Robert Duncan’s Six Beautiful Sister Ships.

In 1874 Patrick Henderson launched out by ordering six iron passenger clippers from Robert Duncan and two from Scott, of Greenock, and of the big fleet of splendid iron ships built in the seventies there were few more perfect specimens of the shipbuilders’ art than these eight ships. The following are the measurements of the Duncan ships:—

ShipDate
Launched		TonnageLengthBeamDepthLength
of Poop		Length
of
Foc’s’le
DunedinMarch1874125024136.120.97035
DunedinMarch1874125024136.120.97035
CanterburyMay18741245239.73620.87035
InvercargillJune18741246239.73620.77035
AucklandJuly18741245239.83620.77035
NelsonAug.18741247239.33620.77035
WellingtonSept.18741247239.83620.77035

“AKAROA.”

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“INVERCARGILL,” off Tairoa Heads.

Lent by F. G. Layton.

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All these ships, with the exception of Dunedin, which went missing when homeward bound with frozen meat in 1889, were sailing the seas in the twentieth century, and until Shaw, Savill sold them in 1904-5 were still making good passages. Even after they had ceased to carry emigrants, their outward passages were constantly under 80 days; and the frozen mutton did not affect their homeward runs as much as one would expect, for I find the Nelson running from Wellington to the Lizard in 1889-90 in 83 days; the Auckland from Wellington to the Lizard in 1899 in 84 days; Invercargill from Timaru to the Wight in 1895, in 85 days, and Wellington from Timaru to the Lizard in 1900 in 79 days.

The Canterbury was credited with a run out of 64 days. She was at her best off the wind in a strong breeze. She was still afloat at the outbreak of the war, owned in Tordesstrand, Norway.

Invercargill, under Captain Bowling, had many excellent passages to her credit. Captain Bowling was a native of Kingstown, in Ireland, and started his sea life in the China trade. He commanded the Invercargill for 13 years, at the end of which time he had been 50 years at sea and 30 years in command of sailing ships. He was one of Shaw, Savill’s most trusted commanders and was noted for the way in which he handled his beautiful ship.

Not many years ago a writer to the “Nautical” described one of Captain Bowling’s skilful bits of seamanship. He wrote as follows:—

The Invercargill, fully laden from London, arrived off Wellington Heads one afternoon. A fine southerly breeze was blowing. Very impatient to get anchored, Captain Bowling decided to sail right in without the assistance of a tug. But just as he got well up the entrance, the wind suddenly veered right round to the northward and blew hard, and as his ship was well up inside Barrett’s Reef by this time, things began to look rather serious. Notwithstanding his many difficulties—for the slightest error or hesitation in timing the order of the different manœuvres meant disaster—old Bowling managed everything like clockwork, and the Invercargill dropped her anchor off Kaiwarra, just as darkness fell.

The Invercargill’s last passage under the British flag in 1904 was her worst; in it she weathered out the biggest gale of Captain Bowling’s experience. She sailed from Sydney, N.S.W., on the 27th August, 1904, loaded with wheat, being bound to Queenstown for orders. On the 30th September she was caught in a Cape Horn snorter, her cargo shifted to port, her port bulwarks were carried away and for some time she lay on her beam ends. At last by hard work the cargo was man-handled to the windward side, she righted and continued her passage. But once again she ran into heavy weather, this time in the Atlantic in 45° N., 20° W., and the morning of the 8th December found her battling with a heavy gale from N.W., the weather being clear. The entry in the log at 4 p.m. said:—

Hard squalls and high confused sea, vessel labouring heavily and shipping great quantities of water fore and aft.

At 7 p.m. both wind and sea increased, and a huge mountain of water broke over the port quarter and swept the decks, the whole length of her. The cabin skylight was burst in and the water flooded below, breaking into the saloon and cabins, the sail locker, the lazarette and even into the ’tween decks; the companion hatch on the poop was carried away, and along with it went both compasses, stands and binnacles, side lights and screens, the patent log from the taffrail; in fact, pretty near everything on the decks except the wheel. Mr. Le Sueur, the mate, lost no time in getting a sail over the gaping skylight and all hands were turned to bailing out the water from below, which was up to one’s waist in the cabin. 8 p.m. found the gale still blowing with undiminished force, and the ship was rolling heavily as she ran before it. By midnight the seas were mountainous and the squalls became fiercer and more frequent. About 4 a.m. a big sea washed out the carpenter’s quarters, and “Chips,” under the impression that the ship was sinking by the head, made the best of his way aft. But Captain Bowling and his officers were all below clearing up the wrecked cabin, etc. The carpenter, thereupon, informed the man at the wheel of his fears, with the result that the latter had an attack of nerves, thought he was running the ship under, and allowed her to come to. As the ship broached to, the cargo shifted for the second time and the Invercargill went over on her beam ends. The foresail, fore upper topsail, jib, fore topmast staysail and main royal all blew adrift out of the gaskets and were soon in tatters. The lifeboat to leeward was lifted out of her davits and swept away. Then, whilst the ship lay down with her lee foreyard arm dipped 6 feet into the broken water to leeward, the seas worked havoc on the flooded main deck.

Daylight disclosed the extent of the damage; the galley was gutted, the carpenter’s shop was bare, all his tools gone and the doors smashed in; the contents of the bosun’s locker, paint locker, and the mate’s and second mate’s cabins were washed clean out of them, and gone overboard. The topgallant bulwarks to leeward were all gone, and the running gear being dragged backwards and forwards through the swinging ports was cut to pieces, two of these ports had been torn off their hinges; the foc’s’le-head and poop ladders were gone and all the poop stanchions; whilst the racks for handspikes and capstan bars were empty.

All that day and the next night the Invercargill lay like a log with her lee rail buried deep and her main deck full of water. At last, early on 10th December, the wind dropped very light and went into the S.W. with thick weather.

Cargo was jettisoned to bring the ship on an even keel, and at last she was got away on her course. The next difficulty was making a landfall without a reliable compass, as only an old compass which had not been adjusted was available, both the steering and standard compasses having gone overboard.

In spite of a large allowance made for his defective compass, Captain Bowling found himself nearly ashore amongst the Scilly Isles. Again his fine seamanship saved the vessel, and on the 18th December he brought her safely into Queenstown, 113 days out from Sydney.

Orders were received here to proceed to Glasgow, but the crew came aft and refused to proceed in the crippled ship; upon which she was towed round to the Clyde and was docked in Princes Dock, Govan, on Christmas Eve.

After she had been repaired and refitted at a cost of £1000, Shaw, Savill sold the splendid old ship to the Norwegians, who renamed her the Varg. She sailed for Christiania in 1905, with coal ballast, and was never seen again after clearing the Tail of the Bank.

The Auckland, after a long and successful career with many fine passages to her credit, was sold to S. O. Stray, of Norway, in 1904, but soon disappeared from the Register.

The Nelson’s finest sailing feat was in 1875, when she ran from Otago Heads to the Horn in 19 days. She was still afloat in 1914 at the outbreak of the war, sailing as a barque under the Chilean flag, and must often have had a chance of trying her sailing powers against the old tea clipper, Lothair, which was also still afloat on the West Coast of South America.