, 542 tons, for Howard D. Troop, St. John, N.B. In 1893, Cox, at Kingsport, built the Skoda, 658 tons. At Port Greville, N.S., the barquentine Louvima was built in 1896. Her name was a composite of Queen Victoria’s daughters—Louisa, Victoria and Maud. In 1897, Captain Hatfield in command, the Louvima sailed from Monte Video on April 14th and arrived at New York on May 24th—Queen Victoria’s birthday—after a fast passage of 40 days.
In 1899, Yarmouth owners built a four-masted barquentine of 545 tons called the Reform. In 1900, a barque of 690 tons, the Brookside, was added to the Yarmouth fleet. She was built elsewhere. Two barquentines, the Lakeside, 726 tons, and F. B. Lovitt, 554 tons, were built for Yarmouth owners. These vessels were handy little freighters for the West Indian and River Plate trade.
The last large ship built in New Brunswick was the John McLeod, 1600 tons, built in 1885 by Captain John McLeod, M.P.P., at Black River. Among the other craft built in the ’nineties, I have noted the following: barque Curler, 808 tons, built in 1890 by Joseph K. Dunlop, at St. John. She was wrecked on Grand Manan shortly after building. Barque Alert, 576 tons, built 1890 by G. S. Turner, Harvey, N.B.; barque Alexander Black, 575 tons, built 1891, by the same party. She was abandoned at sea. In 1893, the barque Westmoreland, 697 tons, was built at Harvey, and in 1903, what I believe was the last barque to be built in Canada, the Edna M. Smith, 736 tons, was launched at Harvey also.
Though the building of ships for deep-water trades stopped in Canada in the ’nineties, Canadians owned and operated their fleets for a considerable period after the decline of the wooden square-rigger. Thus, in 1900, we find that William Thomson and Co., St. John, owned and managed a fleet of 14 ships and barques of large tonnage. Three of these were steel sailers built in Great Britain, but the others were all New Brunswick and Nova Scotia built. Other ships and barques were also owned in New Brunswick at that time.
The last partly square-rigged vessel to be built in Quebec was the barquentine White Wings, 430 tons, built in 1893 by Wm. Charland at Lauzon. From 1797 to 1896, there were 2542 ships built at Quebec, with an aggregate tonnage of 1,377,099 tons.
In this year of grace, 1924, one can refer to the era reviewed in this volume as being a time when “they built great ships, and sailed them.” I doubt if there is a single Canadian-built square-rigger afloat to-day with her yards across. Coal hulks and barges there may be, still water-borne, but there cannot be many.
During the ’nineties, Canadian ship-owners got rid of their large vessels as quickly as they could. There was no longer any money to be gained in operating such craft. As a result of the rapid decline and the yearly dwindling fleet, a large number of Nova Scotian and New Brunswick masters and mates were left without ships. Many of the younger men went into steam, entering the services of such concerns as the W. R. Grace Co., and the United Fruit Company, as well as other British and American lines. The older men, who knew nothing but square-rig sailing, and who did not fancy beginning in steam as junior officers, retired to the farms which many of them owned and became farmers. Others took command of British sailing ships and enhaloed them with the Bluenose reputation. “She’s a Liverpool ship,” sailors would remark, “but there’s a hard nut of a Nova Scotia skipper in command of her, so look up and stand from under, my son!”
Ship-building did not die away altogether in the Maritime Provinces of Canada. The building of small schooners still continues, but this work is a mere fraction of the industry of the old days. During the Great War there was a revival, and many of the old yards saw the construction of large schooners and steamship hulls. A few ancient shipwrights came out from retirement at that time to show the new generation how to build large hulls, and some of them thought that the former days were coming back. But the end of the war knocked the revived ship-building as dead as the proverbial door nail.
