But these tea-clippers needed proper handling, like sensitive horses, and required to be humoured. Those were the days when the love of ships by owners, captains and crews was something real, when clippers were treated like human beings and given everything they wanted; and their loss often meant the breaking of the owner’s heart. The personal relationship between the owner, his ship and captain was something very different from to-day. Before the advent of limited liability companies and telegraph cables, instructions were given personally by the owner, who would himself come down to see his ship start. In many cases the captains were financially interested in the ships, and it must be remembered that the best clipper-ship captains were hard to find. Remembering that an owner required neither a mere dare-devil nor one who merely played for safety, but a captain who would crack-on without losing ship or gear, and whilst getting the last ounce out of the ship would know instantly when to ease up, it is obvious that an ideal commander would be a mixture of courage, iron nerve, initiative, driving power, sound judgment based on experience, consummate seamanlike ability and great physical endurance. It was when such skippers got command of these lovely little ships that the tea was raced home in such splendid time. They had to watch their ships from hour to hour during the three months’ race from China to England, rarely going below, getting very little sleep, and the result was that many eventually broke down. But we must think of them as the keenest lot of captains who ever sailed the seas, and up to every dodge to get the ship home quicker than the other fellow. They looked for risks and accepted them freely, but they were not foolhardy, and they knew just how much their ships could stand. Backed up not by mutinous crews, as was often the case in the American clippers, but by thorough seamen, all British, a captain knew that he could rely on them to aid him in getting the most out of his ship; for they were not less keen than himself, and were betting against the other ships. It meant hard work, but no sailorman will ever grouse at this if he is in tune with the reason. They took a pride in their vessels and were jealous of a ship’s honour. Could the same be said nowadays of the crews of steamships? Sentiment in seafaring has a tremendous practical value if only it is appreciated and properly trained.