The South Australian Trade.
During the sixties and seventies, when Sydney and Melbourne were filling their harbours with the finest ships in the British Mercantile Marine, Adelaide, in a smaller way, was carrying on an ever increasing trade of her own, in which some very smart little clippers were making very good money and putting up sailing records which could well bear comparison with those made by the more powerful clippers sailing to Hobson’s Bay and Port Jackson.
From the early fifties South Australia had been sending wool home in exchange for general cargoes from London.
This trade was in the hands of two or three well-run firms, such as the Orient, Devitt & Moore and Elder. These firms owned some beautiful little composite ships, which up till now have received scant notice in the annals of our Mercantile Marine. These little clippers, most of them well under 1000 tons register, were driven as hard as any Black Ball or White Star crack, and this without the incentive of publicity.
Their captains, however, were always in keen rivalry and put a high value on their reputations as desperate sail carriers. They made little of weather that would have scared men who commanded ships of three times the tonnage of the little Adelaide clippers, and they were not afraid of a little water on deck—indeed, when running down the easting, their ships were more like half-tide rocks than merchant vessels, being swept from end to end by every roaring sea; and even in only a fresh breeze their decks were hidden by a curtain of spray.
It was a common saying that they took a dive on leaving the tropics, came up to breathe at the Cape and did not reappear again till off Cape Borda. A South Australian trader prided himself on carrying a main topgallant sail when other ships were snugged down to reefed topsails; and he considered that he had made a bad passage if he was not up with Cape Borda in 70 days. Indeed he usually began to look for the Australian coast about the 60th day out, and if he was at sea for much longer than that without raising the land would begin to think that he had overrun his distance and got into the Gulf of St. Vincent.
It is not surprising, therefore, that the crews of these vessels rarely knew what it was to have a dry shirt on their backs, and usually had had more than enough of it by the time they were off Kangaroo Island; thus it was the general thing for them to run on arrival.
The late Mr. Barry wrote the following interesting account of the usual homeward bound crew on a South Australian wool clipper:—“They loaded some of the golden fleece at the Port and the rest perhaps at Port Augusta at the head of Spencer’s Gulf. There one could see at times quite a clump of pretty little clippers lying in the stream between the mangrove-clad shores, waiting for the camel trains to come in from Pekina and Coonatto and Mount Remarkable. Much rivalry there was too between the ships, as to which should get her hatches battened down first, complete her crew and clear away for the February wool sales. And men in those days were not always easy to procure, for the long, cold Cape Horn passage and the prospect of shipping again out of London at 50s. per month were not very tempting experiences. Thus it often happened crews ran in Port Adelaide and ‘runners’ or temporary hands, just shipped for the trip, had to be engaged to take the vessel round to Port Augusta. These returning by the Penola or the Royal Shepherd or the Aldinga left the shipmasters to trust in providence for men to work the vessels home. But, now and again, bushmen coming down country for a spree at ‘the Port’, a mere hamlet, consisting then mainly of gnats, sand and galvanized iron, would be induced, once their money was gone, to sign articles for the trip home. Men who had never thought to use the sea again, bullock drovers, boundary riders, shepherds and station hands of every description were thus often found on board the clippers of the composite wool fleet. Many of them had not been to sea for years; but before they had got the smell of ice in their nostrils all the old tricks of the craft came back to them and better crowds no skipper could wish for, if at times apt to be a little intolerant and careless of discipline, with the liberal life of the bush so close behind them.
“A hard experience, too, it generally proved for them, quite unprovided as they (for the most part) were with a sea-going outfit of any description and dependent on the often scantily supplied slop chest. And many a time when washing along the decks in icy Cape Horn seas or hoisting the frozen canvas aloft, while hail and rain pelted and soaked them, poorly fed, poorly clad, the merest sport of the bitter southern weather, they regretted with oaths deep and sincere their snug bunks and ‘all night in’ of the far away bush stations, where tempests troubled them not and the loud command of ‘all hands’ was unknown. Nor, as a rule, London Town once reached, did they lose any time in looking for a ship bound to some part of the country they had so foolishly left.”