It was also thought that Canada could build steel sailing ships. Efforts were made to establish such an industry at Quebec, Yarmouth, St. John, Halifax, and other places, but it came to nought. The only steel sailer built in the country was the three-masted schooner James William, constructed at New Glasgow for J. W. Carmichael. Steel steamship-building in Canada became an established industry—principally upon the Great Lakes—while the Great War caused the opening up of yards on both the Atlantic and Pacific coasts. Steel steamers of large tonnage were constructed at these places, but there is nothing to indicate at present that such ship-building will ever attain the importance and prominence of the old days of wooden hulls.
The only survival of the old régime is to be found in the fleet of smart three- and four-masted schooners which hail from the east coast ports of Canada. These vessels will be seen in both the North and South Atlantic, but seldom elsewhere. Deals, coal, dried fish, salt, and molasses constitute their principal cargoes, and the American and West Indian trade their principal sphere of operations. But the old spirit lives in these craft, with their white-painted deck-houses and rails, well-scraped spars, varnished bright wood, and generally well-kept appearances, for the present-day skippers and mates have inherited the passion for smartness and cleanliness which obsessed the square-rig men of other days.
The famous Bluenose skipper and mate are no longer to be found afloat, and, in fact, there are not many to be found still living. Here and there, in quiet little Maritime Province towns and villages, one will run across old gentlemen who formerly commanded big square-rigged ships. But that part of their life is a closed chapter, and they seldom refer to it, for the simple reason that there are but few kindred spirits to whom they can talk. Occasionally, three or four of these old-timers will get together at a village store, or at a meeting, and reminiscences of the palmy days will be exchanged. But the youngsters do not sit and listen to this ancient salt-water-gossip. It is something beyond their ken, and they are not interested in old sailors’ talk. The feet of the modern young men of the Maritime Provinces are set on paths which lead away from the sea. Only in the fishermen of the Banks will one find the spirit of daring and the hardihood which animated the deep-water seamen of other days.
The big British North American full-rigged ship, with her shining black hull, her built lower-masts, her white-painted deck-houses and spotless decks, her tall, well-scraped spars, three skysail-yards and well-cut sails, is but a memory, and, like an old sailorman sitting in the sun and musing over the past, we might echo his feelings when he says:—
“I can’t help feelin’ lonesome for the old ships that have gone,
For the sight o’ tropic sunsets and the hour before the dawn,
And the white sails pullin’ stoutly to a warm and steady draft,
And the smell o’ roastin’ coffee, and the watches must’rin’ aft.
“I’d like to ship offshore again upon some Bluenose barque,
And shout a sailor chantey in the windy, starry dark,
Or fist a clewed-up tops’l in a black south-easter’s roar,
But it ain’t no use a-wishin’, for them days will come no more.”
THE ARRIVAL OF THE “COLUMBUS” IN LONDON
(Detailed particulars of the great Quebec-built timber ship)
The London Times of November, 1824, printed the following description of the Quebec-built timber ship Columbus:—
The vaunted Colossus of the deep is at length accessible to the investigation of the curious, however timid they may be, and the lovers of sight-seeing may gratify their whim and fantasy without encountering a heavy sea, a fearful lee-shore, or blue-water banyan days. Thanks to branch pilots, steamboats, warps and the capstan, the Columbus is now off Folly House, in Blackwall Reach, where she is likely to be easy in her berth without moorings or even a kedge. Her arrival has excited so much interest and conversation that, though we have already given her dimensions, the nature and quantity of her cargo, and some account of her appearance, we are induced to recur to the subject and speak from “occular demonstration.” The Columbus is of the following dimensions: Length of keel, 294 feet; length of deck, 301 feet; breadth of beam, 51 feet 4½ inches; depth of hold, 29 feet 4½ inches; from the top of her bulwarks to the bottom, outside, 37 feet; tonnage, 3690 tons; mainmast above deck, 72 feet; best bower cable, 27 inches; anchor, 80 cwt., 2 qrs., 17 lbs. She is of perfectly flat bottom, with a keel of about 12 inches, wall sided, sharp forward, and rather lean aft. Her cargo capacity is 6300 tons.
