THE SECOND MATE (OF A SAILING SHIP).
It may be taken for granted by the uninitiated that there is almost as
much difference to the beginner between taking charge of a steamer and
a sailing ship as there is between wheeling a perambulator and driving
a four-in-hand. In fact, I do not know but that I should be justified
in saying that there is more. The young officer of a steamer has only
to forget what gigantic forces he is controlling, be perfect in the
"rule of the road," and he may go on serenely. But a new second mate,
who has never in his life trimmed a sail to the changing wind, who
has never had to exercise his judgment as to the taking in or making
sail, whose knowledge, in fact, is as yet all theory, does not, as
a rule, have a very good time when he is first compelled to put his
theory to practical use. I was very fortunate. I joined my first ship
as second mate in Port Lyttelton, New Zealand, the _Bulwark_, of 1300
tons, belonging to Messrs. Shaw, Savill & Co. Her master was an elderly
gentleman named Seator, one of the most lovable of men, and withal a
first-rate seaman. He received me as if I had been a veteran, instead
of a man coming straight from the fo'c'sle. And the mate, who was also
elderly, was kind in a quiet way. I was then barely twenty-one years
of age. My first assumption of responsibility took place when the ship
was lying out in the bay ready to sail. The mate had unfortunately had
a severe fall, which confined him to his berth, and the master was
ashore. At about 10 p.m. the wind had increased to a gale, and anxious
watching had assured me that she was dragging her anchor. Therefore
I took upon myself to let go a second anchor. Just as I did so the
master arrived, and seemed gratified that I had acted so promptly. We
left the next morning, and I very proudly took the mate's usual place
on the forecastle while getting under way. Never once did the master
interfere with me in the conduct of the work, his apparent confidence
in me giving me such confidence in myself that I felt as if I could not
make a mistake. And when night came the good old man on going below and
leaving me in charge, said, "If you want me, don't hesitate to call me
at once. But don't call me if you can help it, as I am very tired; and,
besides, I want you to feel free to do your own work."
Under such cheery and sensible treatment I naturally developed rapidly,
as any man not absolutely worthless would have done. Yet I am sure that
had I met on this, my first venture, with the skipper I was unfortunate
enough to serve under two voyages after, I should have been completely
spoiled at the outset. I have, however, alluded to this matter before,
and gladly drop a very disagreeable subject.
The first duty of the second mate is to work his watch under
the orders of the mate or the skipper. With regard to what I may
call the secular work of the ship--repairs to rigging, cleaning,
painting, etc.--it is etiquette for the second mate to receive all
his instructions from the mate. But with regard to the working of the
ship, setting or taking in sail, the second mate, being in charge of
his watch while the mate is below, must receive any orders that may be
given from the skipper direct. Really the starboard watch, which is
always presided over by the second mate, is the master's watch, which
the second mate keeps for him; and while it would be a decided slight
to the mate for the master to come on deck during his (the mate's)
watch, and begin giving orders over his head as it were, there is
nothing of the kind involved in the master's doing so while the second
mate is on watch. It is a usual practice in sailing ships when any
large evolution is to be performed, such as tacking or wearing ship
(that is, turning her round in the first case against the wind, in the
second away from the wind), all hands shortening sail, getting under
way or coming to an anchor, for the master to take charge. Then the
mate goes forward, the second mate remains aft, and all general orders
are issued by the master. I was, however, second mate of one fine ship
where the master merely issued his order to tack or wear ship, as the
case might be, to the officer of the watch, whether myself or the mate,
and take no further part in the matter himself. This was very nice
indeed for me, for it gave me practice. Up till that time I had never
had an opportunity of putting a ship about; and although I knew very
well how to do it, there is nothing like practice. And some men are
never better than bunglers at this beautiful evolution.
Whether he is respected by his watch as an officer should be depends,
of course, upon himself in the first instance. Sailors are always keen
to take advantage of a second mate, whom they regard as "everybody's
dog;" and if he has not a masterful air, allied to a thorough knowledge
of his duties, their behaviour towards him will very soon degenerate
into downright insolence. Especially at night, when the sails require
trimming. They know as well as he does that it is essential that he
should have this done immediately it becomes necessary, and if he
hesitates to do it from any fear of their grumbling, they will never
do anything without a rumbling accompaniment of cursing, and he will
soon find himself in hot water with the skipper for neglecting his
most obvious duty. But if, on the other hand, he be ever so smart and
willing, and the skipper be continually finding fault with him before
the men, or taking work out of his hands, he will need all his patience
to save himself from becoming utterly discouraged. In very few ships
will he be allowed to do any navigation. Never once in the whole course
of my experience did I see a second mate "taking the sun," and, in
consequence, unless he be careful to practise in his watch below, he
will find his navigation soon growing rusty.
