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
About this time the late Admiral Sir George Tryon, K.C.B., was
Commander-in-Chief on the Australian station, and his was a personality
to be remembered. He was good enough to treat me with a great amount of
consideration, and indeed went out of his way to encourage a growth of
good feeling between the Royal Navy and the Merchant Service. I saw a
good deal of him, and so far as I could discern he made no distinction
between me and one of his own captains. I think I may truly say that it
was mainly the intercourse with him which turned my mind to a study of
naval matters, and caused me to write the various papers I have on the
possibilities of war service by merchant steamers.
This was just after the Pendjeh war scare, when a Russian cruiser had
turned up most unexpectedly at Wellington. My ship had been taken by
Government, but for some reason was returned, and the _Coptic_ was
taken in her place. There was some little trouble in getting the crew
of that ship to take war risks, but having mustered my men and put
the question to them, they agreed to a man to do as I did. With that
assurance I went to call on the Governor to ask him to requisition my
ship, but for some reason unknown to me it was not done, much to my
disappointment.
They were a splendid lot of officers on board the flagship H.M.S.
_Nelson_, but a matter of thirty years makes a great clearance. It
is not so very long, however, since I met a man who reminded me of
an incident concerning a lot of them who, having been to a ball, had
come on board my ship to put up for the night, and wanted to know what
I could do to amuse them. I had then on board as guests two parsons,
one of whom was the Rev. Eliot Chambers, an old navy man himself, so I
replied that there were two parsons on board and they were at liberty
to draw them if they pleased. Chambers heard this, slipped out of bed
and bolted his door, but the other fellow was fetched out in scant
attire to join the general revelry, and a very pleasant time it was.
The flag captain was Atwell Lake, now an admiral, and he was a tireless
talker. One evening General Sir George Whitmore, who was commanding in
New Zealand, invited two members of the Government, Lake and myself, to
dine with him, and a very fine dinner he gave us too. But Sir George
was also a tireless talker, and I fancy that Lake went there prepared
to vanquish him at the game, for he started to talk at the commencement
of dinner, kept us all interested, and Sir George never got a word in
edgeways the whole of the time.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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