This Columbus is exceedingly deceitful in her appearance, especially when she is seen end on; she scarcely looks half her size. She is like a wedge forward, has no cutwater, is wall sided, carries her beam, we should imagine, to abaft the second mainmast, for she has four masts and has a square tuck. Her run is very gradual, and from her length she looks extremely lean. She sits low in the water. A tolerable-sized light West Indiaman, or a thirty-eight-gun frigate in cruising trim, appear almost as lofty in the hull when you are alongside.
At a broadside view from a distance, the Columbus looks a tremendous length and, though seemingly hogged or broken-backed and very much under-rigged, there is something sneaking and dangerous in her show. As you approach her, however, she looks as she is—an immense mass of timber knocked together for the purposes of commerce, without any regard to beauty and little attention to the principles of naval architecture. She has two sets of beams; the upper ones, which sustain the deck, project through the sides. She has also an inner frame, for the better security of her cargo—to prevent any starting of the timber.
Her blocks were laid in October, 1823; she is perfectly flat-bottomed, and her shell was completed before a plank of her cargo was stowed. Previous to her being launched, however, 4000 tons of timber were run on board by horses, through the bow and stern ports, and she drew about thirteen feet when she first sat on the water. Unlike large ships, her galley and bitts are above deck; and between the foremast and the first mainmast there is a fore hatchway and a cable tier and messing place for part of the crew, which look like a rude gap made in her cargo after it had been stowed. The height from the timber on which the cable is coiled, and where the men have two or three berths, is about 6 feet; so that there must be even there about 30 feet deep of timber. But from the first mainmast to the second, the cargo runs from deck to keelson. And abaft the latter mast, close to the wheel, where the binnacles stand, is a place for the accommodation of the officers and the rest of the crew. The provisions, we believe, are stowed abaft the try-sail mast. Her rudder is hung like that of any other ship, but its head comes above the taffrail, and the tiller is above deck.
A great deal of the timber she has on board was, we understand, fresh hewn—it now looks extremely wet—it is principally red pine, and, like most Canadian timber, it runs large and long. The rigging of the Columbus was naturally a minor consideration with her owners, and, though it has answered the purposes for which it was intended, it presents nothing worthy of commendation to the eye of a seaman, and nothing striking to that of a landman. The masts are ill-proportioned for beauty, and injudiciously placed so far as the labour of the crew is concerned. The lower masts are too taunt—there is too much of them above deck, and this necessarily gives the courses a tremendous drop. One of the crew, an intelligent, sailor-like man, said the foresail had 50 feet leach. The bowsprit and jib-boom are but one spar; they steeve little, and the hoist of the jibs is consequently great. The topmasts and topgallant-masts are also in one. They are exceedingly short, and a royal can only be set on one of the mainmasts. She is not more square-rigged than she is taunt; her foreyards do not measure more than 70 feet. The only studdingsails she carried were topmast ones on the first mainmast. Her topmast rigging is rove through holes in the cross trees, and is set up with lanyard to a grummat round the lower mast. There are, therefore, no cat-harpings, and the rest of the rigging is of the same temporary speculative description. Her hemp cable measures 26 inches in circumference, and the chain is in proportion. She crossed the Atlantic with a single bower anchor, and a kedge of about 7 cwt. It is said she worked easily and surely; that she was perfectly under the government of her rudder; that she was, in general, steered with facility by a man and a boy; that she went from nine to ten knots when sailing free, and that at six points and a half from the wind she went six knots, and made but little leeway. In a seaway she was, of course, heavy, and shipped much water, as she could not rise, from her great length and want of beam. In fact, she could have been but as a log of wood in a short chopping sea, one of which might have broken over midships almost without anybody forward or aft knowing of the circumstances. We are, however, rather sceptical as to whether we should conclude that she is actually possessed of all the good qualities attributed to her. We cannot believe that she ever sailed at six points and a half, or even at seven points from the wind, or that she ever went nine or ten miles an hour. We do not think that a square sail in her would stand at six points and a half, and she has no buttock for running. On the whole, however, she is an extraordinary piece of workmanship; and, though vastly inferior to a first-, second-, third- or fourth-rate man-of-war in beauty and capacity, the Columbus is well worth visiting. We think, however, that a bear and swab, if not a holystone, would improve the appearance of the deck extremely.
