BUILDING AN EAST INDIAMAN A REMINISCENCE OF 1856 _Build me straight, O worthy Master, Staunch and strong, a goodly vessel That shall laugh at all disaster, And with wave and whirlwind wrestle._ --Longfellow. The building of a wooden East Indiaman recalls much of what was romantic in the history of British shipping--much of what was essentially British in the art of the craftsman. The old shipwright with his black wooden toolbox slung over his shoulder, or plying his adze or the caulking iron, is a type of a British artisan unhappily now becoming extinct. He was no ordinary workman following day after day the same monotonous job, for his work called for the constant exercise of his own individuality, of his powers of observation, and his ingenuity in the application of the teachings of experience; the selection of suitable timber, of proper scantling, oak crooks for the floors, aprons and knees, the curved timber for the futtocks, all called for skill and knowledge, and he had to keep constantly in view, when building, the necessity for giving proper shifts to the scarfs and the butting of the planks--all demanding not only thought, but daily presenting new problems which only a trained eye and experience could solve. The rhythm of the old shipbuilding yard had a peculiar charm and attraction; it was not the monotonous deafening roar of the hydraulic riveter heard in the modern yard, but the music of the adze and the humming of the caulking chisel made a sort of harmony not unpleasant to the ear; while the all-prevailing smell of tar imported a nautical flavour which is entirely absent from the iron shipbuilding yard. We now only think in terms of angle iron, plates, butt straps, and rivets which follow one orthodox pattern. The iron ship is but a tank with shaped ends, or a girder, or a series of box girders, for every deck, and every row of pillaring constitutes a girder; their size and shape are all set out by the draftsman in the drawing office, the work in the yard is purely mechanical; the old skill of the craftsman is not called into play. It was my good fortune, when I left school in 1856, to spend some time in the shipbuilding yard of George Cox & Son, of Bideford, in order that I might obtain some knowledge of the craft. The firm were engaged building the "Bucton Castle," of 1,200 tons register, for the Calcutta trade, to class thirteen years A1, the highest class at Lloyd's. It is of my experience in building that ship of which I purpose writing.