courses are steered; the sextant by which observations of the sun, moon
and stars are taken, and through which the latitude is ascertained;
the chronometer by which the longitude is determined; the log, which
measures the ship’s speed; the chart on which the ship’s position is
daily traced; the barometer which gives the weight of the atmosphere
and warning of coming storms; the hydrometer which shows the saltness
of the sea; the thermometer which tells the temperature of the ocean;
and the sounding lead which gives the depth of water and the nature of
the bottom over which the ship is sailing.
The compass, the first in importance to the navigator, was known to the
Chinese centuries before the Christian era, and was brought to Europe
by the renowned Asiatic traveler, Marco Polo, in the latter part of the
thirteenth century. And though improved in many ways the property of
polarity in the lodestone, still remains the leading essential.
Careful steering, and good charts are next to the compass. But while
sights and observations, the study of the barometer, thermometer and
hydrometer should all be faithfully attended to, the lead line will
hold its place as one of the important guides to navigation until
something is invented whereby the master mariner can penetrate the fog
and clouds that obscure the sun and other celestial objects.
The neglect of taking proper soundings has caused the loss of more
ships and lives than can be enumerated.
In days long past the anxious navigator has found relief by resorting
to the use of the lead line. The story of St. Paul’s shipwreck tells
how the sailors on his vessel deemed that they drew near to land and
that they resorted to the use of the lead and line. “When they had gone
a little farther, they sounded again and found fifteen fathoms.”
There are seamen who have followed the sea for years and have had no
experience with the lead line or any sounding apparatus. They have
been on long voyages where it was not necessary to take soundings. I
have sailed from land to land more than six months to reach our port
of discharge, and during that time the lead has not been cast. Again,
during a trip on a three-masted schooner from La Guayra to Maracaibo,
we were using the lead as much as the compass in our navigation, even
on this short passage.
Although a sailor may have no experience with the lead still he has
a knowledge of its use in soundings. Long before I had ever taken a
cast I knew how it should be done. My first experience of the deep-sea
lead was on the Bermudan brig _Excelsior_. We were drawing near to the
American coast bound in to New York, when we were enveloped in thick
fog. Our captain was a competent navigator, and to make sure of his
whereabouts after sailing without the sun or stars for three days, it
became necessary for him to seek information from the bottom of the
sea. Although there was no danger in getting a cast of the lead, as
there was very little wind, still on some occasions I have seen all
hands called and sail shortened, involving much labor at the peril of
life.
I was once on a large American ship where for a whole night we were
standing off the Delaware Capes in an easterly gale, and were forced
to use deep-sea lead. At considerable peril and much loss of rest for
the crew, the ship was rounded to the wind in the face of a dangerous
sea, so as to check her speed. Twice during that night we had to haul
up the mainsail and lay the mainyard back. At such a time every man
is expected to know his duty. Should the night be as dark as pitch,
an able seaman must take the lead, weighing twenty-eight pounds, on
the forecastle head. He must see that the small cavity in the lower
end is “armed”--filled--with tallow. This reveals the nature of the
bottom when the lead is hauled aboard. It may be gravel, sand, mud,
but whatever it is, it will aid the master in his navigation, as the
nature of the bottom of the coast is marked on the chart.
In the meantime others had manned the rail, and starting from the
quarter they pass the line along on the outside of the ship, till the
end reaches the man on the forecastle head. Here he bends on the end of
the line to the lead by reeving the eye splice on the end of the line,
through the grummet on the top of the lead, allowing the lead to drop
through the eye splice.
All being ready, the man on the forecastle head throws the lead
overboard, well to windward, shouting as he does so, “Heave.” The man
nearest to him feels the tug on the line, and he then throws what he
has in his hand to windward making sure the bight of the line is clear
of all eyebolts, and shouts, “Watch, there, watch.” Then the next man
as he feels the strain lets go of what he is holding and shouts the
signal, “Watch, there, watch,” and so on until the line reaches the
leadsman aft. Then if the lead has not struck the bottom he pays out
the line and tries to get a sounding. Usually there is an officer aft
at the line. He feels that the strain is released and taps the lead two
or three times to make sure of his soundings, and then notes the depth
by the marks on the line.
