THE SAFETY AND LUXURY OF THE PASSENGER
In the course of our story we have treated with less consideration the
aspect of luxury which, to some minds, is at once the most obvious
and most striking feature of a steamship, whether yacht, liner, or
excursion steamer. But since we set forth not to write a treatise on
marine furniture and upholstery, but to show, step by step, how the
modern steamship has come to be what she is, it was essential that we
should have kept strictly to the main points of our task. Nevertheless,
we should have fallen short of our duty had we omitted to give some
idea of the care which is paid to make the ship take on the dual
personality of hotel and ferry. It is inevitable that the ship in
any age, whether of sail, steam or petrol, should be influenced by
the forces at work ashore. Caligula’s galleys (of which a detailed
description was given in the author’s “Sailing Ships: The Story of
Their Development from the Earliest Times to the Present Day”) were
not in discord with the debasing influences at work on shore, and
after due allowance has been made, it cannot be regarded as a healthy
sign that modern tastes have to be catered for with such luxuriance,
and that steamship companies even go so far as to advertise their
graceful, stalwart ships as hotels. Not that one would wish to revert
to the hardships and utter discomforts which had to be endured by
the transatlantic passengers less than a hundred years ago, when the
ship, after contending against waves and wind, at last came staggering
into port to the intense relief of everyone concerned. Pitching and
rolling, washed fore and aft, swept from one gunwale to the other, a
hell afloat for the timid and sea-sick, and a source of the gravest
anxiety to her officers, she was too small to be equal to her task, too
barely furnished to make life other than just tolerable.
Cooped up in bad weather below, where ventilation was sadly lacking;
crowded with men, women and children going out to the New World to
try their fortunes; with hard, scanty sleeping accommodation that was
not even human in its comfort; gangways crowded with mean luggage,
and no proper commissariat department; no refrigerating machinery,
no preserved foods, but a medley of animals on deck to be killed and
consumed as required--if they were not washed overboard by the unkindly
Atlantic seas--it was no wonder that when at last the dragged-out agony
was ended the passengers stepped ashore with firm resolutions never
more to entrust themselves to the uncertain vagaries of the sea and its
ships.
[Illustration: CHARLES DICKENS’S STATE-ROOM ON THE “BRITANNIA.”
_By permission of the Cunard Steamship Co._]
When Charles Dickens crossed in January of 1842, not then was the
experience one of delight or anything approaching thereto. The ship
on which he travelled to America was the Cunard _Britannia_, bound
for Halifax and Boston with the mails. Of the other features of this
early steamship we have already spoken, but some of the impressions
which Dickens has left us regarding the comfort, or the want of it,
on board this ship are worthy of attention by those who find cause
for complaint even in the perfectly appointed travelling Atlantic
“hotels” of to-day. Something of the appearance of his state-room may
be seen by looking at the illustration facing this page, which is here
inserted by the courtesy of the Cunard Company. “That this state-room
had been specially engaged for ‘Charles Dickens Esquire and Lady,’”
he remarks in his “American Notes,” “was rendered sufficiently clear
even to my scared intellect by a very small manuscript announcing
the fact, which was pinned on a very flat quilt, covering a very
thin mattress, spread like a surgical plaster on a most inaccessible
shelf.” He speaks of his cabin as an “utterly impracticable, thoroughly
hopeless, and profoundly preposterous box.” What he thought of the
_Britannia’s_ saloon is depicted for us in no sparing terms. “Before
descending into the bowels of the ship,” he adds, “we had passed from
the deck into a long, narrow apartment, not unlike a gigantic hearse
with windows in the sides; having at the upper end a melancholy stove,
at which three or four chilly stewards were warming their hands; while
on either side, extending down its whole dreary length, was a long,
long table, over each of which a rack, fixed to the low roof, and
stuck full of drinking-glasses and cruet-stands, hinted dismally at
rolling seas and heavy weather.” What he would have thought of the
saloon and the state-rooms on the _Mauretania_, with their glaring
contrast to the accommodation on the lively little _Britannia_, we need
not stop to imagine. The fare in those days from Liverpool to Boston
was thirty-eight guineas. Nowadays, for one-half that sum life on an
Atlantic liner can be pleasant and luxurious.
