The Sea Rovers

by Rufus Rockwell Wilson

Meanwhile an overhauling equally minute and thorough is going on in the engineer's department, which includes not only the engines and boilers, but also the electric-lighting plant of the ship. The work of this department, however, is so arduous while at sea that officers and men receive liberty for the entire time the ship remains in port, their places being taken by a special shore force which remains aboard until sailing day. One boiler is left untouched to supply power for the engines that work the electric and refrigerating apparatus, the pumps and the machinery used in shipping cargo, but all the others as soon as they have cooled are entered, examined and, if need be, repaired. Each tube, combustion chamber and furnace receives careful attention; cylinders, pistons, crankpins and crossheads are gone over one by one, while the engines are generally overhauled and all the arrangements of the fireroom inspected. Nor is the steward's department less busy while in port. All the bed and table linen used during the voyage, many thousands of pieces, is collected and sent to the company's laundry, after which all the staterooms are cleaned and put in order and the fresh supply of linen made ready for the coming voyage.

During a steamship's stay in port the three chief divisions, sailing, engineer's and steward's, are under the jurisdiction of shore officials whose officers are on the deck. The sailing department is responsible to the marine superintendent, the engineer's to the superintending engineer and the steward's to the port steward. Thus the vessel while in port has no direct communication with the company's office, the dock superintendents acting as intermediaries. When stores are sent to the ship they are addressed to the department for which they are intended. The port steward controls the direct purchasing of provisions and is supposed to buy in the cheapest and best market. The marine superintendent and superintending engineer furnish the other materials required. Should provisions be found unsatisfactory when received the chief steward sends them back, and in such action is always upheld by the port steward. The cargo is in charge of the sailing department and is received and stowed under the direction of a boss stevedore selected by the dock superintendent.

Even the fleetest ocean steamships carry considerable cargoes, and to those unfamiliar with it the process of loading a vessel is a sight full of interest. On the wharf assorted merchandise by the carload is being lifted from vans and piled near the ship, and teams by the score are adding their quota to the immense mass, while on the water side lighters laden with more merchandise are either fastened to the vessel's side or anchored close at hand waiting to hoist their contents aboard. Engines are puffing, ropes are tugging and derricks lifting heavy freight of every kind to the ship's deck, the orders of the stevedore and the answers of his men mingling with the general din. Large vessels have four or five holds and much skill is required to properly stow the cargo in them, grain, from its compact and dead weight, being mostly reserved for the center of the vessel, while cured provisions are packed as far forward and aft as possible for their better preservation from the heat of the ship's fires. In many vessels carrying passengers as well as freight the heaviest weight is stowed in the lowest hold; this is to steady the ship and is called in the argot of the stevedore "stiffening" the ship. It requires about 1,500 tons to "stiffen" an ocean steamship of the largest size, and when this is done the hold is battened down and work begun on the next.

An important feature in the loading of a steamship is her coal. It is customary to take as high as 200 tons of a surplus over the actual needs of the voyage, and the bunkers of the vessel are in charge of a special gang of men. Some vessels load their coal over all, but a majority receive it through openings at the sides. Large V-shaped pockets, running direct to the bunkers, are let down on each side and around them are built stagings on which a couple of men are stationed to dump the coal from huge buckets hoisted by engines from lighters. On the wharf side the coal is wheeled in barrows up a shelving gangway and turned into the bunkers direct. To load a great vessel requires the services for several days of 125 men, including a boss stevedore and a couple of foremen and with all the appliances of steam and gearing to assist their operations. The force is divided into half a dozen or more gangs, each having its head, who is in communication with the boss stevedore. As the work is intermittent the men are paid by the hour, and there is a keeper who does nothing else but take down the time each one is employed. Certain gangs of longshoremen stick to certain lines, and many of them have worked nearly all their lives for the same company. When the loading of a ship is completed a detailed inspection of cargo is made by one of the officers, and for this reason the boss stevedore is always careful to prevent slovenly methods on the part of his men, being aware that in the end he will be the one held responsible for haste or error.

While the cargo is being received and loaded stores for the coming voyage are also being taken aboard. The supplies for the physical comfort and necessities of 1,500 persons on a ship can be measured only by the ton, 30,000 pounds of beef, for instance, being often used on a single voyage. About 150 tons of water are required for cooking and drinking, an additional fifty tons being made daily on board by the evaporators from sea water and used for cleaning purposes. When it comes to food and drink the ingenuity of the port and ship's stewards is put fairly to the test. A day or two before the ship leaves port the number of passengers who will probably sail on it is figured up and the ship's steward makes up and hands to the port steward a tabulated list of the supplies needed for the trip, nearly 1,000 articles being named in the requisition, which includes food and drink in every conceivable form. The port steward sends his orders to the firms that supply the line and arranges for the delivery of the goods at certain hours, care being taken that they shall arrive when the pier is not blocked with wagons unloading freight. The meats come at a certain hour, the groceries at another and the spices and so on at another, everything being weighed on scales at the pier and counted as it goes on board.

