My Life at Sea: being a "yarn" loosely spun for the purpose of holding together certain reminiscences of the transition period from sail to steam in the British mercantile marine (1863-1894)Crutchley, William Caius
History
My Life at Sea: being a "yarn" loosely spun for the purpose of holding together certain reminiscences of the transition period from sail to steam in the British mercantile marine (1863-1894)
Crutchley, William Caius
Merchant marine -- Great Britain; Seafaring life
One day Wait was ordered to go north--and I to the _American_, then
Wait was ordered back to his old ship and I to the _Trojan_. This was
rather a fortunate thing for me, as on the passage out, when on the
line, the _American_ broke her screw shaft and sank. Fortunately all
hands were saved, to the infinite credit of her captain and officers.
Captain Hepworth, R.N.R., C.B., of the meteorological office, was then
chief officer, and my old friend Jones of the _Basuto_ was the second.
I came to hear of the accident in the following manner. I was in my
lodgings one afternoon when the office messenger, Fancourt, came in
with a face of great importance, “Captain Dixon’s compliments, and he
would like to see you at once.” Those who have known Fancourt will
realise the manner in which the message was delivered, for I really
believe he thought he ran the Company, in the same manner that the
limelight man dominates the stage. I went to the office of my chief,
who paid me a great compliment or else was pulling my leg. The table
was covered with charts, and he said, “The _American_ has sunk in lat.
---- long. ----. All hands saved in the boats. I want you to tell me
where we should look to find these boats, for I conclude you know more
about it than any of us.” As it happened I was wrong in my estimate,
for the boats were picked up by ships, but the currents, both the
Guinea and Equatorial, might have played a part in their destination.
Some of the passengers had a second shipwreck in the vessel that
picked them up and there were fatalities. I cannot quite remember how
the news first reached home, but several details stood out rather
prominently. One was that the theatre on the poop, where theatricals
had taken place the preceding evening, was conspicuous as she sank,
and also that the second officer had been seen getting the butcher’s
water-tank into his lifeboat. That was typical of Jones, essentially
a practical seaman. I asked him afterwards to tell me about it, and
whether he had any trouble at all. “When I got down in the boat,” he
said, “to get things in order I chucked out several bundles of things
that were no use and took up room, one of which belonged to the cook,
who resented my action. I just told him that if he said more I would
see that he followed his bundle, and there was no more trouble.” It has
always been a matter of congratulation to me that I escaped being in
that business. Captain Wait was very justly highly complimented for his
action, and his officers, too, received their meed of recognition.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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