Capt. Frank Casey, first commander of the Empress of Ireland, with a humorous cock to his eye and the most delightfully soft Irish brogue, was popular with passengers and greatly beloved by his brother officers. Crossing the banks of Newfoundland in dense fog he could always smell ice, and while he took regulation soundings his officers say it was only a matter of form for he would call the depth and bottom before it was officially reported.
Capt. Murray, who succeeded to the Empress of Britain, was very popular, highly respected and is deeply regretted. He was killed in the Halifax explosion while engaged in war transport work for the Government.
Capt. Walsh, who was taken over with the Elder Dempster fleet in 1903, still remains as manager of the C.P.O.S. at Montreal. He has sailed the seas over for many a year, and was in the Gold Coast of Africa trade before joining the C.P.R.
And then there was Capt. Evans, “Bully” Evans, not nicknamed as you might suppose, but from his many years of piloting cattle ships. He had a keen sense of humor and a wonderfully hearty and infectious laugh. His gruff, bass voice and sometimes frowning eyebrows, hid one of the kindest hearts that ever beat, and now, alas, it’s stilled for ever.
Capt. Smith sailed the Milwaukee for years. She went a long way in a long time. Early in her career, before his command, she lost her nose in an argument with the east coast of Scotland. The new one supplied by the generous owners served a purpose, but did not add to her speed, and although she was credited with 9.2 on her trials her fair sea average was nearer 2.9. Capt. Smith was heading her out into the broad Atlantic, when a submarine broke water on his starboard bow. He was unarmed save for a ten-foot log of wood he had mounted on the bow, and some detonating caps. Swinging his ship bow on, he trained his “ordnance” and one cap exploded so realistically that the sub. promptly ducked. A few hours later the Hesperian went to the bottom through, it is supposed, the same submarine.
Capt. Boothby, whose brother is the English author, Guy Boothby, and Capt. Hodder, who stood six feet two inches in his stocking feet and weighed three and a half pounds for every inch of his height, were born of the sea. I nearly “beat up” Capt. Hodder once, but explained afterward I had refrained principally on account of his size and his sex. One of his boys was torpedoed three times, and he thought the last time was particularly hard luck as the boy only saved his pyjamas and a red flannel undershirt.
Capt. Gillies brought the Keewatin out from the Clyde on her way to her home on the Upper Lakes. Like Silas Wegg, he occasionally dropped into poetry and could see a joke less slowly than most of his fellow-countrymen. He was less concerned about the subs. than he was about the instructions for avoiding them. His verses on the trials of the commander of a convoyed ship are amusing now, but at the time of writing they contained as much truth as they did poetry.
Capt. Jimmy Turnbull, who served with great distinction in the great war, was decorated, mentioned in despatches, and has since been promoted to the highest commissioned rank in the R.N.R., that of full captain. Multum in parvo with a vengeance.
Capt. Clews, whose jovial face and perennial smile compel a return in kind, was going to New York for a few days, and hearing that except for an uncle he was without friends in the American metropolis, I offered some letters of introduction. On his return, he apologized for not having presented them, but explained he found it impossible to get away from his uncle. Long afterwards it developed that the uncle in question was Henry Clews, the great banker.
Capt. Griffiths, now on the Empress of Britain, Capt. Griffith Evans, now I think the senior of the Ocean Service shippers, and Capt. Parry, are all fellow countrymen of Lloyd George, and very properly proud of it. Capt. Webster is also well among the seniors, but as fit and hearty as ever. Capt. Kendall, to whom belongs the credit of the capture of Dr. Crippen, Capt. Murray, who was chief officer on the Lake Champlain when I crossed on her sixteen years ago, bore a gallant part in the action and was severely wounded when the Carmania sank the Cap Trafalgar.