From Lower Deck to Pulpit

by Henry Cowling

In answer to this call the crew of the lifeboat and certain men of the watch who have special duties to perform, called 'tricks,' during the next four hours, present themselves before the quarter-master, who, being satisfied that the correct number there, dismisses them. Two look-out men are required for each hour of the watch, four for steering, the weather and lee helmsman being relieved every two hours, eight for the chains. The uniform time for heaving the lead, by which is ascertained the depth of water, is one hour, but as circumstances alter cases, it was found necessary on our fishery cruises to reduce the time one-half. So intense was the cold that each man upon entering the chain would bathe his hands in warm grease, provided for the purpose of enabling him to heave the lead. Here is a little story in connection with this 'trick.' Two men agreed one night to toss up a penny and to decide thereby as to which of them should do the full hour, in order that one of them might be relieved from his work—for, be it said, unless there are yards to trim, or sails to furl or set, the watch on deck can lie down to rest, but under no circumstance is any seaman allowed to go below until the four hours are expired. However, after a little parleying, they came to the conclusion that each would do his own 'trick.' Accordingly one did his duty, and was awaiting, to be relieved by the other, but not a trace of him could be discovered for some time, until at length he was found sleeping behind a large gun. This man then told his mate, by way of explanation, that he had had a dream in which he dreamt they both tossed up and he had won, and that therefore the one wanting relief was to do the hour's trick.

When daylight dawns the 'look-out' is transferred from the topgallant forecastle to the forecross trees, or, if sail is set, to the foretopsail yard. Many an hour have I spent, from time to time, on the topsail yard, often sick and giddy, when the ship has been rolling and dipping. Thoughts of home would gather in my mind, and there aloft, where no human eye could see, have I cried aloud, giving vent to my pent-up feelings. Sick, I say, yes, and bareheaded, using my cap for a sanitary purpose, rather than get into trouble by being sick overt the sails.

At 9 a.m. is the inspection of uniform, followed by prayers. Should it be Tuesday or Thursday, rifles and cutlasses are inspected, and each man is supposed to wear his boots. This to many is hateful. In my watch was a man named Timothy Hennesy, who on 'small-arm' days would bind with spun-yarn his big toe, thereby giving the inspecting officer the impression he had hurt it, and was in consequence excused from wearing his boots.

Following this inspection, one watch goes below to make or mend their clothes, and the other remains on deck until noon. Dinner is piped, but it is not very tempting to one's appetite. Salt pork or beef with preserved potatoes form the menu. Spending the greater part of the three years at sea, our share of salt food was abundant, and in order to prevent scurvy, lime-juice was distributed.

After this meal the watches change again, the forenoon watch below going on deck until 4 p.m., the other remaining below.

I once endeavoured to make me a flannel. The stitches I must confess, were long and irregular; but worse than that, when attaching the sleeves to the main part, I misplaced end for end, so that when I came to try on this novel garment the wide part hung in bights around my wrist, the narrow part fitting tightly round my arm. So much for my reversed sleeves. No more sowing engaged my time in the watch below.

At 4 p.m. tea is piped. It consists of a basin of tea minus milk, and a small allowance of hard biscuit. Food being so scanty in the navy, the sailors apply this appellation to their mess, 'The Drum,' thus signifying that as far as food is concerned the mess is as empty as a drum. "Which drum do you belong to?" they ask.

Half an hour being allowed for tea, then another inspection of the crew in night clothing takes place. Sail drill is then engaged in for a couple of hours, and the routine of the day is brought to an end by the washing of clothes.

At twilight the look-out man is called down from the mast-head, and takes up his position on the forecastle, the bow lights being lit at the same time. Hammocks are hung up at 7.30 p.m., and supper is indulged in, which the messes buy at the canteen, none being provided by the Admiralty.

The life of a sailor boy is a very unpleasant one in a seagoing ship. Early in the morning he has to take his hammock on deck to undergo the inspection of the ship's corporal, who, before the boy is allowed to stow it, satisfies himself it is lashed up in the uniform manner. Then follows the inspection of knees and elbows, and should any boy not be clean, the others are deputed to scrub him. Next comes the climbing of the mast-head. These are but three of the many inconveniences he has to suffer until such time as he is rated O.D. or ordinary seaman.