THE PERFECTION OF STEAMSHIPS
Most people who have had little experience with the sea, and many who
have travelled on it, have little idea of the size of ships. Probably
this is due to the fact that we see so much mention made of the world’s
greatest ships, with their tonnage and their other measurements, and
so little of the thousands of ships that carry the bulk of the world’s
passengers and practically all of the world’s freight. Our newspapers
refer frequently to ships of thirty or forty or fifty thousand
tons, but rarely do they mention the ship of 3,500 or 4,000 tons.
Consequently, with such frequent mention of the giant liners before us,
our tendency is, naturally enough, to imagine that they are typical
of the sea, which is a very great error. In the transatlantic service
there were, in 1924, but ten steamships of more than twenty-five
thousand tons. On other routes none of them exists. It is as if we
thought all buildings small because they do not equal in size St.
Peter’s in Rome, or Versailles in France, or the Woolworth Building
in New York, for the greatest steamers are as much greater than the
average as St. Peter’s is larger than the little parish church, as
Versailles is greater than the average home of a country gentleman,
as the Woolworth Building is greater than the countless thousands of
office buildings that house the great majority of business offices.
Yet these great ships, trifling in number though they are, are properly
of interest to stay-at-homes and travellers alike, to landlubbers and
sailors. The thing to remember, however, is that from the viewpoint
of world commerce they are comparatively unimportant, and that the
world could much more readily carry on its great affairs without these
gigantic sea-borne palaces than without the smaller passenger ships and
the countless thousands of “tramps” that roll and pitch and plod across
the Seven Seas and make possible the commerce upon which the modern
world depends.
[Illustration: THE _MAJESTIC_
_Formerly the German liner_ Bismarck. _It is now the property of the
White Star Line._]
It is important, therefore, to bear in mind what measurements
constitute greatness in size, and what measurements are average. Such
ships as the _Majestic_, the _Berengaria_, and the _Leviathan_ are
truly gigantic, and probably for many years to come they will not be
greatly surpassed in size. So large are these three ships that they can
enter only a few of the world’s great harbours, they cannot be tied up
at more than a handful of piers, they cannot be docked at more than a
few of the world’s great dry docks. There are a few other liners that
approach these great ships in size, but not many. The _Aquitania_,
the _Mauretania_, the _Olympic_, the _Homeric_, the _Paris_, the
_George Washington_, the _Belgenland_, the torpedoed _Lusitania_ and
_Justicia_, the _Titanic_ which was wrecked on an iceberg—all these
ships belong to the same race of giants, but there are no others,
although, of course, there are other ships that bridge the gap between
the wallowing tramps and these that I have mentioned.
For the present, however, I shall pass by the smaller ships, more
important though they are, as a race, and describe, in some detail
the marvellous ships that voyage between the English Channel on the
East and New York on the West, for it is in this service that all the
greatest ships are to be found.
Modern marine engineering is quite up to designing, constructing,
and operating ships greater than any that now exist, but should much
larger ships be built little would be gained. New dry docks would have
to be built, new piers constructed, deeper channels dredged, all at
huge expense, and the building of such ships would in itself call for
disbursements so vast that the companies operating them would find it
difficult or perhaps impossible to make them pay. Consequently, I shall
content myself with describing what now exists, feeling certain that
any developments within many years will not so much surpass these great
ships already afloat as to make my remarks entirely out of date.
As an example, therefore, let us take the _Majestic_, which, despite
some argument on the part of those who put the _Leviathan_ in
commission, is slightly larger than any of the others I have named.
To say that she is 956 feet long and 100 feet broad means little.
It may, perhaps, mean more to say that it would not be advisable
to anchor more than four such ships in a harbour a mile square and
forty-five feet deep. But even that, perhaps, may leave one wondering.
[Illustration: THE _LEVIATHAN_
_Formerly the German liner_ Vaterland, _and taken over by the United
States during the World War._]
An automobile can turn around without difficulty in a street fifty feet
wide. If the _Majestic_, however, found it necessary to turn around
while under way without resorting to anything more than the use of her
steering wheel she would require a channel more than a mile wide. In a
much more restricted space than that, the utmost skill in reversing her
propellers or the use of tugboats would be essential.
It is trite to remark that such a ship is a floating city, yet she
actually is. Her passengers and crew together, at the height of the
tourist season, number more than 5,000, but no town in the world of
that population has such luxuries or comforts, such machinery or such
artistic interiors as this great ship carries as its equipment.
