BUILDING AN EAST INDIAMAN
A REMINISCENCE OF 1856
_Build me straight, O worthy Master,
Staunch and strong, a goodly vessel
That shall laugh at all disaster,
And with wave and whirlwind wrestle._
--Longfellow.
The building of a wooden East Indiaman recalls much of what was
romantic in the history of British shipping--much of what was
essentially British in the art of the craftsman. The old shipwright
with his black wooden toolbox slung over his shoulder, or plying his
adze or the caulking iron, is a type of a British artisan unhappily
now becoming extinct. He was no ordinary workman following day after
day the same monotonous job, for his work called for the constant
exercise of his own individuality, of his powers of observation, and
his ingenuity in the application of the teachings of experience; the
selection of suitable timber, of proper scantling, oak crooks for the
floors, aprons and knees, the curved timber for the futtocks, all
called for skill and knowledge, and he had to keep constantly in view,
when building, the necessity for giving proper shifts to the scarfs
and the butting of the planks--all demanding not only thought, but
daily presenting new problems which only a trained eye and experience
could solve.
The rhythm of the old shipbuilding yard had a peculiar charm and
attraction; it was not the monotonous deafening roar of the hydraulic
riveter heard in the modern yard, but the music of the adze and the
humming of the caulking chisel made a sort of harmony not unpleasant
to the ear; while the all-prevailing smell of tar imported a nautical
flavour which is entirely absent from the iron shipbuilding yard. We
now only think in terms of angle iron, plates, butt straps, and rivets
which follow one orthodox pattern. The iron ship is but a tank with
shaped ends, or a girder, or a series of box girders, for every deck,
and every row of pillaring constitutes a girder; their size and shape
are all set out by the draftsman in the drawing office, the work in
the yard is purely mechanical; the old skill of the craftsman is not
called into play.
It was my good fortune, when I left school in 1856, to spend some time
in the shipbuilding yard of George Cox & Son, of Bideford, in order
that I might obtain some knowledge of the craft. The firm were engaged
building the "Bucton Castle," of 1,200 tons register, for the Calcutta
trade, to class thirteen years A1, the highest class at Lloyd's. It is
of my experience in building that ship of which I purpose writing.
It will occur to many that Bideford was a strange out-of-the-way
place for a shipyard. Bideford we only associate with Charles Kingsley
and "Westward Ho!" with its long bridge of twenty-three arches, a
bridge which has the repute of being a soul-saving bridge, an
alms-giving bridge, a dinner-giving bridge, a bridge which owns lands
in many parishes; but Bideford, with its wide expanse of sands and
tidal bores, is about the last place to suggest shipbuilding. But
Bideford, like Plymouth and Devonport in olden days, was in close
proximity to large forests of oak and other woods essential to wooden
shipbuilding.
The first thought of the builder of a wooden ship was to secure his
timber, good natural oak crooks for the floor timbers, knees and
aprons, and the futtocks forming the turn of the bilge, and good
square timber for the frames, beams, etc. Not only had this to be
carefully selected free from rends and shakes, but it had to be piled
up in the yard and seasoned. In the same way elm timber required for
the sheathing, and the pine necessary for the decks and inside
ceiling, all required seasoning before being worked up.
The plans of the proposed ship having been prepared and duly laid off
in the drawing loft, the first step was to provide the blocks upon
which she was to be built, and the ways from which, when completed,
she would be launched. Upon these blocks the keel was laid, usually
constructed of elm, which is tough and does not split. The keel was in
several lengths, fastened together with long scarfs, bolted through.
On each side a rabbit or groove was cut to receive the garboard strake
(the first strake of planking). On the top of the keel the floor
timbers were laid across alternately, long and short, and on the top
of the floors the keelson was bolted. The keelson ran the full length
of the ship. There were also sister keelsons on either side, covering
the ends of the floors. To the end of the floors the first futtocks
were scarped and bolted, and these formed the turn of the bilge, and
above came the timbers forming the frame. The selection of the timber
required for the floors and futtocks needed a very skilled eye; pieces
of timber which would require the least dressing must be chosen, and
the piles of timber were examined over and over again to find the
piece which would give the nearest approach to the curve required when
the ship was in frame. Then came the planking or sheathing. This had
to be carefully worked in proper shifts, to prevent the butts of the
planking coming into close proximity. The upper strakes or sheer
strakes and the bilge strakes were always doubled. In a similar way
the interior of the ship was lined or ceiled, all with a view to
strength. 'Tween deck beams and main deck beams were thrown across and
rounded up, to give strength and camber to the decks. They were
fastened to longitudinal timbers running along the sides of the ship,
called shelfs, and these shelfs were secured to the framing of the
ship by wooden knees reinforced in high-class ships by iron knees. The
structure was fastened by wooden treenails and metal through-bolts of
copper or yellow metal. The butt end of every plank was secured by a
metal bolt, in addition to treenails securing it to every timber.
I have said enough to prove that the shipwright of the olden time had
to exercise more individuality and skill than is necessary to-day.
The shipbuilder's work was not completed when he had launched his
ship; she had to be rigged and fitted out, and copper-sheathed to
prevent the ravages of worms and marine insects; and in course of time
the ship had to be salted, the spaces between the frames being filled
with rock salt to preserve the timber from decay.
American ships, which were very numerous and handsome in design, were
usually built with hacmatac frames and pine sheathing, and Canadian
vessels were built entirely of soft wood with iron fastenings, and
rarely received a higher class than nine years A1.
Although the reminiscences of the old wooden shipbuilding days are
pleasant and interesting, if we had been limited to wooden ships the
progress of commerce and the spread of civilisation would have been
greatly hindered. It was not possible to build a wooden ship of over
4,000 tons--I think this was the size of the "Great Republic"--and the
number of vessels required to lift the merchandise now requiring to be
carried by sea would have exhausted our available forests of timber.
The iron and steel ships have saved the situation, not only enabling
us to move the cargoes the world requires, but enabling us to
construct steamers of large size and great speed which have built up a
passenger trade which, even sixty years ago, was never dreamed of.
It is remarkable that in land travel, just as the growth of the
population demanded it, we have had improvements in the mean of
locomotion--the pack-horse, the wheel, the steam engine, the railway,
and electric traction have followed each other. So at sea--from the
ancient galley to the wooden sailing ship, the clipper ship, the
paddle steamer, the screw steamer, the high-pressure engine, the
condensing engine, the double and triple expansion engine, the
turbine, and we have in front of us looming largely oil fuel, to be
followed probably by some form of electric propulsion. From this it
would almost seem as if a Providence provided for us transport
facilities in proportion to our needs for the conveyance of our
products and for travel.
I was interested in recently visiting Bideford to find that the old
shipbuilding slips still exist--although unused for nearly fifty
years. They have this year been bought by the firm of Hanson & Co.,
who have a small ship under construction.