CALIFORNIA CLIPPERS OF 1852--THE “SOVEREIGN OF THE SEAS”
As one by one the California clippers came home from Asiatic ports or
round Cape Horn from San Francisco in 1852, it was found that almost all
of them needed a pretty thorough overhauling aloft. The masts, spars,
and rigging of the _Flying Cloud_ were fine examples of the skill of her
sailors in clapping on fishings, lashings, stoppers, and seizings, while
her topmast fids, crushed and broken, were taken up to the Astor House
and exhibited to the admiration of the town. Her owners, Grinnell,
Minturn & Co., had her log from New York to San Francisco printed in
gold letters on white silk for distribution among their friends, and
Captain Creesy fled to his home in Marblehead in order to escape
notoriety.
The _Sea Serpent_, _Eclipse_, and _Stag-Hound_ were in much the same
condition aloft as the _Flying Cloud_, while the _Witchcraft_, on the
voyage from San Francisco to Hong-kong had lost her main and mizzen
masts with all sails and rigging attached, during a severe typhoon in
the China Sea. The _Tornado_, commanded by Captain O. R. Mumford, bound
from San Francisco to New York, had lost her bowsprit with the foremast
and sprung her mainmast, when to the westward of Cape Horn. It required
fourteen days to complete the jury rig at sea, after which she sailed to
New York, a distance of 8000 miles, in 51 days. In acknowledgment of
Captain Mumford’s services on this occasion, the New York, Sun, Astor,
and Mercantile Insurance Companies presented him with a costly solid
silver service, which was made by Ball, Black & Co., and exhibited in
the window of their store on the corner of Murray Street and Broadway.
All of these ships were rerigged in New York with stouter spars and
rigging than they originally carried, and much valuable experience was
gained by sparmakers and riggers as to the requirements aloft of these
large, powerful clippers, while their captains had at the same time
become better acquainted with their peculiarities. The great difficulty
was to get a large ship, say from 1600 to 2000 tons, that would sail
fast in moderate winds. If she had canvas enough to drive her along in a
light breeze, the chances were that in a gale something was bound to
carry away aloft. The utmost skill and judgment were required to rig and
to handle these heavily masted ships with wooden spars and hemp rigging.
The great race to San Francisco in 1852 was between the _Sword-Fish_ of
New York and the _Flying Fish_ of Boston, both extreme clippers and
built respectively by William H. Webb and Donald McKay. The _Flying
Fish_ sailed from Boston November 11, 1851, and on the same day the
_Sword-Fish_ passed Sandy Hook. Large sums were wagered upon the
result. Captain Nickels of the _Flying Fish_ and Captain Babcock of the
_Sword-Fish_ were both young and skilful commanders, and it was believed
by their friends that each would send his ship along at her utmost
speed. The _Flying Fish_ made an excellent run of 19 days to the
equator, leading the _Sword-Fish_ by four days. From the equator to 50°
S., the _Flying Fish_ was 26 and the _Sword-Fish_ 22 days, so that they
passed that parallel on the same day. They raced round Cape Horn, part
of the time side by side, the _Flying Fish_ making the run from 50° S.
in the Atlantic to 50° S. in the Pacific in 7 and the _Sword-Fish_ in 8
days. From this point the _Sword-Fish_ came up and steadily drew away.
She made the run to the equator in 19 days, leading the _Flying Fish_ by
3 days, and from the equator to San Francisco in 20 days, gaining on
this stretch another 3 days, and arrived at San Francisco February 10,
1852, after a splendid passage of 90 days 16 hours from New York. The
_Flying Fish_ arrived on the 17th, or 98 days from Boston. The
_Sword-Fish_ was regarded by many as the fastest and handsomest ship
built by William H. Webb; and her passage of 90 days, the second best
ever made from New York to San Francisco, and within one day of the
record, together with many other fast passages, among them her record
run of 31 days from Shanghai to San Francisco in 1855, an average of 240
miles a day, certainly places her at or very near the head of the list
of clippers launched from this famous yard.
Some of the other notable passages of this year were made by the
_Sovereign of the Seas_ and _Comet_, each 102 days; _Sea Witch_ 108
days from New York; _Staffordshire_ 101 days, and _John Bertram_ and
_Shooting Star_ each 105 days from Boston.