In order to give an adequate idea of what this vast steel structure
contains and is propelled by it will be necessary to divide it into two
major parts—that is, the hull and the machinery, and the accommodations
for passengers.
First let us take the hull and the machinery.
The hull of a ship is its prime necessity. Without a hull there can be
no ship, just as without a foundation and without walls there can be
no house, for a ship’s hull combines her foundation and her walls. In
order, then, to understand the greatness of the gigantic liners we are
discussing the first thing to understand is the hull.
All hulls of great size are built of steel. First a great steel
framework is constructed, then it is covered with sheets of steel and
many steel decks are built, and steel bulkheads are installed in order
to give still greater strength.
In building such a ship the first thing necessary is a great yard large
enough to accommodate the ship, and many shops in which parts of the
ship are to be made or assembled. There is an incline constructed on
which the ship will be built, and the incline is so arranged as to
slant down to the water’s edge. The ship’s frame is first put up, and
the first part of the frame is the keel. The keel is a long and very
heavy backbone that runs the entire length of the ship and is the
centre of the bottom. To the ends of this are fastened the great steel
frames that rise high above the keel to form the bow and the stern—that
is, the front and back of the ship. At narrow intervals between these
two towering ends are erected the “frames” or ribs, which, in order
to make them strong, are built up like great steel girders, running
from the keel along the bottom and up the sides. When all of these
are riveted in place a very good idea of the shape of the ship can be
secured. Amidships—that is, halfway from the bow to the stern—these
frames are very much like a broad and flat-bottomed U, but as they
approach the bow they are more and more like huge Vs. Toward the stern
they take more unusual shapes, somewhat like a V except that a little
above the bottom on each side they curve sharply out and back in a
semi-circle in order to go around the shafts on which the propellers
are carried.
[Illustration: THE _BERENGARIA_
_A former German ship now belonging to the Cunard Line._]
Thousands of men work on these huge steel structures, and a “skin” of
steel is riveted on the outside of these frames. In the bottom and
extending a little way up the sides a second “skin” is placed on the
inside of the ribs. These two coverings make up the “double bottom.”
Girders for decks are put in place, great rooms are left for boilers,
engines, and other equipment, the shafts are installed, the engines
and boilers are bolted in place, and finally, when the ship is getting
fairly well along toward completion, she is launched. That is, the
great timbers that have been holding her in place are sawed in two,
and the great vessel slides down the ways into the water.
After she is launched the infinite number of tasks still untouched are
attended to, and finally she is completed—a marvellously complicated
and wonderfully perfect fabrication, into which almost every industry
in a nation has put something.
These hulls are huge and are tremendously strong, yet so great are the
dimensions of the ship, so great her weight, that should her giant
hull touch a rock the heavy steel plates would curl up like paper,
the frames would bend like tin, and driven head on against a cliff or
an iceberg the great structure would crumple its bow, twist its great
frames, and might become a total wreck.
Modern ships that are propelled by machinery use two principal methods
of propulsion, paddle-wheels and screw propellers. Paddle-wheels bear a
very close resemblance to mill-wheels. They are merely great circular
structures with paddles attached at intervals around the circumference
which, when the wheel is partly submerged and set to turning, strike
the water one after the other and so propel the hull to which the wheel
is attached. These wheels are sometimes arranged amidships, one on each
side, and sometimes but one wheel is used (in this case it is much
broader) at the stern, or rear end of the vessel. This equipment is not
satisfactory for ocean-going ships, for heavy seas sometimes crush the
paddle-wheels. River steamers, however, and particularly shallow-draft
river steamers, find this means of propulsion satisfactory.
The other method of propelling ships—that is, by screw propellers—is
more important, and for use at sea is practically universal.
A screw propeller operates on exactly the same principle as an electric
fan, and ships may have one or more of these propellers, which are
fastened to shafts projecting through the hull beneath the water at the
stern. If the ship were tied up strongly to a pier, so that it could
not move, and the propellers were turned by the engines, the result
would be to set in motion a column of water away from the propeller
just as an electric fan sets in motion a column of air. The resistance
of the water is so great, however, that once the lines that secured the
ship to the pier were thrown off, the propellers would set the ship in
motion, and the propellers would progress through the water in somewhat
the same way that an ordinary wood screw advances through wood when a
screwdriver is properly applied.
