The “Wild Deer.”
The fastest of these China ships was the Wild Deer. She was launched from Connell’s yard in December, 1863, being his thirteenth ship; and was composite built with iron topsides, teak planking to turn of bilge and elm bottom. She had a beautiful figure-head of the goddess “Diana,” and was altogether a fine example of an out and out tea clipper.
Her measurements taken from Lloyd’s Register were as follows:—
| Tonnage net | 1016 | tons. |
| Tonnage under deck | 955 | „ |
| Length | 211 | feet. |
| Breadth | 33.2 | „ |
| Depth | 20.7 | „ |
Her poop was 42 feet long, and her foc’s’le-head 31 feet. She came out in 1863 with Cunningham’s patent single topsails, but owing to her dismasting was one of the earliest ships to send aloft double topsail yards.
The following are the original spar measurements of her mainmast:—
| Mainmast—deck to truck | 130.6 | feet. |
| Lower mast—deck to cap | 64 | „ |
| Doubling | 13.6 | „ |
| Topmast | 46 | „ |
| Doubling | 8 | „ |
| Topgallant mast | 25 | „ |
| Royal mast | 17 | „ |
| Mainyard | 75 | „ |
| Topsail yard | 61 | „ |
| Topgallant yard | 46 | „ |
| Royal yard | 34 | „ |
Wild Deer was taken from the stocks by Captain George Cobb, a well-known racing skipper in the China tea trade who had previously commanded the Robin Hood. Her complement consisted of 3 mates, 3 apprentices, carpenter, sailmaker and bosun, 16 A.B.’s and 3 ordinary seamen, it being intended to ship 4 more A.B.’s in China in the event of her getting into the race home with the cracks.
On her maiden passage she lost her foremast in the North Atlantic, owing to the want of angle irons, as Titania did a few years later, and this lost Wild Deer her chance of loading the first teas of the season. She had to put into Lisbon to refit, and came out of the Tagus with a very mixed sail plan; on the foremast she had an old-fashioned single topsail with three rows of reef points, on the main double topsails and on the mizen her original Cunningham’s patent single topsail.
Her first two tea passages from Shanghai were good average runs, but nothing remarkable, her best work being 72 days from Anjer in 1865.
In 1866 she left London on 16th April and arrived at Shanghai on 29th July, 104 days out. Again she did not succeed in getting away with the first ships, but leaving Shanghai on 10th September she made Portland on Christmas Day. A fine S.S.W. breeze was blowing and Wild Deer was romping along under all plain sail and starboard fore topmast stunsail, when the American schooner yacht, Henrietta, the winner of the first ocean yacht race, hauled out from the land and, closing on the clipper, hoisted her colours and asked her name. The late Gordon Bennett, her owner, was on board the yacht, and evidently wished to try her paces against the tea ship, as the Henrietta held on in company with Wild Deer for an hour or two, then bore away for the Needles.
On this passage whilst crossing the Indian Ocean in the S.E. trades, Wild Deer made three consecutive 24-hour runs of 312, 312 and 327 miles.
On the outward passage in 1867, Captain Cobb had to be landed ill at Anjer and died shortly afterwards. His place was taken by a Hollander skipper. The Dutchman took Wild Deer on to Shanghai and loaded tea, then leaving Shanghai in August he took the Eastern Passage, but when he had cleared Dampier Straits took it into his head to alter his course for Anjer. This absolutely spoilt Wild Deer’s chance of a quick passage, as she had to thread her way up the Java Sea through a succession of light airs and calms, and actually took 84 days to Anjer.
This was a great pity for she made a splendid run home from the Straits of Sunda, arriving in the Thames in January, only 68 days from Anjer, but 152 from Shanghai.
In 1868 her wings were cut, 3 feet being taken off her lower masts.
She was then handed over to a Captain Smith; unfortunately Smith was a regular old woman, but she was fortunate in getting Duncan as mate. This man had served in Ariel and Titania as chief officer, and was one of the best mates in the China trade, being specially noted for his skilful handling of sails in bad weather.
Wild Deer got away from London at the end of March, and left Shanghai with a tea cargo towards the end of July, a week behind one of Skinner’s beautiful little ships, the Douglas Castle. In spite of Duncan’s remonstrances, Captain Smith, who was frightened of the Caspar Straits, determined to go east about; but the Wild Deer had so good a start south through the Formosa Channel that old Smith plucked up his courage and held on for Gaspar.
The very first day after he had changed his mind, Wild Deer ran into the S.W. monsoon and had to be braced sharp up. The following morning about daybreak a ship crossed her bows on the other tack. This proved to be the Douglas Castle, and the two ships were in company all the way to Gaspar, except whilst passing Tamberlan Islands, which Wild Deer went east of, and the Douglas west.
The ships were evidently very well matched in light winds, but the Wild Deer was handicapped by the want of courage in her skipper. The night before the Straits were made it was clear moonlight, the sea dead smooth and there was a nice little breeze blowing; both ships were close-hauled on the port tack, with Wild Deer about a quarter of a mile to windward, neither ship gaining an inch.