As steamships became bigger, the conditions of travel became gradually
more tolerable, but it was not until the influence of the first White
Star _Oceanic_ that a revolution was made in these matters. Quite
apart from the superior qualities of her hull and engines she was
more thoughtfully arranged with a view to making the passenger’s life
at least as comfortable as was then thought possible. Some of these
improvements we have already noted in the course of our story, but it
is worth remembering that in the amelioration of the passenger’s lot
the White Star Line have not been in the rear. Among other items, they
have to their credit the honour of having originated on board ship the
placing of the saloon and passenger accommodation amidships, instead of
right aft; installing electric bells, providing separate chairs in the
saloon, instead of using the old-fashioned, uncomfortable high-backed
forms, which were thought good enough for the ocean voyager; installing
self-acting water-tight doors, supplying third-class passengers with
bedding, eating and drinking utensils--for in olden days the emigrant
had to provide not merely his own supply of food for the voyage, but
everything he required of all sorts excepting water. It was the White
Star Line which was the first to supply an elaborate system of Turkish
baths for first-class passengers. But it was the _Oceanic_ which
was the turning-point in steamship comfort. All else that has since
followed has been not a little influenced by this ship. For us to go
through a detailed list of the wonderful comforts which are obtainable
on board the modern passenger steamship would convey the impression
of reading through an advertisement catalogue. Already the reader is
in possession of some knowledge of the really wonderful equipment
which is to be found on the modern ocean-going steamship. Nothing has
been omitted that could well have been added. Nowadays, in spite of
the extravagant waste of space which such a proceeding involves, many
of the best steamships are fitted with single-berthed state-rooms,
so that to be thrust into acquaintanceship with a perfect stranger
is no longer essential for the whole voyage. Dickens’s “preposterous
box” has grown into an exceedingly comfortable apartment, and the
millionaire may hire for the voyage the regal suite with bedrooms
and dining-rooms, its fire-places, mirrors, sconces, bedsteads and
the rest, as perfect as in the most extravagant metropolitan hotels
in New York or London. With the ship’s smoke rooms, veranda cafés,
libraries, lounges, writing rooms, orchestras, telephones from the
state-rooms, lifts from one deck to the others, a newspaper printed
ready for him each morning as he comes down to breakfast with the
latest American and European news transmitted to the ship over-night by
wireless telegraphy; with gymnasia to keep him fit and well during the
voyage, with Turkish baths, a high-class cuisine, the opportunity of
dining either à la carte or table d’hôte without extra charge, whilst
all the time the good ship is breaking records each voyage to get him
back to mother earth as quickly as ever can be--what else is there left
to the ingenuity of man to devise for the increased comfort of the
much-pampered and still-grumbling passenger?
[Illustration: THE VERANDA CAFÉ OF THE “LUSITANIA.”
_From a Photograph. By permission of the Cunard Steamship Co._]
[Illustration: FIRST-CLASS DINING SALOON OF THE “ADRIATIC.”
_From a Photograph. By permission of Messrs. Ismay, Imrie & Co._]
The illustration facing page 300 shows the veranda café just alluded
to, which is placed high up in the sky on the _Lusitania_. Since it
faces aft, no inconvenience can be felt through the speed at which the
vessel is rushing through the air. But who that stood on the deck of
the _Clermont_ or the _Charlotte Dundas_ could ever have imagined that
this spacious café should form just one small section of a steamship?
It is the Germans who have to some extent set the pace within recent
years in steamship luxury. Anxious for the patronage of the wealthy
American who was accustomed to the luxurious comforts of the best
hotels, the German-American lines began to lead the way in showing that
the steamship could be made as glorious within as any shore building,
notwithstanding the restrictions necessarily laid upon an object that
is subjected to the buffetings of wind and wave. Low ceilings gave way
to high; simplicity was conquered by ornate decoration, and this in no
vulgar but an exceedingly artistic manner. Stereotyped arrangements
of saloons and cabins gave way to something more in accordance with
the requirements of good taste and elaborate comfort. A free use
of applied art by the highest craftsmen in paintings, carvings and
so on; magnificence in place of more or less ample comfort--these
have been the principles which have actuated the Teutonic internal
steamship arrangements ever since the ’nineties. The _Kaiser Wilhelm
der Grosse_ came as a sensation in this respect, and in regard to her
decorations alone was the handsomest vessel in the world. The rise of
German prosperity, and, therefore, the appearance of what economists
demonstrate to be the immediate sequel--an instant desire to expend
money in all sorts of self-indulgence--has been followed by a readiness
on the part of the steamship companies to put forth the greatest
material comfort that is practicable on board ship. German decorative
art was in a peculiarly happy position to be able to supply all that
was necessary to make a steel tank resemble a palace. Conventional
dolphins and anchors were ousted by mosaics and exquisite woodwork,
and a new sphere for what was original, but yet suitable, in art was
opened. On such ships as the _George Washington_ and the _Berlin_ it
is possible to regard a standard of applied art which cannot be easily
equalled, still less surpassed by anything of the kind ashore. It was
the German ships which were the first to break away from the convention
of the long tables which divided up the saloon, and to introduce a
number of round tables more in accordance with the interior of a modern
restaurant. And what has been found to be best in this respect in the
German ships has not been long in being copied in the rival national
lines.