The _Majestic_ is propelled by four of these propellers, two on each
side astern. Turning at 180 revolutions a minute they utilize 80,000
horse power. One might think that propellers would waste much of this
power—that is, that they might turn in the water without pushing the
ship forward very much, as a wood screw sometimes turns round and round
without getting a grip on the wood into which the carpenter wishes to
drive it. This is true to some extent when a ship is first starting,
but once the ship is in motion a properly designed propeller will be 95
per cent. efficient—that is, it will go as far in 100 revolutions as if
it ran without any “slip” for 95 revolutions.
A propeller is measured by its diameter, just as an electric fan
is measured. A propeller ten feet in diameter is one whose blades,
measured from the centre of the shaft, are five feet long. Another and
equally important measurement is the “pitch”—that is, the distance
forward the propeller would travel in one revolution if it were
running through a solid. Take a wood screw and look at it carefully.
You will find that the threads run around it in a spiral. Mark a spot
on one thread, and then trace the thread around the screw until it
again reaches the side you marked. It will have advanced toward the
point, and the direct distance between the place you first marked and
the place you have arrived at would be the “pitch.” As a propeller
blade travels in a path similar to the thread of a screw, its pitch is
similarly measured.
The four propellers on the _Majestic_ are built of manganese bronze
and each carries four blades. They are 16½ feet in diameter, and their
pitch is 14 feet 11½ inches.
Two of these propellers turn one way and the two on the opposite side
turn the other. This is to offset the tendency to swing the ship out of
its line of travel, which would be very apparent if all the propellers
turned one way. Ships with one propeller feel this action very plainly.
Such huge propellers as the _Majestic_ carries, and such great power
as her engines develop, necessitate the use of heavy shafts, which
are the great round steel rods that connect the engines and the
propellers. These shafts run from the centres of the propellers through
the ship’s stern to the engine room, and in the _Majestic_ are 16½
inches in diameter. Where they enter the ship there must be a very
carefully built “stuffing box” and bearing which will prevent the
entrance of water. Once each shaft has passed this bearing it runs for
a considerable distance through a “shaft tunnel,” which is a long,
low, narrow compartment through which men may walk in order to inspect
the shaft and see that the bearings, which are spaced at intervals
along the “tunnel,” are properly oiled. Finally the shaft reaches
an apparatus called the “thrust block.” This is a simple but highly
important arrangement. To explain its use it is necessary to go back to
the propeller.
When the engines are in motion and the propellers are being turned they
develop a great “push” against the water, and it is this push that
makes the ship move. If, however, something were not done to take up
the push, the propellers would slide the shafts lengthwise through
their bearings, and the end of the shaft attached to the engine would
press so hard against it that it would push the engine from its base,
or at least would wear the bearings out, and the engine would be
damaged.
In order to receive this “thrust,” as it is called, the “thrust blocks”
are installed. There are several designs, but they all accomplish the
same task in a similar fashion.
[Illustration: THE _MAURETANIA_
_A British liner of the Cunard Line._]
The shaft is equipped with a series of “collars.” These collars, which
are enlargements of the shaft, are so placed that they fit between a
series of surfaces attached firmly to a heavy fixed base, and when the
propeller thrust tends to slide the shaft lengthwise, the “collars”
press against these interposed plates which prevent the shaft from
moving laterally without preventing its rotation. Naturally enough
these thrust blocks must be lavishly oiled, for the friction between
the turning collars and the fixed thrust blocks would otherwise soon
wear both the collars and the blocks. When the propeller is reversed
the thrust is against the other side of the collars, and so the engine
is relieved of all duties save those of turning the shaft.
When the shafts have passed these thrust blocks they have entered the
engine room, which on these great liners is a place far different from
the engine rooms on the smaller ships that are to be found the world
over.
Perhaps the first thing that would strike an inexperienced visitor
in the engine rooms—for there are three—of the _Majestic_ is their
size and the absence of moving parts. Aside from the hum of turbines
and generators and the vibrations that are a part of every power
plant, there is little to tell a person unacquainted with such power
installations that the engines are going. Great turbine cases are
bolted strongly to their bases, but the rapidly moving vanes are
entirely hidden from view. A few men wander here and there, some
watching indicators, others testing bearings, still others polishing
the already shining machinery, but there are no turning shafts, no
moving wheels in view. As a matter of fact, most of the visible motion
and most of the sounds as well come from a lot of little machines whose
duties are important, of course, but are not directly connected with
that one great task of spinning the propellers at 180 revolutions every
minute day and night while the miles are being rapidly put behind the
great ship as she speeds along her route across the Atlantic.