The deep-sea lead is about one hundred and twenty fathoms, the first
twenty fathoms of it being sometimes marked like the hand lead of which
I shall write later. Beginning at twenty fathoms, there is a small
piece of cod line with two knots on it, thirty fathoms, the same with
three knots, forty fathoms with four knots, and so on up to one hundred
fathoms. Half-way between each there is a strip of leather. The length
of the lead itself is not counted in this measurement, so the ship gets
the benefit of the depth plus the length of the lead. Usually a small
snatchblock is on the mizzen backstay for the purpose of hauling the
lead aboard. At night the officer of the watch carries the lead to the
binnacle light and then reports to the captain the depth of the cast
and the nature of the bottom on the tallow.
I once saved a collection from the bottom of the River Rio de la Plata.
It was a curious assortment of bits of shell and teeth of small fish.
I have heard old sailors tell of finding rare coins, finger rings and
pieces of human bones fastened on the tallow of the deep-sea lead.
It is a doleful sound to hear each man along the rail shouting, “Watch,
there, watch!” I once saw the second mate of ship leave the poop, and,
running down to the main deck, hustle a fellow along who was slow in
getting aft to haul in the lead line. After the lead was aboard he
received this warning: “When I say come I want you to run, and when I
say run I want you to fly, and when you fly, flap your wings or I’ll
make you.” This had a good effect, for before the end of the voyage he
lost his easy gait and could “hop light and come a running” as well as
any on board.
The hand lead line is between twenty-five and thirty fathoms long,
according to the height of vessel from the water, but only the first
twenty fathoms are used in sounding. I have seen the planks on the deck
of an English square rigger marked for the purpose of measuring a new
lead line, but on vessels in which I have sailed this was done with
a three-foot rule and a bit of chalk. A good-sized eye is spliced in
one end, and after wetting the line it is stretched, measured and then
marked. The hand lead line consists of nine marks and eleven deeps.
Beginning at two fathoms, a piece of leather with two ends is tucked
into the strand of the line, at three fathoms there are three ends of
leather; at five fathoms a piece of white calico, at seven a piece of
red bunting, at ten a strip of leather with a hole in it, at thirteen a
piece of blue cloth, at fifteen a piece of white calico, at seventeen
a piece of red bunting, and at twenty fathoms a bit of cord with two
knots.
On some lead lines instead of white calico or blue cloth, bunting of
the same color is used, but for accurate soundings on a dark night, the
leadsman can put the mark in his mouth and with his tongue tell whether
it is cloth, calico or bunting, or he may by feeling the marks tell the
difference if his fingers are not too cold. The fathoms which are not
marked are termed “deeps.” They are 1, 4, 6, 8, 9, 11, 12, 14, 16, 18,
19.
If a sailing ship is in thick fog close to land the officer of the
watch may call a man aft and have him take a cast of the hand lead, or
he may do it himself, but on some ocean steamers and yachts the lead is
in constant use on entering and leaving harbor.
On a war vessel as soon as the ship draws near to the channel the
leadsman is at his post. He fastens a large canvas apron to the
shrouds of the rigging so that it will hold him as he stretches his
body well over on the outside of his ship. The apron reaching to his
feet, protects him from the water falling from the line. Making fast
one end of the line to a shroud he takes hold of the other end about
nine feet from the lead, and then swings the lead backward and forward
till there is motion enough for him to swing it over his head two or
three times. He must then let it go at the right time, so that it will
drop close alongside under the bow. By the time the vessel has reached
the place where the lead sunk it has had time to reach the bottom.
As the line comes up and down under the leadsman he taps the bottom
smartly and shouts the depth of water to the officer on the bridge.
