The “Christian McCausland” Loses her Wheel.
In 1873, on the run to the Horn, when homeward bound loaded deep with wool and tallow (it was just before the days of Plimsoll) the Christian McCausland had her wheel washed away, and the incident, as showing what a beautiful steering ship she was, is worth recording.
Being very deep, she was making a wet passage of it running before the high westerly seas, and taking a good deal of heavy water aboard, especially in the waist. About eight days after leaving port she was running before a fresh gale on the starboard quarter, under reefed foresail, reefed upper topsails, and fore topmast staysail, the only sail set on the mizen being the lower topsail.
Soon after the change of the watch at 4 a.m., two heavy seas broke over the poop in quick succession, and washed away the wheel, which with the helmsman clinging to it was only brought up by the rail at the break of the poop.
The mate, whose watch it was, ran forward, singing out for all hands, and as he went, let go the topsail halliards. The ship, however, made no attempt to broach to, and ran along as steadily as if someone was at the helm.
As soon as possible the relieving tackles were rigged, and it was found that with five men on each tackle the ship could be steered without any difficulty. So the topsails were hoisted again and away she went.
The gear connecting the wheel to the rudder head was the usual right and left handed screws, which were luckily undamaged. These no doubt acted as a brake on the spindle and had a good deal to do with stopping the ship from coming up in the wind when the wheel went. The wheel and helmsman were found at the break of the poop, the man unhurt, but the wheel with every spoke broken through close to the nave as if cut by a saw.
During the morning watch the weather moderated and the carpenter was able to unship the nave of the wheel, and it was found that one of the main winch handles fitted the spindle as if made for it. This was put on the spindle, and the ship was actually steered by turning the winch handle, the helmsman facing the ship’s side and looking over his shoulder at the compass. Later on, the captain improved this curious method of steering, by lashing a small handspike to the vertical arm of the winch handle, which gave the helmsman much more command and also allowed him to stand upright. And in three days the carpenter fitted the rim of the wheel and nave with a new set of stout elm spokes, and made such a good job of it that it was not found necessary to replace them on arrival in London. The rest of the passage was uneventful, the Horn was rounded in fine weather, and the Christian McCausland finally brought up at Gravesend close astern of the Russian royal yacht, which had just brought over the Czar Alexander on a visit to England.
“CHRISTIAN McCAUSLAND.”
Photo by De Maus, Port Chalmers.
[Larger image] (209 kB)
![[Larger image]](#6242537029064317809_i_p364a_1_large.jpg.id-3084678097460207714.wrap-0.html.html){kind=link}
“PIAKO.”
[Larger image] (206 kB)
![[Larger image]](#6242537029064317809_i_p364a_2_large.jpg.id-6905263917190770413.wrap-0.html.html){kind=link}
After having four ships on the stocks in 1869, Patrick Henderson remained content with his fleet until 1874. His ships were always painted black with gold stripe and gingerbread work, whilst Shaw, Savill’s were painted green. When the two firms amalgamated in 1882, all their ships came out with painted ports and lead colour under the ports.