In large ships where a boatswain is carried his position is peculiar,
for the boatswain, being on deck all day, gets his orders from the
mate, and the second mate has no business to interfere with him unless
the yards want trimming or sail is to be made. And as in very few
large ships is it the practice for the second mate to stick to the
quarter-deck and attend solely to the handling of the ship by day as
well as by night, he is often at a loss what to do. He cannot work
under the boatswain; he cannot work with him, because there would be
a conflict of jurisdiction; he must find some little job of his own.
Where there is no boatswain this awkwardness does not arise. Here the
second mate must carry on the work in his watch, and he will be thought
all the more of if he be a good sailor-man. He will have to work as
hard as, generally harder than, the crew; but that will do him no harm,
rather good, for sailorizing is interesting work. Few sailors (who can
do it) ever growl at being put to a job of splicing or kindred work.
They feel it a dignity; and if you want to make a sailor quite happy
and contented, the envy of all his shipmates, put him on sailmaking. He
will never give any trouble, never shirk his work, and will seldom have
any objection to working overtime.
So much for the second mate's duties while at sea. It will at once be
seen that the best place for a second mate to get a thorough grip of
his profession is in a small sailing ship, although he will, of course,
look upon such a position only as a stepping-stone to something bigger
and better as soon as possible.
In harbour his duties are very clearly defined. Whenever any cargo
is being dealt with his place is in the hold, unless, indeed, it be
such a cargo as coal. He is held responsible for the careful stowage,
the careful discharge of cargo. In the majority of ports there are
professional stevedores, who have made the placing of cargo in ships'
holds their business, and understand it thoroughly. These are always
engaged where they can be got, for obvious reasons, chief among which
are the facts that good stowage makes a ship hold more, and that,
especially with certain cargoes, bad, careless stowage renders a ship
unseaworthy. But they always require careful watching, because there
are certain fundamental details which they will neglect in almost all
cases unless there be some one on the watch. Moreover, there are many
things, in a general cargo for instance, that are easy to pilfer, and
this necessitates a close watch being kept.
Where no stevedores are to be obtained, the second mate is expected
to be competent to stow the ship. And he then becomes, if he has
thoroughly mastered the details of the work, quite an important
personage, with nearly all hands under his command. Yet it must be said
that a young second mate suddenly called upon to stow a ship would be
very unfairly handicapped. His knowledge of the business would almost
certainly be theoretical; and to be suddenly expected to put it into
practice in an extensive manner, with perhaps twenty men under his
orders, would be a severe strain. It would not be lessened, either, by
the consciousness that most likely several of the men under his command
would have had considerable practice, and would be by no means backward
in their criticisms upon the young officer's movements.
Herein lies the essential difference between second mates in English
ships and those in American and Canadian vessels. Here, in the majority
of cases, the second mate is a youngster, gentlemanly, well educated,
but unpractised. In handling neither ships nor men has he had any
extended experience. He is really still at school, and he will often
be made to feel the truth of that statement very acutely. But in the
Yankee or Blue-nose ship the second mate will be generally found a
large man with horny fists and hairy chest, a voice of thunder, and a
will of iron. Long and arduous service at sea has raised him no higher
than this, for he thinks scornfully of "book-larnin';" but he is a
sailor of the very best type. As old seamen are wont to say, "Every
hair of his head's a rope-yarn, an' every drop of his blood Stockholm
tar." He never has any trouble with his men, for he will probably
begin the voyage by knocking a few of them down on the first shadowy
appearance of insubordination, which thereafter never dares to show
its head. Woe unto the sleepy man who, at the cry of "Lee-fore-brace"
in the middle watch, should heave himself slowly up from some
comfortable corner, and grunt loud enough to be heard, "---- and ----
the lee-fore-brace, an' the ship'n everybody aboard of her"! But such
a thing on board of a Yank or a Blue-nose is unthinkable. In the first
place, the unemployed members of the watch on deck would be well in
evidence near the break of the poop, marching up and down to keep
themselves awake--if, indeed, they were not at work scraping woodwork
bright--and on an order being given they would spring, without other
remark than a repetition of the order, cheerfully. No; the second mate
does not suffer from insubordinate men there.
One of my earliest recollections of the prowess of a second mate was
in Bombay, on board that ill-fated ship, sunk the other day by the
ironclad _Sanspareil_, the _East Lothian_. Her second mate, one of the
ordinary, mild, callow, just-out-of-his-apprenticeship type, had been
discharged, and the skipper had shipped a fresh one ashore who had been
for some time in Nova Scotian ships. He was a splendid specimen of a
seaman, not too tall, but finely proportioned, and of a very pleasant
face. The first morning he was on board we were washing decks under
the boatswain's direction. Mr. Eaton, the new second mate, was having
a look round the ship, and strayed forward, where two men were passing
water out of the big wash-deck tub. As Mr. Eaton passed, one of them,
carelessly slinging a bucket towards the other, dropped it, cutting
the deck badly with its edge. With a glance at the new officer, he
burst out into furious cursing at the other man for not catching it,
and wound up with a few remarks about the ship and all on board, as
the custom is in such exercises. Mr. Eaton turned quietly to him, and
said, "If you don't shut that foul head up, I'll shut it for you."