The _Flying Cloud_, on this, her second voyage from New York, arrived at
San Francisco September 6, 1852, 113 days from New York. She had, for
her, a long run of 30 days to the equator; and when she was off the
coast of Brazil, running before a light northerly wind under skysails
and royal studdingsails, with the weather clew of her mainsail hauled
up: as Captain Creesy was taking his noon observation, a large clipper
ship was reported about six miles ahead, under the same canvas but
almost becalmed. She was soon recognized by Captain Creesy and his
officers as the _N. B. Palmer_. The _Flying Cloud_ carried the breeze
until about two o’clock, when she also ran into the calm, and signals
were exchanged. Captain Low, of the _N. B. Palmer_, reported with
pardonable pride, that he had sailed from New York eight days after the
_Flying Cloud_, and had found good winds to the equator; indeed, a few
days after sailing he had made 396 miles in twenty-four hours.
As may be imagined, Captain Creesy was somewhat chagrined, but at all
events, here at last were the ships about whose speed there had been so
much discussion, side by side on blue water, and soon there would be a
chance to find out which was the faster of the two. As there was every
indication of a southerly breeze, both ships took in their
studdingsails, rigged in the booms, and got ready for the new wind, with
a pull on sheets and halliards fore and aft. The _Flying Cloud_ had a
fine crew, and in after years Captain Creesy in describing this race
said that, “They worked like one man, and that man a hero.”
At about four o’clock there was a faint southerly air with a few
cat’s-paws, and soon the breeze came up from the south in a dark-blue
line across the horizon. Both ships felt it at the same moment, and
braced their yards on the starboard tack sharp by the wind, which soon
freshened to a fine whole-sail breeze. The _Flying Cloud_ now began to
draw away. At daylight the next morning, the _N. B. Palmer_ was hull
down to leeward, and by four o’clock in the afternoon was no longer in
sight. Both ships had strong westerly gales off Cape Horn, and the
_Flying Cloud_ led her rival into San Francisco by twenty-three days.
It is only fair to say, however, that the _N. B. Palmer_ lost five days
through putting into Valparaiso to land two of her crew, and as it
turned out, to ship seventeen men to replace deserters. One of the two
men landed had shot and wounded the mate, and the other, known as
“Doublin Jack,” had knocked the second mate down with a handspike.
Captain Low put both these men in irons, triced them up in the mizzen
rigging, and gave them each four dozen lashes of ratline stuff, which
they had well earned. Captain R. B. Forbes, one of the most humane and
kind-hearted of men, declared in an address before the Boston Marine
Society in 1854, that he regarded “the abolition of the power of
flogging refractory seamen as having been injudicious”; and I think that
most men who had experience in handling the crews of merchant ships on
the high seas in those days will be inclined to agree with him.
The demand for new clipper ships had by no means abated in 1852, and
thirty-three California clippers were launched in this year. Donald
McKay built the _Sovereign of the Seas_, _Bald Eagle_, and _Westward
Ho_; William H. Webb, the _Flying Dutchman_; Samuel Hall, the
_Polynesia_, John Gilpin, _Flying Childers_, and _Wizard_; Jacob A.
Westervelt, the _Golden City_, _Golden State_, and _Contest_; Jacob
Bell, the _Messenger_ and _Jacob Bell_; Paul Curtis, the _Golden West_,
_Queen of the Seas_, _Cleopatra_, and _Radiant_; J. O. Curtis, the
_Phantom_ and _Whirlwind_; Jabez Williams, the _Simoon_; R. E. Jackson,
the _Winged Racer_; Fernald & Pettigrew, the _Red Rover_.
Undismayed by difficulties as to spars and rigging that beset the minds
of other ship-builders, Donald McKay resolved in this year to build a
still larger clipper than had yet appeared. This ship was the _Sovereign
of the Seas_, of 2421 tons register, and when she was launched in June,
1852, the bells that had welcomed the _New World_ and _Stag-Hound_ as
the largest merchant ships afloat, again rang out a joyous greeting to
this noble clipper, as she glided smoothly and swiftly into the blue
waters of Boston harbor.
The _Sovereign of the Seas_ measured: length 258 feet, breadth 44 feet,
depth 23 feet 6 inches, with 20 inches dead-rise at half floor. It is
interesting to note that each one of Mr. McKay’s clippers had less
dead-rise than her predecessor. The _Stag-Hound_ had 40 inches dead-rise
at half floor with slightly convex water-lines; the _Flying Cloud_ and
_Staffordshire_ 30 inches with concave water-lines and shorter but
sharper ends. The _Sovereign of the Seas_ had the longest and sharpest
ends of any vessel then built, and combined the grace and beauty of the
smaller ships with immense strength and power to carry sail.