The variety of the food supplies required for one of these huge floating hotels is bewildering. For example, no less than fifteen kinds of cheese are used, while fish in fully a hundred grades and forms is stowed away. In the list of fruits, fresh, dried and canned, there are at least 125 varieties, and the same is true of vegetables. The list of supplies, moreover, must be scanned by the steward again and again, for it will not do to overlook a single article that may be needed. Here is part of what is required in the way of supplies when a ship like the Carmania is crowded: 25,000 to 30,000 pounds of beef, 5,000 pounds of mutton, 2,600 pounds of veal, pork and corned beef; 8,000 pounds of sausage, tripe, calves' head, calves' feet, sweetbreads and kidneys; 2,000 pounds of fresh fish, 10,000 clams and oysters, 250 tins of preserved fruit, 200 tins of jam and marmalade, 100 large bottles of pickles and sauces, 500 pounds of coffee, 250 pounds of tea, 250 pounds of potted fish, 300 fresh lobsters, 3,000 pounds of moist sugar, 600 pounds of lump sugar, 500 quarts of ice cream, 3,000 pounds of butter of various grades, 16 tons of potatoes, 5 tons of other vegetables, 15,000 eggs, 1,000 chickens and ducks, and 2,000 birds of different kinds. Lard by the ton is used and often as many as 140 barrels of flour are consumed.

The departure of an ocean liner from port is a critical moment for each member of the ship's company. All leaves of absence expire twenty-four hours before the time for sailing, and this precaution makes it certain that every man shall be at his post. At 8 o'clock on the morning of leaving the sea-watches are formally set. The lower fires in the many-lunged furnaces have been started at 10 o'clock on the previous night; six hours later the top fires are lighted, and at 6 A. M. the operation of getting up steam begins, it being always necessary to have a full pressure of steam at least one hour before sailing time. As the moment of departure draws nearer, an air of suppressed excitement pervades the waiting throng, but there is no confusion among those charged with the ship's conduct and safety. Each officer is at his post, and knows his duty. The chief officer is stationed on the forward deck in full view of the captain on the bridge, where the latter with a wave of his hand indicates just what he wants done. The senior and junior second officers are on the after deck; the extra second with the captain on the bridge, and the third and fourth officers at the forward and after gangways.

Meanwhile, as the minutes wax and wane, winches chatter noisily; windlasses clink musically; capstans rattle with slacking cables; and the shrill chanty songs of the docking gang working the warps, answer the cheery "Yo-heave-oho" of the sailors on the deck. On the bridge with the silent yet impatient captain lingers a representative of the company. By and by, after the final instructions have been given, this person departs, and as he goes over the side the captain, saluting him with a wave of the hand, gives a quiet order to the first officer. The wheel is shifted, the capstan reels noisily, and link by link the chain comes home. At last, after a vicious tug or two on the cable, the ground is broken, and, dripping with cleansing water from the hose, the anchor, ring and stock, appears above the foam-streams rippling at the bow. When the catfall is hooked, the ship swings easily around the jutting pier, the engines increase their speed, the ensign dips in answer to salutes, and a long blast from the whistle claims the right of the channel. Slowly and carefully she picks her way through the shipping that crowds the harbor, drops her pilot and heads for the open. The voyage has begun.

With the dropping of the pilot, sea routine is promptly taken up, and thereafter on the shoulders of the commander rests the preservation of the ship and the safety of the passengers and crew. Every captain of an Atlantic liner embodies in his person a shining example of the law of the survival of the fittest, for there is no short cut to the bridge, and none but a master seaman ever reaches it. The man who would be captain cannot crawl through the cabin window. He must fight his way over the bows, and struggle out of the ruck and smother of the forecastle, by sturdy buffeting and hard knocks, by the persistent edging of stout shoulders backed by a strong heart and an active brain. There is probably not a commander of an ocean liner who has not been around the world as a common sailor, a mate, and finally a master of a ship. In fact, it would be difficult if not impossible to get the command of a transatlantic ship without having first been the captain of a large sailing vessel. Some of the companies like the Cunard, have a rule requiring that a candidate for a captaincy shall have served as a captain somewhere; and only a few years ago a sailor on one of the largest steamships plying between New York and Liverpool, who had climbed from the bottom to the high rank of first officer, left the company with which he had made his progress solely that he might take a place as captain on a smaller and less important vessel. If he succeeds in his new berth—and his old employers will watch his course—it is more than likely that he will be called back in a few years and have a command given him.