The Columbus left Quebec on September 5th, 1824, but four days later went ashore on the north side of the St. Lawrence at Bersimis and was ashore for three days, during which a considerable quantity of timber, deals and staves were thrown overboard. Resuming her voyage on the 12th, she encountered severe weather from the very moment of leaving the shelter of the Gulf, and it was not until October 29th that she made the Scilly Light. For a week before making land the pumps had to be kept going continually, to the great exhaustion of the crew, who were only 96 in number. To encourage them to maintain this harassing labour, a guinea extra upon the wages of each man was promised, and it is believed that but for that inducement the Columbus would never have reached her destination. During the voyage the leak gained from 8 to 11 feet of water, and when she reached the Thames there was no less than 18 feet of water in the hold. She reached the Downs on November 1st and was afterwards towed up to Blackwall by tugs.
Some queer names were given to Canadian vessels in the old days. In 1852, Antoine St. Jean, Quebec, built a ship of 1121 tons called the Banker’s Daughter. In 1855, a schooner of 60 tons was built at St. John and christened Go-ask-her. In 1877, a schooner of 22 tons was built at Yarmouth and named Essence of Peppermint.
A contemporary newspaper states that the Beejapore was built by W. and R. Wright, St. John, expressly for the East India trade. She was named after the big gun captured by the British from the Sikhs, and which was supposed to be the largest in the world at that time. The Beejapore was commanded on her first voyage to Liverpool by Captain Richard Wright, one of her builders. In a Liverpool paper of 1851, she was highly commended as being a fine ship of good construction and model, “and in point of sailing and carrying qualities will stand a favourable comparison with the celebrated American ship Typhoon.”
This American ship arrived in Liverpool earlier in the year, and made the passage from Portsmouth, N.H., to Liverpool in 13 days, 10 hours, dock to dock. The Typhoon was a clipper of 1600 tons, owned in New York, and afterwards celebrated in the California trade. It would be interesting to know the Beejapore’s later history in view of the comparison.
In May, 1851, the ship Eagle was launched from the yard of John McDonald, Courtenay Bay, St. John. She was a first-class ship of 1000 tons, built by contract for the Eagle Line of Australian Packets operated by Gibbs, Bright and Co., Liverpool. A contemporary St. John newspaper account states: “Her cabins, which extend from stern to forecastle, are finished in a chaste style in mahogany and walnut by Messrs. Sulis and Son. The beautiful model of this fine ship and the superior manner in which she was built and fastened is a credit to John McDonald.”
Lubbock tells us in his Colonial Clippers that the Eagle made the quickest passage from Melbourne ever known up to November, 1852, when she arrived in the Downs 78 days out from Port Phillip Heads. On this trip she carried 150,000 ounces of gold, and her sailors were paid from £50 to £60 per man for the run home. In 1853, she made a passage from Liverpool to Melbourne in 80 days.
Henry Eckford and Donald McKay, the two leading wooden sailing-ship builders in the United States, were formerly Canadians.
Henry Eckford, characterised as the “father of naval architecture in America,” was born in Irvine, Scotland, March 12, 1775. When sixteen years old, he emigrated to British North America and settled at Quebec with his uncle, John Black, who, with his partner, John S. Campbell, operated a shipyard at Cape Cove, Quebec. In this yard, the steamship Royal William was built in 1831.