The man, a huge New York nondescript, stared aghast for a moment, and
then, deceived by Mr. Eaton's pleasant look, strode up to him, swearing
horribly, and threatening to cut his liver out, among other pleasant
things. For all answer the second mate leapt at him, seizing him by the
throat and waistband, and next moment he was flying over the rail into
the sea! Turning swiftly, Mr. Eaton was just in time to catch the other
man in mid-rush at him with a squarely-planted blow on the chin, which
landed him a clucking heap in the scuppers. But by this time the other
men had seen the fray, and rushed forward, shouting, "Kill him!" with
many lurid accompaniments. The boatswain did not stir to interfere,
and presently Eaton was the centre of a howling gang threatening his
life. But he had armed himself with a "norman," a handy iron bar from
the windlass, and none of them dare face him with that terrible weapon.
The skipper and the mate came rushing forward, and, like sensible men,
ranged themselves by the side of the second mate. In two minutes the
whole tone of that ship was altered. It was never again necessary to
resort to violence, for the men were respectful and willing, whereas on
the passage out the unhappy second mate was afraid for his very life to
give an order at night for fear of the volley of abuse to which he was
invariably subjected by his watch. So he neglected or, rather, put off
things which he should have done, until the skipper could stand it no
longer, and gave him a severe scolding, and at his request discharged
him in Bombay, a broken-spirited, almost worthless young man.
I earnestly hope that it will not be supposed from this that I love
bullying or violence, or would advocate it. But where there is no
weight of force behind an order, men will always be found to disobey or
neglect it; and in the British Mercantile Marine it will often be found
that a promising young officer's career is ruined just because he has
once allowed a truculent bully to tell him to "go to hell," and has not
knocked that man down. Often and often my blood has boiled when I have
been before the mast to hear the language used by my shipmates to the
second mate, who was only doing his duty in giving necessary orders at
night. Foremast hands will growl at this, I know full well; but they
_know_ it is true. And it is a shameful thing that in ships where a
man is simply treated as a dog, knocked down and jumped upon for half
a word or even a wry look, the discipline should be perfect, the work,
far harder than in any British ship, be smartly and willingly done;
while in our own ships, where such brutality is impossible, and the
work is reasonable, except in cases of emergency, discipline is almost
unknown, and officers are subjected to the foulest abuse by men who
thus take a mean advantage of our kindly laws.
I have dwelt upon this at so much length, because I do believe that
it has a most distinct bearing upon the most important question
concerning our Mercantile Marine of to-day. I allude to the matter
of the employment of foreign seamen. Foreign seamen, especially
Scandinavians, are not only biddable, they do not growl and curse at
every order given, or seize the first opportunity to get drunk and
neglect their work in harbour. Occasionally a truculent Norseman will
be found who will develop all the worst characteristics of our own
seamen, usually after a long service in British ships. And he is then a
bad man to deal with. But insubordination in the absence of any means
of maintaining discipline is a peculiarly British failing. There are
no finer seamen in the world than British seamen, English, Irish, or
Scotch does not matter; but they must have discipline. If any proof of
this be needed, I have only to point to the _personnel_ of the Navy.
There are no aliens there. And for smartness, for the ability to rise
to the occasion, and do deeds at which even our enemies stand amazed,
they have no equals. Why? Because no breach of discipline can be made
without its being swiftly followed by its due punishment. At least that
_was_ the reason. Now, I believe that a race of men-o'-war's men have
arisen who are capable of maintaining discipline among themselves,
having so high a pride in their service, that they do not need any
disciplinary restraint to keep them what they are--the finest body
of men in the world. A state of things exists where, for the pure
joy of service, the blue-jacket yields ready, implicit obedience to
the youngest wearer of the Queen's uniform, even though the obeying
one may, and probably will, be so able a seaman as to be capable of
training, in all the intricate duties of a man-of-war, any officer on
board. Loyal, earnest, and fearless, the man-o'-war's man of to-day is
the fine flower of the sea; and if only it were possible to raise up
such a body in the Merchant Service, no price would be too high to pay
for the benefits it would confer upon Great Britain.
I have dwelt upon this subject more fully in this chapter, for the
reason that I know there is more of the spirit of insubordination in
the second mate's watch than in the mate's; because I feel sure that,
if the second mate were only more thought of and more loyally supported
by masters and owners, something might be done to make our Merchant
sailors a more decent lot all round. At least, so it appears to me.