If he sees the piece of red bunting on the surface of the water he
calls out, “By the mark seven.” If it should be some distance from the
water, he uses his judgment and calls “A quarter less seven,” or “And
a half six,” “And a quarter six.” Perhaps he feels safe in believing
the mark seven is a good fathom from the water and calls “By the deep
six,” and so on through the nine marks and eleven deeps, he calls the
soundings he receives. Generally the hand lead weighs seven pounds,
but when the vessel is going at a good rate of speed a fourteen pound
lead is necessary. It requires much practice to become a good leadsman.
The starboard leadsman throws the lead with his right hand and the port
with his left.
On a certain war vessel we had a seaman who was accustomed to throw the
lead from the starboard chains. He was changed to the foretop and his
first cast of the lead from the port chains caused a man to go on the
sick list for several days. Instead of the lead dropping on the outside
of the ship it landed on the starboard side of the forecastle head,
falling on the feet of a fireman. It was well the force of the lead was
broken by first striking the fish davit or it would have broken the
man’s head.
Whenever the apprentices were instructed in casting the lead we took
good care to keep out of the way, as there was no telling where
the lead would drop, for it might go all over the forecastle head
instead of the sea. A good leadsman is a valuable man. A part of the
examination a merchant sailor receives when he joins the navy is a cast
of the lead.
I recall the first time I saw Lord Kelvin’s (Sir William Thomson,)
sounding machine used. I was then on a war vessel. The boatswain’s mate
sent me aft to assist the quartermaster in taking a cast of the lead.
This machine consists of about three hundred fathoms of galvanized
wire to which is attached a glass tube about fifteen inches long by
three quarters of an inch in diameter. This tube contains a secret
chemical compound on the principal of the thermometer. To the tube is
fastened a rod of small iron called the sinker, which, when sounding
takes the tube to the bottom where the density of the water acting on
the chemical therein shows when carefully read on the indicator, also
attached to the tube, the exact depth of the water.
With the ship going at full speed ahead, the quartermaster, aided by
two men to attend the brakes and wind in the wire, it ascertained
correctly the depth of one hundred fathoms in less than ten minutes.
The seamen to-day feel kindly disposed to this sounding machine which
has removed the hardship of the deep-sea lead, and navigators the world
over feel greatly indebted to Lord Kelvin, not only for his sounding
machine, but because in many ways he has done more than any other man
to advance the science of navigation.
RHYMES FORETELLING
WEATHER
Rhymes Foretelling Weather
There is considerable truth in the rhymes used by seamen in detecting
signs of a coming storm. Although it matters little to a modern steamer
what the weather is, as long as it keeps clear, still if such an
up-to-date craft is in the hurricane regions during the season, it will
give the master much anxiety.
Tropical cyclones generally originate in about latitude 10° north or
south of the equator. The sign of an approaching hurricane is the ugly
threatening appearance which comes ahead of most severe gales, and
increases in severity at every gust. Sometimes a long heavy swell and
confused sea will precede the hurricane, rolling from the direction
in which the hurricane is approaching. The halo around the sun, the
moist and heavy air with squalls of misty rain, the light feathery
whitish glare of the sky all give evidence that bad weather is at hand.
In northern latitudes a mackerel sky moving rapidly from the westward
indicates an approaching westerly gale. The mare’s tail is another sign
of a coming storm. Oily looking clouds tell of wind, while soft ones
speak of fine weather. High upper clouds crossing the sun and moon in
a direction opposite to that from which the wind is blowing indicate a
change of wind coming from that direction. When the first glimmer of
dawn appears over a bank of clouds instead of the horizon, it foretells
wind. When the first streaks of light appear on the horizon expect fine
weather. A rapid rise of the barometer indicates unsettled weather. A
slow, steady rise foretells fair weather. A rapid fall a heavy gale
with rain.
“A red sky in the morning,
Sailors take warning,
A red sky at night,
The sailors delight.”
The same rhyme answers for the rainbow as it does for the sky.
In squally weather this old doggerel has its truth.
“When the rain’s before the wind
Topsail halliards you must mind,
When the wind’s before the rain,
Soon you may make sail again.”
* * * * *
“At sea with low and falling glass,
Soundly sleeps the careless ass.
