A MAN OVERBOARD!
The strange and almost savage ceremonies used at sea on crossing the
equator have been so often described that a voyager, at this time of
day, may be well excused for omitting any minute account of such wild
proceedings. The whole affair, indeed, is preposterous in its
conception, and, I must say, brutal in its execution. