On Board the "Rocket"

by Robert C. Adams

The midnight catastrophe.

Upon arrival at Singapore my first indulgence was in a good all-night's sleep in bed, which one learns to appreciate after days and nights on deck.

On one of the few occasions during this passage, when I had an opportunity to catch a nap on the cabin sofa at night, I was greatly alarmed by being aroused from dreams of shipwreck, by water pouring over me from a jug upset by the swinging open of a locker door. Anything that happens to "the old man" is considered important on shipboard, and this was deemed worthy of illustration.

At Singapore we discharged the rest of our cargo and loaded a quantity of tin, gambier and gutta percha. We remained twenty-three days here, most of the time being spent in waiting for the merchants at Penang to purchase cargo, as the vessel's appearance at that port while they were buying would have made the native traders put up their prices. So we hid away at Singapore, and a very pleasant hiding place it was.

The first novelty that greeted our arrival was an assemblage of canoes and boats. From the former small boys dived for coin, thrown from the vessel, catching them before they descended far below the surface of the water. From the latter were offered us fruit, birds, monkeys, shells and corals, the last named being especially beautiful. A whole boat load of these at "a hard bargain" was secured for seventy-five cents. The appearance of the town is very picturesque, luxuriant foliage appearing amidst the collections of white houses, and hills rise in the rear covered with nutmeg and fruit trees, while near by the fertile jungle dips its abundant growth into the sea. Many pleasant hours were passed on shore; the fascinating hospitalities of luxurious homes were enjoyed; a picnic in the midst of the jungle nine miles from the city afforded a splendid view of tropical scenery; and a drive to a cocoanut plantation of five hundred acres showed how European enterprise is economizing the fertile products of the East. One evening especially remains prominent in agreeable recollection, when I dined with an old Boston friend. The table was spread on the rear verandah where the trees waved close to us, and the air was full of delicious odors and the singing of insects, their differing notes seeming like tunes. Truly life in Singapore is fascinating.

There were a number of American vessels here waiting for freights to improve in different ports of the East. In order to save expense they desired to discharge their crews, but, three months' extra pay being required by the consul, they either had to add to the lack of employment the further infliction of supporting an unprofitable crew, or drive the men to desertion by acts of cruelty and oppression. Every day almost there was some row in the harbor on board an American ship, and this law and its results was a continual topic of discussion.

In a work entitled "Among our Sailors," the author, Dr. J. Grey Jewell, formerly Consul at Singapore, speaks at some length about the law requiring three months' extra pay for seamen discharged abroad, and concludes: "I am convinced that the law is a good one and that it should stand."

During some years' experience in command of vessels I formed the opinion that this is not a good law, and further that there is no enactment concerning our merchant marine so injurious to sailors, so vexatious to shipmasters, so unjust to shipowners, or so corrupting to its executors in its influences. I believe most of those familiar with its operations will approve of my pronouncing it a great curse. This law was made in the beginning of the century, when Americans manned our ships, and when these vessels visited ports seldom frequented, where the discharge of a seaman might often leave him in destitution, with no means of returning home. Now our ships are chiefly manned by foreigners, who are more at home in foreign ports than in those on our own shores, where only we may discharge them; and commerce has become so extended that few places are visited by ships whence ready exit may not be obtained.

Some instances of the operation of this law will best explain its evils. A European crew were shipped in an American vessel at San Francisco for a voyage to Liverpool, the shipping articles containing the clause, made customary by the law prohibiting discharge of seamen abroad, "and thence to a final port of discharge in the United States." At Liverpool the men wished to leave and return to their homes in Norway and Germany, or sail on other voyages. The ship was to remain for several weeks in Liverpool and then sail for San Francisco again, and the men had no desire to go in that direction. Wages in Liverpool were lower than those paid this crew from California, so the shipowner's interest demanded that he should not be obliged to support and pay a useless crew for the weeks his ship was idle, and that he should be allowed to man her for a new voyage at the lowest rate of wages. On application to the Consul by the captain and sailors, information was given that the crew might be discharged, but one month's pay must be given to the Consul, and two months' pay extra to each seaman. The crew, in order to be released, offered to return the two months' pay to the captain, after signing a receipt for it, but the captain, desiring to avoid the unjust imposition altogether, gave the wages to the mate, who privately handed them to the sailors, and they took their departure. The captain next reported to the Consul under oath, that his crew had deserted without his knowledge or consent, but the Consul, finding out that the men had received their money, insisted on the payment of one month's wages at his office. Another vessel shipped a crew at San Francisco to be discharged at Liverpool, but still this extra payment was required.