Only when it’s high and rising,
Safely rests the careful wise one.”
* * * * *
“Evening red and morning grey,
Are excellent signs of a very fine day.”
* * * * *
“Mackerel sky and mare’s tails
Make lofty ships carry low sails.”
* * * * *
The doggerel for the barometer is:
“Quick rise after low
Foretells stronger blow.
Long foretold, long last,
Short notice soon past.”
The flight of the sea gull is also an indication of the weather.
“The wind will blow hard when the gull comes ashore.”
* * * * *
“Sea gull, sea gull, sit on the sand,
It’s never good weather when you’re on the land.”
RULES OF THE ROAD AT SEA
Rules of the Road at Sea
The rules governing the direction which ships may take at sea are very
clearly defined by the international laws of all maritime countries,
and when violated by masters of either steam or sailing vessels, are
very drastically punished. If a collision occurs by disregarding the
rule of the road at sea, the ship so doing is held responsible for all
damage, and in case, as it sometimes happens, lives are sacrificed, the
master of the ship at fault is tried before the court of the country in
whose jurisdiction the casualty happens for manslaughter, and punished
as a common criminal. For these reasons, “Rules of the Road” as they
are termed, are strictly followed by most navigators.
When a ship is at sea, the officer in charge of the deck is usually
expected to keep a bright lookout. A following ship must always keep
clear of a ship ahead. If the weather is foggy the steam whistle is
periodically blown. But foggy or clear, good weather or bad, at sundown
all lights are in their places and the lookout man takes his stand in
the crows nest. The lights of a steamer at sea, electricity being now
much used, are a white light on the foremast head, a green light on
the starboard bow or bridge, and a red light on the port, all of which
have clearly defined significations, and to the initiated speak a plain
language, which is thus poetically put by some ancient nautical genius.
At sea, two steamships meeting:--
“When all three lights I see ahead,
I port my helm and show my red.”
Two steamships passing:--
“Green to green or red to red.
Perfect safety, go ahead.”
Two steamships crossing:--
“If to my starboard, red appear,
It is my duty to keep clear
To act as judgment says is proper;
To port, or starboard, back or stop her.
But when upon my port is seen
A steamer’s starboard light of green,
There’s naught for me to do but see,
That green to port, keeps clear of me.
Both in safety and in doubt,
I always keep a bright lookout;
In danger, with no room to turn,
I ease her, stop her, go a-stern.”
For sailing vessels, the rule of the road is:--
“On starboard tack, with yards braced tight,
See that your red and green are bright,
For every ship that’s in your way,
Must clear your track both night and day.
But if on the port tack you steer,
Stand by! for you must then keep clear
Of every close hauled ship ahead,
No matter whether green or red.”
SIGNALLING AT SEA
Signalling at Sea
A ship desiring to hold a conversation with another ship while on the
deep must first display the flag of the nation to which she belongs.
The other ship immediately hoists the flag of her country. The first
ship then begins the conversation which can be carried on indefinitely.
Eighteen flags of various shapes and colors constitute the
international “Code of Signals.” It is a most interesting mathematical
fact that, with this small number of flags, and never more than four
displayed at any one time, any amount of conversation can be kept up;
and no fewer than 78642 questions can be asked and answered. When the
new “Code of Signals,” consisting of the whole alphabet is put into
general use, the number of questions will be more than doubled.
In signalling at night the conversation is much more limited, and is
carried on by means of various colored lights, by guns and rockets.
The national ensign upside down, or in its absence any flag or token
unusually displayed from mast or yard signifies distress and need of
assistance, and at night a rocket has the same meaning. Any vessel
seeing such signals at a day or night must, if able, go immediately
to give relief, and is expected to do all in its power to render
assistance in food or the saving of life. The towing of a distressed
ship to port or safe anchorage is optional and cannot be insisted on.
TRANSCRIBER’S NOTES:
Italicized text is surrounded by underscores: _italics_.
Obvious typographical errors have been corrected.
Inconsistencies in hyphenation have been standardized.
Archaic or variant spelling has been retained.