The ships and sailors of old Salem

by Ralph Delahaye Paine

“The same day another robbery was committed, equally as daring. The day the indigo was shipped, the second mate came ashore with several of the people to see it safe aboard. The boats we had provided, not taking all of it, we sent the remainder aboard with a black fellow as a guard, who was esteemed by Mr. Kerr as an honest man, but he had been contriving, it seems, to steal a couple of boxes. When the cases containing the indigo had passed the bar, a small boat came aboard with two boxes filled with chips, stones, etc., appearing in every respect like those full of indigo, and, pretending that we had put on board two wrong boxes, they exchanged their boxes for two real boxes of indigo, but, in bringing them ashore, they were detected and the indigo returned.

“There are great numbers of Chinese at Manila. It is from them most of the indigo is purchased. They trade considerably with China; their junks arrive at Manila in January, and all their goods are deposited in the custom-house. Some of these cargoes are valued at a million of dollars, the duties on which amounted to nearly $100,000. The Chinese at Manila retain all the customs of their country, excepting those respecting religion and a few other things of small moment.”

Captain Benjamin Carpenter of the Hercules, 1792

When the Astrea arrived at Manila on this voyage, Captain Prince was asked by another shipmaster how he contrived to find his way in the face of the northeast monsoon by dead reckoning. He replied that “he had a crew of twelve men, every one of whom could take and work a lunar observation, as well for all practical purposes, as Sir Isaac Newton himself, if he were alive.”

During this dialogue Nathaniel Bowditch, the supercargo, who had taught these sailors their navigation while at sea, “sat as modest as a maid, saying not a word but holding his slate pencil in his mouth,” according to Captain Prince who also used to relate that “another person remarked there was more knowledge of navigation on board that ship than ever there was in all the vessels that have floated in Manila Bay.”

During his seafaring years this singular mariner, Nathaniel Bowditch, learned French thoroughly, and studied Italian, Portuguese and Spanish. One who sailed with him said, “all caught a zeal to learn on board his ships. The whole crew of twelve men on board the Astrea later became captains, first and second mates. At sea his practice was to rise at a very early hour in the morning, and pursue his studies till breakfast, immediately after which he took a rapid walk for half an hour, and then went below to his studies till half-past eleven o’clock, when he returned and walked till twelve o’clock, the hour at which he commenced his meridian observations. Then came dinner, after which he was engaged in his studies till five o’clock; then he walked till tea time, and after tea was at his studies till nine o’clock in the evening. From this hour till half-past ten o’clock he appeared to have banished all thought of study, and while walking he would converse in the most lively manner, giving us useful information, intermixed with amusing anecdotes, and hearty laughs, making the time delightful to the officers who walked with him, and who had to quicken their pace to accompany him. Whenever the heavenly bodies were in distance to get the longitude, night or day, he was sure to make his observations once and frequently twice in every twenty-four hours, always preferring to make them by the moon and stars on account of his eyes. He was often seen on deck at other times, walking rapidly and apparently in deep thought, when it was well understood by all on board that he was not to be disturbed, as we supposed he was solving some difficult problem. And when he darted below the conclusion was that he had got the idea. If he was in the fore part of the ship when the idea came to him, he would actually run to the cabin, and his countenance would give the expression that he had found a prize.”

In keeping with this picture is the story of Bowditch’s behavior when during his third voyage, from Cadiz to Alicante, his ship was chased by a French privateer. The Yankee captain decided to make a fight of it and Bowditch was assigned to hand powder on deck from the magazine. One of the officers, going below after the vessel had been cleared for action found the supercargo sitting on a keg of powder with his slate in his lap, absorbed in making calculations.

Nathaniel Bowditch had made the sea serve him, both to gain a livelihood and to test his theories of practical navigation for the benefit of his fellow seamen. But he did not consider “The Practical Navigator” to be an achievement by which his intellectual powers should be measured. His magnus opus, the fond labor of his best years was the translation and commentary of the monumental work of the great French astronomer, La Place, entitled “Mécanique Celeste” (Celestial Mechanics). So much of his own learning appeared in his exhaustive notes that the American edition of four volumes was a lasting memorial to the industry, knowledge and researches of Nathaniel Bowditch, and was the foremost American achievement in scientific letters during the early nineteenth century. It won a solid fame for Nathaniel Bowditch, both at home and abroad. Where one American, however, has heard of his edition of Mécanique Celeste, a thousand have studied the pages of his “Practical Navigator,” which is a living book to-day.