So complicated and so huge is this collection of machinery that it may,
perhaps, be better to pass by the engine rooms for the moment and go to
the stokehold, or boiler room, in order to get an adequate idea of how
the machinery is operated.
[Illustration: THE _BELGENLAND_
_Belonging to the Red Star Line._]
In smaller ships all the boilers can often be placed so that there
will be but one stokehold—that is, one compartment from which all the
boilers are fed. Ships of the size of the _Majestic_ and _Leviathan_,
however, are equipped with so many boilers that they cannot all
be grouped about one stokehold. The _Majestic_, for instance, has
forty-eight separate boilers which, if they burned coal, would require
12 chief stokers, 197 firemen, and 168 coal passers in order to keep
the fires burning properly. The most modern of these giant ships,
however, do not burn coal. Oil is led to the boilers in pipes and, on
the _Majestic_, but eighty-four men are required to get the results
that it would take 377 men to get with coal. These 84 men are divided
into three watches, so that the fires are kept burning and the steam
is generated with but 16 fire-room attendants and 12 cleaners at any
one time. They work for four hours, and are then off eight, coming to
the fire room every twelve hours for their four-hour watch.
Each of these boilers has five burners, to which the oil is forced
under pressure. Each fire-room attendant (they can hardly be called
stokers) has three boilers, or fifteen burners, and the steam pressure
in the boilers can be carried at 240 pounds pressure per square inch.
In ships burning coal the stokehold is a grimy place, with yawning
openings in the sides leading to the black bunkers where the coal is
stored. A few dust-covered electric lights glow dimly in the murky
dusk, and when a furnace door is opened the glare of the fiercely
burning fires lights up the begrimed and sweating stokers, who seem
almost like unearthly creatures toiling in an over-heated Inferno.
But the great oil-burning liners have a different picture to present.
The fire room is almost as neat and clean as is the engine room. The
firemen do not seem to be overworked, as they step from one to another
of their burners, looking through a series of peepholes to see that the
oil is burning properly. Smudges of dirt are not uncommon on a man’s
face and hands, perhaps, but the begrimed Vulcans of the coal-burning
ships have no counterpart on the oil burners, and the coal dust and the
dingy stokehold is a far cry.
The _Majestic’s_ boilers do not depend upon natural draft, but a set of
four powerful fans draws the warm air from the turbine rooms through
two great air shafts about seven feet in diameter and forces it under
pressure beneath the boilers. These great air shafts total 1,000 feet
in length, and a part of the air they supply is led to each boiler. In
addition to this supply for the furnaces there is a separate supply
of fresh air for the crew of the boiler rooms. The boilers are all
separate and any one or any series can be completely shut off from the
others in case of necessity.
The steam that is generated in the forty-eight boilers of the
_Majestic_ is led by a complicated system of pipes to the turbines,
which drive the propellers.
Formerly steamships universally used the reciprocating engine, but
gradually the turbine is being adopted, until now the fastest ships are
universally equipped with this later design.
A reciprocating engine is one that has one or more cylinders in
which pistons are pushed back and forth by the steam which enters
alternately one end of the cylinder and then the other, thus turning
the shaft. This piston, running first up and then down, is joined to a
“connecting rod” which in turn is connected to a “crank shaft” which is
a continuation of the propeller shaft. As the piston moves up and down,
one end of the connecting rod moves with it, for it is fastened by a
hinge to the lower end of the piston rod which runs out of the bottom
of the cylinder. The other end of the connecting rod is attached to
the crank shaft which has a section of itself carried out to one side
just as the shaft on which a grindstone is mounted is bent at right
angles and attached to the handle. As the piston goes up, carrying the
connecting rod with it, the off-centre section of the crank shaft is
carried up also, as the handle of a grindstone is carried up when the
operator begins to turn the wheel. When the piston has reached the
top of its stroke the connecting rod has pulled the crank until it is
pointing straight up. Then the steam pushes the piston down and the
piston pushes the connecting rod, which in turn pushes the crank, so
that the shaft is turned, just as you might turn a grindstone by hand,
your arm representing the piston rod and connecting rod, and the handle
representing the crank shaft.
The turbine, however, is a very different machine. There are no
pistons and no other parts similar to those of the reciprocating
engine. Instead there is a shaft on which is mounted a great steel
wheel. Around the edge of this wheel are mounted thousands of little
vanes, and the whole wheel works on the same principle as a windmill.
A windmill carries a comparatively small number of vanes arranged
somewhat as the blades of an electric fan or a propeller are arranged.