She had a crew of 105 men and boys, consisting of 4 mates, 2 boatswains,
2 carpenters, 2 sail-makers, 3 stewards, 2 cooks, 80 able seamen, and 10
boys before the mast. She was commanded by Captain Lauchlan McKay, who
was born at Shelburne, Nova Scotia, in 1811, being one year younger than
his brother Donald. Like him, he went to New York, served an
apprenticeship there with Isaac Webb, and after becoming a master
ship-wright, was appointed carpenter of the U. S. frigate
_Constellation_, in which he served four years. Admiral Farragut was a
young lieutenant on board this ship at the same time. In 1839 Captain
McKay published a work on naval architecture, and soon after, in company
with his brother Hugh, opened a shipyard at Boston. Here they did
repairing, and in 1846 built the bark _Odd Fellow_, in which Lauchlan
sailed as captain. In 1848 he commanded the ship _Jenny Lind_, and made
some excellent passages in her. When he took command of the _Sovereign
of the Seas_, Captain McKay was in his forty-first year, and of gigantic
build and strength.
The _Sovereign of the Seas_ sailed from New York for San Francisco,
August 4, 1852, a poor season of the year for a rapid run to the
equator, but she crossed 25 days out from Sandy Hook, making a run
which had never been bettered in the month of August, and only twice
equalled--once by the _Raven_ from Boston in 1851 and once by the
_Hurricane_ from New York in 1853. She was 23 days from the equator to
50° S., and 9 days from 50° S. in the Atlantic to the same parallel in
the Pacific. After rounding Cape Horn, she carried away her fore-and
maintopmasts and foreyard, and it required fourteen days to rerig her,
during which time she was kept on her course, and made the run from 50°
S. to the equator in the remarkable time, considering her disabled
condition, of 29 days. She went thence to San Francisco in 17 days,
which is the record for the month of November, and her total run from
New York to San Francisco was 103 days.
Had the _Sovereign of the Seas_ not been dismasted, it is reasonable to
suppose that she would have equalled the fastest run from 50° S. to the
equator in the month of October, which is 19 days, made by the _Ocean
Telegraph_ in 1855. This would have reduced her passage to 93 days;
still, as it stands, her passage of 103 days has never been equalled by
a vessel sailing from New York for San Francisco in the month of August.
Captain McKay received much credit for rerigging his ship at sea and not
putting into Valparaiso, and was presented with a very beautiful silver
dinner service by the New York Board of Marine Underwriters.
This was the only passage made by the _Sovereign of the Seas_ between
New York and San Francisco. She carried on this voyage 2950 tons of
cargo, and her freight amounted to $84,000; a portion of the
[Illustration: The “Sovereign of the Seas”]
cargo, consisting of flour, sold in San Francisco at $44 per barrel.
She cleared from San Francisco in ballast for Honolulu, and there loaded
a cargo, or rather several cargoes, of sperm oil which had been landed
by American whale-ships in the Pacific, and sailed for New York,
February 13, 1853. She had light and variable winds to the equator, her
day’s runs ranging from 80 to 302 miles, and she made this stretch from
Honolulu in 8 days. On February 27th, she was off the Navigator or
Samoan Islands, and one cannot help thinking of the delight it would
have given Robert Louis Stevenson if he could have looked upon this
giant clipper flying southward under her white cloud of canvas, and with
what magic words he would have made her name immortal.
On March 4th, the _Sovereign of the Seas_ sprung her foretopmast, and
although it was fished on the 6th, it was a source of anxiety for the
remainder of the passage, and Captain McKay, mindful of his recent
experience in these seas, carried sail with a considerable caution.
Nothing of special interest occurred until March 15th, when the first
strong westerly gales were felt, and a series of remarkable day’s runs
was begun. Up to noon on March 16th, she had sailed from her position at
noon the day before, 396 miles; on the 17th, 311 miles; on the 18th, 411
miles, and on the 19th, 360 miles, a total of 1478 miles in four days.
During these four days, she made 34° 43′ of longitude eastward, which
with the difference in time gives an average of 15½ knots, or an average
of a fraction over 378 miles for each twenty-four hours. In the 11 days
from March 10th to the 21st, she made the remarkable run of 3562 miles,
and as she made during this time 82° 24′ of longitude, her average
allowing for difference in time, was 13¾ knots, or 330 miles each
twenty-four hours.
During her great run on the 18th of 411 miles, she made 10° 30′ of
longitude, which reduced her sea day to 23 hours 18 minutes, and shows
an average speed of 17⅔ knots, or 424 miles in twenty-four hours. On
this day her log records: “Strong northwest breezes and rough sea.” It
seems extremely improbable that she could have maintained uniform speed
of 17⅔ knots throughout the twenty-four hours, but at times her speed
probably slackened to 15 or 16 knots. If this supposition is correct, it
follows that her speed must at times have exceeded 17⅔ knots in order to
account for this average. In the absence of any data on this point,
which is much to be regretted, it seems probable that she must have
sailed at a speed of not less than 19 knots during a portion of these
twenty-four hours, and perhaps 20 knots. After rounding Cape Horn she
had light and moderate winds, her best day’s run being only 286 miles,
and she arrived off Sandy Hook May 6, 1853, after a passage of 82 days
from Honolulu.
