THE HOMERIC
A British liner belonging to the White Star Line.
All this that I have so far described, and much more that I have not even hinted at, is put into a ship merely in order that passengers and freight can be quickly and safely carried over the sea. In these days of luxury, however, passengers demand more than speed and safety. Comfort is, from the viewpoint of steamship lines vying with each other for passengers, a vital necessity, and competition has added comfort to comfort until ships have become lavish and luxurious, and such service as can be had only at the finest hotels and watering places ashore are commonplaces of the sea. Every luxury that lies within the bounds of reason—and, to be truthful, a few that seem to lie just across the border—are to be found on the greatest ships of to-day. Does one wish a suite of rooms with private parlours and solariums, numerous bedrooms and private baths? It is to be had (by the payment of a price) and one is king of truly regal quarters for a passage. Does one wish to bathe in such a bath as Caracalla would have marvelled at? One has merely to go below, put on a bathing suit in the privacy of a perfectly appointed dressing room, and plunge into the crystal water of a pool that would have been the envy of any luxury-loving Roman—a pool so great that in it the smallest of Columbus’s ships could comfortably ride at anchor. Does one wish to entertain one’s friends at dinner? A word to the steward, and when the party is led to its table, there it finds all the brilliance of snowy napery and polished silver, of sparkling crystal and fragrant flowers, with specially printed menus prepared for the event. Has one “snapped” some scenes about the deck with his camera? He has merely to take the film to the dark room and develop it himself or have the task performed by an attendant. A doctor is on duty. An orchestra is carried in order that music may be had for dances, for entertainments, and during meals. A library, with great thick rugs, with easy chairs, and cases filled with books beckons to one when other pastimes pall. A smoking room where card games can be played is a popular centre. A palm garden and an à la carte restaurant are to be found in addition to the regular dining room. A gymnasium is convenient. A nursery for small children is available. But a complete description of such a ship is all but impossible.
These are the ships that are the perfection of the type that have all but driven sails from the seas—that have, in the carrying of passengers, entirely eliminated sails. Yet hardly had they reached the point where they might comfortably settle down to profit from the elimination of their ancient rivals, when an upstart ship—a ship whose lineage is so limited that its entire development lies in the 20th Century—put in its appearance and already has gained such a foothold among steam-driven vessels that it seems not unlikely that the days of steam upon the sea are numbered.
These new vessels are the motor ships. In fifteen years they have grown from experimental craft to great and powerful liners capable of holding their own against all comers. The Aorangi, a great liner of 23,000 tons displacement, now operating on the Pacific, and hundreds of other motor ships of scores of types point dramatically to the end of the era of steam.
CHAPTER VI
STEAMSHIPS OF MANY TYPES
Of the super-giant ships there were, in 1924, but ten, but as one starts looking for smaller ships, he finds them much more numerous. Under the British flag alone there are about two hundred ships of ten thousand or more tons. In the entire world there are about twenty-nine thousand steamships of five hundred tons or more.
It is this enormous fleet to which we now must turn in order that we may continue our ever-widening story of the development of ships. And with this vast fleet we shall include the countless thousands of still smaller steamers that serve as many thousand masters in a great diversity of ways. The ships to which I shall refer in this chapter are so diverse in size, in duties, and in model that it almost seems that the only thing they have in common is their universal ability to float on the surface of the water.
First there are the mail liners, which differ in few things other than size from the huge vessels I have described in Chapter V. And even in size they are more or less comparable, as they are from twelve or fifteen thousand tons to twenty-five thousand. As a class they are hardly less luxurious than their greater sisters, and their speed is only slightly less. And aside from these two things there is no essential difference, except that they are more numerous and are less expensive to build and to operate. And, too, they are less expensive to travel on, which is a blessing for those of us who cannot afford to pay the rates of the giant liners.