Young Eckford worked in his uncle’s shipyard for five years, and in 1796, when he came of age, he moved to New York, “where his skill in designing soon got him employment.” Prior to Eckford’s time, large vessels were usually built from drawn plans. Eckford was one of the first to build from the wooden model. In his vessels, the principle of increased length, long, flat floors and short turned bilges was first laid down, and his designs were soon regarded in the United States as being the best for carrying cargoes and for speed. Eckford’s encouragement in the beginning and his designs in the end, said the Hon. John McLeod Murphy in a pamphlet on American ship-building, published in 1860, were responsible for the Savannah’s attempt to cross the ocean by steam in 1819.
Says the foregoing authority: “Eckford was the founder of that school of naval architecture which is now (1860) recognised as purely American, and from the teachings of which all our ship-builders have so abundantly profited.”
Eckford opened his shipyard in New York in 1802. There he launched John Jacob Astor’s famous ship Beaver, 427 tons, in 1803. This vessel was engaged in the East Indian and China trade, and once made a passage of 75 days from Canton to Bermuda. So well built was she that after 40 years’ service her live-oak frame was used in the construction of another vessel. During the war of 1812, Eckford did great service for his adopted country in the building of war vessels. Two of his apprentices, Isaac Webb and Stephen Smith, became famous American ship-builders. He went to Constantinople to build vessels for the Turkish Navy, and died there in November, 1832. His body was brought back to the United States in the barque Henry Eckford, and his remains were interred at Hempstead, Long Island, N.Y.
The name of Donald McKay will ever remain identified with the glorious age of the American-built clipper ship. He designed and built more wooden clippers than any other constructer, and almost every vessel he fashioned made a name for herself. Donald McKay was born at Jordan River, near Shelburne, Nova Scotia, on September 10th, 1810. He was the second child of a large family. In his youth, he engaged in ship-building at Jordan, but the allurements of the prosperous United States caused him to leave his native land for New York, where he worked as a shipwright. As a foreman shipwright, he worked for John Currier at Newburyport, Mass., and in 1841, became a partner in the firm. The ship Courier, 380 tons, was the first vessel designed by McKay, and her rapid passages in the Brazilian coffee trade brought him the favourable notice of shipping men. In 1834, he went into partnership with a Mr. Pickett at Newburyport and built several packet ships.
Enoch Train, owner of a line of packets running between Boston and Liverpool, heard of McKay’s skill, and commissioned him to build a packet ship for his Liverpool line. This vessel, the Joshua Bates, was launched in 1845, and so pleased was Train with this ship that he induced McKay to go to Boston and open a shipyard. McKay was 34 years of age when he established his famous yard at East Boston, and there he built a number of splendid packet ships for Train, and ships and barques for other owners.
In 1846, McKay built a large ship of 1404 tons called the New World, but it was with the launch of the clipper ship Staghound, of 1535 tons, in 1850, that Donald McKay began the ship-building activities that made him famous. The Staghound was the largest merchant ship ever built up to then, and her first passage from New York to San Francisco was made in the good time of 107 days. In 1851, McKay built the famous clipper Flying Cloud, 1793 tons. Under the command of Captain Josiah Creesy, the Flying Cloud left New York on June 3rd, 1851, and arrived in San Francisco August 31st, 1851, making the passage in 89 days. This was the record up to that time, and it was only equalled three years later by the same ship and by the Andrew Jackson in 1860. The New York to San Francisco passage made by the Flying Cloud has never been surpassed by a sailing ship, and during this remarkable voyage the Flying Cloud made the splendid day’s run of 374 miles shortly after rounding the Horn.
