The fates were good to us and we made a fair run across. With the first smell of the Channel away went the remembrance of all troubles, and eventually the ship was docked and I stepped on shore from the Lord Nelson “out of my time” and a free man.
This, however, was, as I fully recognised, only the beginning of things. My kind friends nursed and fed me back to a decent state of health, and then came the ordeal of getting my second mate’s certificate. In this connection I should like to pay a tribute to the memory of a good and clever man, the late John Newton, master of the Navigation School in Wells Street. He was tireless and unremitting in his endeavours to impart information, and his patience with pupils of all sorts was a thing to be gratefully remembered.
I had, of course, been preparing myself at sea to the best of my ability for the anticipated ordeal, and it may perhaps have been that knowledge that led me to pay less attention than I might have done to the advantages offered. I suppose it was a recrudescence of the spirit which earned me three thrashings a day at school, but Newton’s patience was equal to the test, and his kindness was inexhaustible, although I was generally the ringleader in any attempt to adjourn the day’s work.
But there was now another factor in the equation, and that was the Board of Trade. Let me say here, for the benefit of any young reader whose eyes may fall upon these lines, that the anticipation of an evil is far worse than the reality, but at the same time I do not wish to belittle the ordeal through which I now had to pass.
It is needless to say that before examining a candidate for a certificate, certain certificates of service and sobriety are required, and the Board has the necessary machinery for verifying such certificates. Hence when I went to put my papers in, it was discovered that I had deserted from my ship, and I was informed that to purge so heinous an offence it would be necessary to petition the Board. It did not by any means follow that the petition would be granted, but in this case, helped by my friend Newton, I got my petition through successfully, and I was ready to face the music.
There were certain examiners in navigation and seamanship for the Board of Trade whose names were well known—some with terror—to the aspiring youths of the Mercantile Marine; but there were two who possessed a reputation for severity that was somewhat phenomenal. Personally speaking in all my examinations I got the fairest of fair play, but it does not follow that others may not have suffered. Human nature is not infallible, and some people would try the patience of a saint. Further I have seen officers going up for their certificates dressed so untidily and badly that if they created a prejudice they had only themselves to thank for it. One case in particular recalls itself to me as an illustration.... The man in question had been a brother officer of mine, and I liked him. He was also a gentleman, but he went up looking as though he had been rolled in a hayloft, and came back failed and cursing his examiner—instead of his own folly.
The two undoubted dwellers on the threshold of certificated competency were Captains Noakes and Domett. The former had been in the East India Company’s service, and I should imagine had been a leader of men. I had, therefore, many qualms when on the day of examination the usher opened the door of the waiting-room and informed me that “Captain Noakes is now waiting for you, sir.” My inmost reflection was, “Shall I make a meal for him or not?” That feeling did not last long, however. He asked me a few questions about rigging gear for hoisting out weights, then about handling canvas, and it was done in so conversational a manner that one had rather the feeling of enjoying it. Finally we discussed shortening sail as per Falconer’s Shipwreck, with a few other trifles of a like nature, and I heard him say that he did not intend to put more questions, that I had passed a good examination, and where would I like my certificate issued? To which I promptly replied Ramsgate and bowed myself out, with a feeling that the world was now a ball at my feet. As I write these lines I have the firm knowledge that the ball has been me—but nevertheless it is good to remember that the world was young once, and there were things to strive for, with the store of energy necessary to secure them.
In due course I got back home to Margate, and walked the pier and jetty with some of my old friends the boatmen, who having known me as a boy were now inclined to regard me as being rather a credit to them. I went to Ramsgate, received my certificate from the collector of Customs there, who was kind enough to assure me that I should have no difficulty in obtaining employment. In thanking him I was content to accept his assurance, which, however, I found afterwards was a somewhat optimistic one.