[Illustration: DINING SALOON OF THE S.Y. “LIBERTY.”
_From a Photograph by W. A. Kirk & Sons, Cowes._]
[Illustration: GYMNASIUM OF THE S.Y. “LIBERTY.”
_From a Photograph by W. A. Kirk & Sons, Cowes._]
The White Star _Adriatic_, whose saloon is shown opposite page 300,
in addition to her many elements of floating luxury, has a number of
other features which are notable for any steamship. Besides her lifts,
she has a large Turkish bath establishment and a salt-water bath big
enough to swim in. Like some of the German ships, she has also a
gymnasium under the direction of a competent instructor, where one can
enjoy saddle exercise, or practise rowing mechanically. There are also
electric light baths and an orchestra of skilled musicians. But even
these un-shippy features are not confined to the big steamers, and the
illustrations opposite page 302 show respectively the gymnasium and
the dining-saloon of the steam yacht _Liberty_, one of the most modern
and luxurious yachts, which is owned by Mr. Pulitzer, the well-known
American millionaire newspaper proprietor.
But if the luxury of human desires is catered for on shipboard, so
also is personal life. Infectious disease has to be provided against,
especially in the case of ships carrying emigrants. Dispensaries and
hospitals are carried, with their proper equipment, and it is not so
long since the world was thrilled by the announcement that on one of
the swiftest mail liners a case of appendicitis manifested itself,
and had to be attended to without delay. When the moment arrived the
engines of the great ship were stopped in mid-Atlantic while, with
great courage and admirable nerve, the surgeon performed successfully
the delicate operation on the unfortunate man.
So also, in a manner entirely different, is the safety of the
passengers provided for, and to an extent that is not excelled even
by the fine railway systems on land. With two or three thousand souls
on board, all of whom could be sent into eternity in a few minutes,
besides large quantities of cargo and precious mails, it is no wonder
that not a thing is omitted that could conduce to the most efficient
preservation of life and matter. From the safety valves of the
engines to the elaborate apparatus on the navigating bridge, the word
“safeguard” is spelled out in every single detail. Some of the more
important essentials we have already spoken about, but there are others
that we must not omit to mention, which find a place in the up-to-date
steamship. Besides the duplicate steering gear, the elaborate system
of water-tight doors, water-tight double-bottoms, powerful pumping
engines, the life-boats, life-buoys, and life-belts--the first of
these being placed as high as possible, so that, in case of emergency,
they are as far above the water as can be--there is a fire alarm
installation which leads to the bridge-house, and a highly efficient
fire-extinguishing apparatus. With the introduction of electric light
in place of oil lamps no doubt the dangers of fire have been minimised;
but the hold and the bunkers must needs be kept well ventilated. On
the German liners and on the Fall River Line steamboats electric
thermostats are distributed over the principal parts of the ship and
connected with an electric fire-alarm system extending to every part of
the crew’s quarters, which enable the extinguishing apparatus to be set
working at once. Gas generated from chemicals which together possess
great extinguishing virtues, is introduced into burning hold or bunker
by means of an engine, so that one of the deadliest enemies of a ship
at sea is not merely capable of control, but even of extinction.
Having regard to the speed at which steamships are now compelled to
traverse the oceans, it is essential that all the recognised facilities
for accurate navigation are taken advantage of in the modern liner.
To prevent any possibility of mistake the engine-room telegraph is
provided with a means of replying, so that the commander is able to
tell whether the order has been understood. Further still, an apparatus
informs him whether the order has been correctly carried out, and in
the event of any of these complicated mechanisms breaking down, the
speaking tube is still available. Speed indicators to register the
number of revolutions made by the screws, mechanical logs, and deep-sea
sounding machines, Morse signalling lamps, powerful sirens (especially
useful in fog when in the vicinity of other shipping and the coast),
are all now employed to give to the ship a safe and speedy passage, and
to relieve the anxieties of the over-burdened modern captain.
But in two respects especially has electricity within the last few
years shown itself to be of the greatest service to the ship at sea.