When the wind blows against these “vanes” the wheel revolves. Now a
turbine is a very highly developed example of this same principle, and
the steam is led to it through pipes and directed against these vanes,
which are small but are very numerous. The result is that this windmill
type of engine revolves at a very rapid rate. One can get some idea of
these turbines when he learns that the eight turbines of the _Majestic_
contain a total of 900,000 vanes.
Turbines, however, have two major failings: First, they cannot be
reversed—that is, a turbine can turn in only one direction—and second,
they are most efficient when they operate at high speed. In order to
use turbines on ships, then, it is necessary to have one turbine on
each propeller shaft to drive the propeller ahead, and another turbine
with which to drive it astern. Consequently, the _Majestic_ has eight
turbines—two to each propeller shaft.
The second difficulty is harder to overcome. Propellers are most
efficient when they are run at comparatively slow speeds. Those on the
_Majestic_ are no exceptions to this rule, and at full speed are run
at about one hundred eighty revolutions per minute. Turbines, however,
are high-speed machines, capable generally of thousands of revolutions
per minute. In order to utilize the power generated by the rapidly
revolving turbine and transpose it into useful energy for use by the
slowly turning propeller there must be some sort of reduction gear.
The United States Navy has designed a number of its newest ships
with an electric drive in which the high-speed turbines are used to
generate electricity which is used to turn slow motors that drive the
propellers. Another method is a reducing gear, similar in the work it
does to the gears used in automobiles for “low” and “intermediate,”
but necessarily very much greater in size. In the _Majestic_ the
arrangement is of the latter type—that is, the turbines are operated
at high speeds, and through a series of gears the propeller shafts are
turned at slower speeds.
[Illustration: THE _GEORGE WASHINGTON_
_An American liner, formerly a German ship. She was taken over by the
United States during the World War._]
Necessarily, in operating ships of such size as these we are
discussing, any wasteful methods would be very expensive. It is open
to some question as to whether these huge ships are worth what they
cost, for the margin of profit they show is very small, and the cost of
operation and repair is huge.
In order, therefore, to make them pay it is vitally necessary to
eliminate waste. For instance, if the turbines were each operated by
steam direct from the boilers, and this steam were sent direct to the
condensers after having passed only once across the vanes of a turbine,
it would take very nearly four times as much steam, and four times as
much fuel, to operate the _Majestic_ as it does with the system that is
installed. Only part of the power of the steam is used up in the first
turbine through which it passes, so when the ship is at full speed,
the steam, still under comparatively high pressure, although much less
than when it left the boilers, is led from the first turbine, which
is called the high-pressure turbine, to a second turbine, called the
intermediate. Here again it fans the vanes and the turbine revolves,
but once more the steam is used, for part of its power still remains.
This time, however, the pressure is much less, and the steam has
expanded until it takes up more space than it took up in the boiler,
just as the air in the rubber bladder of a football would take up more
room if the leather cover which keeps it compressed were removed, or
the inner tube of an automobile tire would expand if the “shoe” or
“casing” were not around it. This expanded steam is divided, when it
comes from the intermediate turbine, and is led to the two outside
turbines—that is, the turbines that operate the port, or left hand, and
the starboard, or right-hand, propellers. These are the low-pressure
turbines, and when the steam has passed through these turbines, causing
them to turn, its work is done and it is led to the condenser.
Condensers are a vital part of every sea-going steamship’s equipment.
Locomotives do not need them, and stationary engines ashore do not,
for they can easily replenish their supply of water, but to a ship
crossing the ocean, fresh water is a vital necessity, for its boilers
no less than for its passengers and crew, and should the used steam
be allowed to escape, the ship, no matter how great her water tanks
might be, would probably run out of fresh water long before her voyage
could be completed, if it happened to be at all long. If, in such a
predicament, she should attempt to use salt water there would very soon
be a heavy covering of salt inside her boilers and her steaming ability
would become limited, and, furthermore, the boilers would very shortly
require a thorough cleaning.
In order to prevent this difficulty from arising, all salt-water
steamships and many that are used on fresh water, for lakes and rivers
often contain sediment that would foul the boilers, use condensers.
These are water-cooled systems of pipes through which the steam is led
after its final release from the engines. The steam, which of course is
still hot, is led through these carefully cooled pipes, and in coming
into contact with the cool walls of the pipes is condensed, just as
the moisture in your warm breath is condensed in the winter when you
breathe against a cold window pane. This condensation turns the steam
into water once more, and it is led back to the tanks where it is held
in readiness to be sent again to the boilers.