She sailed again from New York for Liverpool, June 18th, passing Sandy
Hook at 6:30 P.M., sighted Cape Race in Newfoundland at 6 A.M. on the
24th, was off Cape Clear in Ireland at 6 A.M. on June 30th, took a pilot
at 2 P.M. July 2d, and anchored in the Mersey at 10:30 P.M. that day,
having made the entire run from dock to anchorage in 13 days 22 hours
and 50 minutes. This must be regarded as a most remarkable passage for
the season, and has never been equalled by a sailing vessel during the
month of June. Her best day’s run was on June 28th, 344 miles, by the
wind, under single-reefed topsails, and on the 30th, 340 miles with
skysails and royal studdingsails set. The Cunard S.S. _Canada_ sailed
from Boston on the same day that the _Sovereign of the Seas_ sailed from
New York, and a comparison of their logs published at the time shows
that in five days, June 25-30th, the ship outsailed the steamer by 325
miles, and that the best run of the _Canada_ during this passage was
only 306 miles.
On this voyage her builder, Donald McKay, was a passenger on board the
_Sovereign of the Seas_, and he passed most of his waking moments on
deck, watching her movement through the water and observing the various
strains on her spars and rigging. When he returned home, Enoch Train
asked him what he thought of the ship, and Mr. McKay replied, “Well, she
appears to be a pretty good ship, but I think I can build one to beat
her”; and eventually he did so.
Mrs. Donald McKay sailed with her husband on this voyage and took a keen
interest in everything that went on aboard ship. Although this was a
summer passage, nevertheless, there was enough rough weather to bring
out the splendid sea-going qualities of the vessel, and to Mrs. McKay,
who, it is a pleasure to record, is still living, the vivid picture of
this thoroughbred clipper wrestling with the winds and waves has always
remained one of the exciting experiences of her life.
All of the American clippers made good passages home from China to
Atlantic ports in 1852, though no record was broken. The run of the
_Shooting Star_, 83 days from Canton to Boston, was the best of the
year.
It was during the passage from Canton to New York in this year that
Captain Creesy of the _Flying Cloud_ had the unusual experience of
perusing his own obituary in mid-ocean. It appears that after passing
Java Head, and when his vessel was well across the Indian Ocean, she
fell in with a ship outward bound, and in exchange for chickens, fruits,
and vegetables from Anjer, received newspapers from New York, one of
which contained the following somewhat startling announcement:
“Captain Creesy of the ship _Flying Cloud_.--It will be seen by the
telegraph news in another column that this gallant sailor is no more.
Two days after sailing from San Francisco, bound to China, he died, and
the ship proceeded in charge of the mate; he was a native of Marblehead,
and about forty-six years of age. For many years, he commanded the ship
_Oneida_ in the China trade, and was distinguished for the rapidity of
his passages. In the _Flying Cloud_, he made the shortest passage on
record to San Francisco, and eclipsed the finest and most costly
merchant ship in the world,[9] and yet this crowning triumph of his life
was attended with many disasters to his spars and sails; still, he
pressed on, disdaining to make a port short of his destination. In
every scene of a sailor’s life ‘with skill superior glowed his daring
mind’--his dauntless soul ‘rose with the storm and all its dangers
shared.’ But now he rests from his toils, regardless of his triumphs.
Peace to his manes.”
It was found that this news originated in New Orleans, having been
telegraphed from there to New York, and although no explanation of the
blunder was ever made, it at all events relieved Captain Creesy of an
annoying lawsuit. It will be remembered that in August, 1851, on the
passage to San Francisco, his first officer was put off duty soon after
rounding Cape Horn, “in consequence of his arrogating to himself the
privilege of cutting up rigging.” This was a more serious offence than
perhaps appears at first sight, as the _Flying Cloud_ was badly crippled
aloft, and was a long way from the nearest ship chandler’s store, while
Captain Creesy needed every fathom of rope on board for preventers and
lashings. In due time, the mate turned up in New York and got in tow of
a philanthropic legal “gent,” who paid his board and lodging while
awaiting the arrival of the _Flying Cloud_ in order to prosecute Captain
Creesy; but when they learned that he was supposed to be dead, the mate
was shipped off to sea again, while the sea-lawyer friend lost no time
in making fast to his three months’ advance.