Following the Flying Cloud, McKay launched a famous fleet of clippers, including the Sovereign of the Seas, 2421 tons, built in 1852. This magnificent clipper was commanded by McKay’s younger brother, Lauchlan. Like Donald, Lauchlan began life as a shipwright, serving as a carpenter in the U.S. Navy, and also as a ship-builder with another brother, Hugh McKay. Apparently, Lauchlan could build ships and sail them with equal skill, for in 1846 he was in command of a barque which he helped to construct. As master of the Sovereign of the Seas, he drove her around to San Francisco in 103 days, and that in spite of the fact that she was partially dismasted after rounding the Horn and 14 days were spent in re-rigging her. In this big clipper, Captain Lauchlan McKay made some remarkable runs, particulars of which are given in Captain Clark’s Clipper Ship Era.
In 1853, McKay launched the four-mast barque Great Republic, 4555 tons, and the largest extreme clipper ever built. The Great Republic was a marine sensation at the time of her launch and was built for the booming Australian trade. She had the misfortune, however, to be partially destroyed by fire while fitting out, and when she was afterwards rebuilt by another firm, she was materially altered, especially aloft, from McKay’s original. Her first voyage was to London, and she made the run from Sandy Hook to Land’s End in 13 days. She carried troops to the Crimea, and finally passed out of service as the barque Denmark in 1872.
In 1854, McKay built the splendid clipper ships Lightning, 2084 tons, Champion of the Seas, 2448 tons, and James Baines, 2515 tons, for James Baines’ Black Ball Line of Australian packets. The Lightning’s famous Atlantic passage, during which she established the record day’s run of 436 miles, has already been mentioned in this volume. The ship Donald McKay, 2598 tons, was also built for James Baines in 1855. Altogether, McKay designed and built 42 vessels, many of which brought him undying fame by reason of their swiftness and beauty.
Donald McKay passed away at his farm, Hamilton, Mass., in September 1880, aged 70 years. His bust is enshrined in the Louvre, his designs are the admiration of naval architects, but the story of the ships he built and their wonderful passages are golden pages in the history of shipping destined to live for all time. And though his triumphs were while under the flag of the great sister nation of the United States, yet Canadians have just cause for pride in the fact that he was a Nova Scotian born and bred, and ancestry and early environment implanted in his mind the clever craftsmanship which blossomed forth in the land of his adoption.
In 1817 there came to Pictou, N.S., the Rev. Norman McLeod with a following of co-religionists from Assynt, Scotland. McLeod was a man of pronounced views regarding religion, an exacting Presbyterian, and to his followers he was preacher, teacher, leader and patriarch. In 1819, he received a call from a settlement of Highlanders in Ohio to come and be their minister. He accepted the invitation, but being loath to abandon his attached followers in Pictou, he decided to take them with him. The problem of making the journey to Ohio was debated, and it was finally decided to go there by water via the Gulf of Mexico and the Mississippi River. Accordingly, and with characteristic energy, McLeod began the construction of a vessel large enough to carry the emigrants and their effects, and the keel of this craft was laid at Middle River Point, Pictou, in the summer of 1819. The people of Pictou regarded the project with derision, and nicknamed the vessel the “Ark.” The Ark was launched in the spring of 1820, and in May she took her passengers aboard and set sail for the Gulf of Mexico. After passing through the Straits of Canso, the Ark met a heavy S.W. gale, which drove her up the Cape Breton coast. A shift of wind sent the vessel into St. Ann’s Harbour, Cape Breton, and they dropped anchor there. Their experiences during the gale sickened the emigrants of the Ohio idea, and they decided to settle in St. Ann’s. Land was granted to Mr. McLeod, and a community sprung up around the minister’s residence at Black Cove.
McLeod remained ministering to his flock amidst the Cape Breton hills, working with them in their daily labours and ruling them with a rod of iron. In 1847, the minister received a letter from his son Donald, who had settled in Adelaide, Australia. Donald McLeod was a ship-master who had left St. Ann’s eight years before in charge of a vessel built there. He took the craft to Glasgow, sold her there, and after remitting the proceeds, dropped out of sight until news of him came in his letter. In this epistle, Donald told of the mild climate of Australia, the natural resources and wonderful opportunities awaiting settlers.