The auxiliary machinery of such a ship as the _Majestic_ or the
_Leviathan_ is even more complicated than, although not so powerful as,
the engines which drive the propellers.
I have mentioned the ventilation system of the stokehold, but that is
only a small part of the system that ventilates every nook and cranny
in the whole huge structure. There are refrigerators, which are capable
of keeping in cold storage large quantities of perishable products.
There is even, on the _Majestic_, a second refrigerating plant intended
to cool a cargo hold in order that perishable freight may be carried.
Another important auxiliary machine on the _Majestic_ is a Diesel
engine for generating electricity in case something might put the main
generating plant out of commission. With this emergency plant, power
is assured for lighting and for lowering the lifeboats.
In order to handle so great a ship when the engines are necessarily at
such a distance from the “bridge” where the officer in command has his
post when the ship is under way, it is necessary to have some means of
communication between the bridge and the engine room.
A person driving an automobile is not only in command of the steering
of the machine, but is also in direct charge of the engine, the gears,
and the brakes. Not so the captain of a ship. Neither he, nor any of
the men with him on the bridge, has any means of starting or stopping
the engines. There is a man at the steering wheel, of course, but the
men who start and stop and reverse the engines are far below the bridge
and far aft, hidden away beyond where any shouted orders could possibly
reach them. Yet the engines must be operated as the captain commands,
for he is the man who can see what must be done—he is the one upon
whose judgment the safety of the ship depends.
In order to bridge the gap between the bridge and the engine room an
apparatus called the “engine-room telegraph” has been perfected. There
are a number of designs, but all of them by simple mechanical means
permit the officer on the bridge to operate a handle and set a hand on
a dial placed in the engine room so that it signifies the officer’s
orders.
[Illustration: THE _HOMERIC_
_A British liner belonging to the White Star Line._]
All this that I have so far described, and much more that I have not
even hinted at, is put into a ship merely in order that passengers
and freight can be quickly and safely carried over the sea. In these
days of luxury, however, passengers demand more than speed and safety.
Comfort is, from the viewpoint of steamship lines vying with each other
for passengers, a vital necessity, and competition has added comfort
to comfort until ships have become lavish and luxurious, and such
service as can be had only at the finest hotels and watering places
ashore are commonplaces of the sea. Every luxury that lies within the
bounds of reason—and, to be truthful, a few that seem to lie just
across the border—are to be found on the greatest ships of to-day.
Does one wish a suite of rooms with private parlours and solariums,
numerous bedrooms and private baths? It is to be had (by the payment of
a price) and one is king of truly regal quarters for a passage. Does
one wish to bathe in such a bath as Caracalla would have marvelled at?
One has merely to go below, put on a bathing suit in the privacy of a
perfectly appointed dressing room, and plunge into the crystal water of
a pool that would have been the envy of any luxury-loving Roman—a pool
so great that in it the smallest of Columbus’s ships could comfortably
ride at anchor. Does one wish to entertain one’s friends at dinner?
A word to the steward, and when the party is led to its table, there
it finds all the brilliance of snowy napery and polished silver, of
sparkling crystal and fragrant flowers, with specially printed menus
prepared for the event. Has one “snapped” some scenes about the deck
with his camera? He has merely to take the film to the dark room and
develop it himself or have the task performed by an attendant. A doctor
is on duty. An orchestra is carried in order that music may be had for
dances, for entertainments, and during meals. A library, with great
thick rugs, with easy chairs, and cases filled with books beckons to
one when other pastimes pall. A smoking room where card games can be
played is a popular centre. A palm garden and an à la carte restaurant
are to be found in addition to the regular dining room. A gymnasium is
convenient. A nursery for small children is available. But a complete
description of such a ship is all but impossible.
These are the ships that are the perfection of the type that have
all but driven sails from the seas—that have, in the carrying of
passengers, entirely eliminated sails. Yet hardly had they reached
the point where they might comfortably settle down to profit from the
elimination of their ancient rivals, when an upstart ship—a ship whose
lineage is so limited that its entire development lies in the 20th
Century—put in its appearance and already has gained such a foothold
among steam-driven vessels that it seems not unlikely that the days of
steam upon the sea are numbered.
These new vessels are the motor ships. In fifteen years they have grown
from experimental craft to great and powerful liners capable of holding
their own against all comers. The _Aorangi_, a great liner of 23,000
tons displacement, now operating on the Pacific, and hundreds of other
motor ships of scores of types point dramatically to the end of the era
of steam.