Taking them in the reverse order of their chronology, there is first
of all the system of submarine signalling so recently installed. This
takes advantage of the fact that water is a conductor of sound, and
with a speed more than four times quicker than air. In the case of fog
overtaking a steamer approaching land, or the vicinity of a channel
marked by buoys or lightships, it is possible to obtain warning by
sound when sight is denied, and this at a distance of four or five
miles. The submarine bell is attached to buoy or lightship, whilst the
receiving apparatus is attached to the interior of the ship’s hull at
the bows. From there the signals are conveyed to the chart-house by
means of telephones. One receiver is placed on each bow inside the
plating of the ship between the keel and the water-line, so that the
bell may be located on either side. A very interesting instance of the
utility of submarine signalling was afforded recently in the case of
the _Kaiser Wilhelm II._, which, owing to a dense fog, was anchored off
Cherbourg. Her tender was awaiting her just outside the harbour, and
sounded her submarine bell to indicate the direction to be steered in
order that the big liner might make port. At a distance of no less than
fifteen miles away the _Kaiser Wilhelm II._ picked up the signals by
her receivers, and was enabled to find her way into the French harbour
by this means alone.
Still more wonderful is the invention of wireless telegraphy, which
has come to the ship as the greatest blessing and boon within recent
years. With the general principles of its working the reader is, no
doubt, already familiar, and the present volume need not enlarge upon
them, but the accompanying illustration will be found interesting as
showing the Marconi room with a telegraphist at work on a Cunarder.
For a distance of 2,000 miles from Liverpool wireless connection can
be maintained between the ship and the shore, whilst passing liners
many miles apart are enabled to communicate with each other to their
mutual benefit and safety. Whilst these pages are being printed a
transatlantic wireless service has been instituted between Europe
and America, and it is indisputable that the next naval war will be
considerably influenced by the employment of wireless gear on board
battleships, cruisers, scouts, and the bigger mosquito craft. Of the
invaluable aid which already the wireless system has been to the
steamship in peace we could give countless instances had we the space;
but the following will suffice to show its utility within the last two
or three years. On May 28th, 1907, the German liner _Kaiser Wilhelm
der Grosse_, whilst on her voyage was enveloped in a dense fog and
passed, without sighting, close to another steamer sailing in the same
direction. The German ship, however, heard the other’s sirens, and
knowing that the Cunard _Caronia_ was on the same track, and might run
some chance of collision with the unseen vessel, the German captain
sent a wireless message to the _Caronia_, and two hours and a half
later received a reply from the latter which showed that the third
steamer was on the Cunarder’s course, and might have been a danger to
her.
[Illustration: THE MARCONI ROOM ON A CUNARD LINER.
_From a Photograph. By permission of the Cunard Steamship Co._]
A clear case of the avoidance of costly salvage was afforded in April,
1910, when the Allan liner _Carthaginian_, which had left Liverpool a
week earlier for St. John’s, Newfoundland, was disabled at sea owing to
the breaking of a piston-rod. She was able by means of her “wireless”
to inform the same owners’ _Hesperian_ of her mishap, and the latter
received the news when a hundred miles west of Malin Head, County
Donegal. The _Hesperian_ thereupon went to her sister’s assistance, and
took the ship, with her 800 emigrants on board, in tow for the Clyde.
Still more interesting is the thrilling rescue which was obtained
from the sinking liner _Kentucky_ by the _Alamo_, which took place in
February, 1909. The following statement, taken from a daily newspaper
of the time, needs no embellishing, and the simple facts speak once
more for the triumphant victory which the new telegraphy has obtained
over some of the terrors with which the sea is inevitably associated:--
“A full statement obtained to-day from Mr. W. F. Maginnis, the
operator in the _Kentucky_, who sent the wireless message received by
the _Alamo_, is a most dramatic narrative. The wireless telegraphic
apparatus was installed in the _Kentucky_ just before her departure
on a 14,000-mile cruise round Cape Horn, and to it forty-five men owe
their lives.
“Early on Friday morning, during a heavy storm, the engineer informed
Mr. Maginnis that the ship was doomed. An hour later Mr. Maginnis got
into wireless communication with the _Alamo_, then about ninety miles
away, but not until noon was it possible for the captain to get an
exact observation of his position.
“‘Half an hour before that,’ says Mr. Maginnis, ‘the electrician came
to me and said that the water was creeping up and that the dynamo power
would soon be lost. All hands were then directed to abandon all other
work and devote themselves to keeping the water away from the dynamo.
The turbine engine and dynamo were wrapped in canvas and power was thus
preserved until the vital message was despatched.’
“When the _Alamo_ at 3.30 p.m. reached the _Kentucky_, the deck of the
sinking vessel was almost awash. The crew, despite the high seas, were
rescued by the boats without mishap, and when they had clambered on
board the _Alamo_ they immediately gave three cheers for Mr. Maginnis.
“The _Kentucky_ was insured for £14,000. Her seams opened wide during
the storm.”