THE
VOYAGE OF THE 'BON ACCORD'.
THE VOYAGE OF THE 'BON ACCORD.'
My name is Bob Slingsby, and in the autumn of last year I was senior apprentice, or midshipman (for we wore a smart uniform), on board the good ship Bon Accord of Aberdeen, freighted from London to Hong Kong, and a few who may survive to read these lines will recall the story I am about to tell—the plain unvarnished one of a sailor boy (I was then only sixteen) in the Indian seas.
We had left Swatow on the 24th of September, after getting on board a pilot, who was the cause of all the mischief that followed.
The Bon Accord was a fine full-rigged clipper ship, of Aberdeen build, 900 tons, coppered to the bends, with masts that raked well aft; she was straight as an arrow in her planksheer, and was well armed, for there are some ugly customers to be met with in these seas beyond the ordinary track of our cruisers, as we found to our cost.
The ship's company consisted of Captain Archibald, a good and resolute seaman, who hailed from the port of Leith; three mates, the doctor, Joe Ruddersford, boatswain, two apprentices (myself and my chum, little Charlie Newcome, for we were three short according to our tonnage), and thirty men—thirty-eight all told, and a few lubberly Lascars who all bolted when the first sign of danger came.