Then at the change of the watch at midnight, old Smith backed his mainyard, clewed up his light sails and waited for morning, but young Captain McRitchie of the Douglas Castle, a far smarter man and the real sort of skipper for a tea clipper, held on, with the result that when the Wild Deer filled away again at daylight the Douglas Castle had a lead of several miles. Soon after sun up another ship was observed getting under weigh close to Billiton, where she had evidently anchored for the night; this proved to be the Peter Denny from Foochow—another of Patrick Henderson’s ships. All three ships now had a fine trial of strength in the beat through Gaspar Straits. In this windward work the Peter Denny showed up best, being by far the quickest ship at going about, but she was commanded by a very smart sailorman, Captain George Adams, who had everything arranged for quick working, whilst old Smith was specially slow at getting the Wild Deer round—he was generally late with his commands and always hauled his mainsail up, though Captain Cobb always used to work his mainsail in tacking.
At 10 a.m. the Douglas Castle kept away for the Macclesfield Channel, and about noon Wild Deer made for Clements Channel, whilst the Peter Denny held on for the Stolze; this would save her tacking again once she was clear of the Straits, as the S.E. monsoon was blowing steadily in the Java Sea. Thus the ships were parted for a time. That night was another clear moonlight night with a nice little breeze. During the first watch the Brothers were sighted on the Wild Deer, and Duncan reported them to Captain Smith, who was lying asleep on the skylight. Smith, however, had none of the alertness of a crack China trader and went off into a heavy sleep again, then during the middle watch he woke up like a bear with a sore head and asked the big Highland second mate if he had seen the Brothers yet. Of course the second mate said he had not seen them, as they had been passed whilst his watch was below. At this old Smith got in a panic; the mainyard was backed, the courses hauled up and the royal yards lowered down. On coming on deck at 4 a.m. Duncan found to his amazement that the ship was hove to, and to his disgust that one of the others had passed her during the night whilst she lay with her head under her wing. On finding out the reason from the second mate, he roused out the “Old Man” and reminded him that he had reported the Brothers during the first watch. And you may be sure that it was “jump and go” for the crew until the Wild Deer was off again.
The wind fell light as the ship approached Sunda Straits, and as Wild Deer crawled towards Anjer the other two ships were sighted ahead, almost becalmed.
Wild Deer managed to avoid the calm patch by going to the norrard of Thwarttheway Island and Krakatoa, and thus stole a march on her rivals; however, they finally came out of the Straits, neck and neck. Just before dark the S.E. trade came away. Wild Deer was still leading, but the Douglas Castle was so close astern that each crew could hear the other singing out as they trimmed sail for the run across the trades.
The next morning found Wild Deer still in the lead with the other two ships one on each quarter, and the following day the three ships separated until they were off the Cape. Then, on a day of baffling and squally winds the Wild Deer and Douglas Castle passed each other on opposite tacks, the Douglas signalling that she had spoken the Denny that morning.
The Wild Deer found a head wind in the mouth of the Channel, but eventually after two days’ beating a fine slashing breeze came out of the south-west. At Dungeness the pilot had no news of the other two ships; but just as the Wild Deer was making fast to her buoy at Gravesend the Douglas Castle came up, and, as she passed, hailed to say that the Peter Denny was close astern.
Unfortunately for Wild Deer she remained under the command of Captain Smith for several more voyages, during which she was not allowed to show her paces and usually arrived home in such a condition that Captain Sellers, the ship’s-husband (a good old name for the present day shore superintendent) used to declare that she was a disgrace to the Albion fleet.
However, on Captain Smith’s death Captain Cowan had her for two voyages, carrying emigrants to New Zealand; on Cowan leaving her to take the Wellington from the stocks, Captain Kilgour, who had been mate in her, was given command, and in 1881-2 she came home from Otago in 82 days, arriving on 30th January.
Then Captain Kerr had her; this man had been carpenter of the Peter Denny years before, and mate of the Christian McCausland, one of Henderson’s first iron ships. He was a very steady man, but no sailor.
On 12th January, 1883, when outward bound with emigrants, he piled the poor old Wild Deer up on North Rock, Cloghy, County Down, and she became a total loss.
Duncan’s Method of Taking in Sail.
It may be of interest, perhaps, to describe the method used by Duncan, the crack racing mate of Ariel, Titania, and Wild Deer, when taking in sail. For a topgallant sail he sent as many men as were available to the lee buntline and leachline; one hand, generally an apprentice, stood by the clewline, and another attended to the weather brace. Duncan himself would ease away a few feet of the halliards, then sing out:—“Let go your lee sheet!” Away would fly the sheet, followed by Duncan letting go the halliards; the hands on the buntline and leachline hauling away for all they were worth, the yard would run down and round itself in so that the boy on the weather brace only had to take in the slack. With smart hands on bunt and leachlines, the lee side of the sail would be spilt and up on the yard before it was well down and the apprentice on the clewline had only to get in the slack and make it fast. The lee side of the sail being well up, there was no trouble with the weather side. A hand in the top was almost unnecessary as the lee sheet needed no lighting up—it did that itself quick enough. The success of this method, of course, depended on the smartness of the hands on the bunt and leachline, but there were not many indifferent sailormen in a tea clipper’s foc’s’le.
In taking in a course Duncan used to man the lee bunt and leachlines well, with two hands only on the clew garnet; on the sheet being eased away bunt and leachlines were hauled smartly in, the sail was at once spilt and hauled up to the yard without a flap, the slack of the clew garnet being rounded up; then there was no trouble with the weather side.
This is also the method advocated by Captain Basil Hall in his Fragments of Voyages. Everything depended, of course, on having the necessary beef on the bunt and leachlines.