A failure of the potato crop inspired McLeod and his flock with the idea of making a shift to Australia. Though 70 years of age at the time, the minister caused the keel of a barque to be laid, and the work of building her was undertaken by the congregation. In 1851, the barque Margaret, 236 tons, was launched and rigged, and on October 28th, 1851, she sailed out of St. Ann’s Harbour bound for Adelaide, with the Rev. Mr. McLeod and 135 emigrants on board. A call was made at St. Jago, Cape Verde Islands, and also at Cape Town, for the replenishing of supplies. On April 10th, 1852, the Margaret arrived at Adelaide, after a voyage of 164 days.
South Australia proved a disappointment to the emigrants. It was not suitable for farming owing to the severe droughts, so in 1854, McLeod and his people migrated to New Zealand, and finally settled in the district of Waipu, where they found all that their hearts desired. Urgent calls to come out to New Zealand were sent to those who had remained in St. Ann’s, and in response to these invitations some 750 persons left Cape Breton and joined the Waipu colony, making the voyage to New Zealand in vessels built by themselves.
Norman McLeod passed away in the midst of his followers in March, 1866, aged 86 years. He was a man of great physical strength, strong mentally and spiritually, and he wielded a tremendous influence over his people. His name is greatly honoured in the Waipu settlement, and a splendid monument was erected in 1914 at Waipu to the memory of McLeod and those who followed him.
And in New Zealand the seafaring instinct that entered their blood through their sojourn in Nova Scotia inspired them to build sailing ships and boats and to engage in fishing and ocean trading, causing it to be said in after years “that Waipu sent out, for its size, more sea captains than any other community in New Zealand.”
The other vessels which participated in the migration were the Highland Lassie, Gertrude, Spray, Breadalbane and Ellen Lewis.
The ship Lalla, 1099 tons, built at Maccan, N.S., in 1874, and registered in Maitland and owned in Halifax, was a fine vessel, though not a fast sailer. She was a cargo trader pure and simple, and at one time was commanded by a master who took a great pride in keeping her spruce and clean. Like a good many Bluenose ships, she had a great deal of brass along her rails, and every Saturday morning the hands were set to work polishing it until it shone to dazzle the eyes. A former mate of the Lalla told me of how, after discharging a cargo of case oil in Japan, the crew were sent down into the hold and set to work scraping and scrubbing the ceiling, chipping and red-leading every bolthead and iron knee. “That hold was like the inside of a house,” he said, “and you could have eaten a dinner off the floors.” The Lalla carried a clean cargo back to New York—baled rags and bamboo—and when she discharged her freight, the stevedores vowed they never saw a hold so clean, while the owner remarked that she looked more like a yacht than a tramp windjammer.
“Coming home,” said my friend who was mate of her, “we ran short of paint, and the skipper stood in for St. Helena to get more. The wind was blowing fresh from the south-east, and he told me to get anchors ready. As we were already a pretty long time on the passage, I thought it was a pity to lose valuable time by stopping at St. Helena for the sake of a bit of paint, and I said to the captain: ‘We’ll be a long way from St. Helena by this time to-morrow if we stand on.’ The Old Man, however, thought more of the appearance of his ship than he did of the passage, and he had his mind made up. I then looked over what paint we had left in the locker and in the paint-pots, and I figured that by spinning it out very carefully we could give the ship one light coat over everything before going into New York. So I put it up to the skipper, and told him I’d have her spruce with what we had, and I finally got the Old Man to square away.”
The foregoing is given as an instance of the extraordinary pride the Bluenose ship-masters took in their vessels and the passion for cleanliness and smartness which animated the majority of them.
Mis-spelled words and printer errors have been corrected. Where multiple spellings occur, majority use has been employed.
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[The end of Wooden Ships and Iron Men by Frederick William Wallace]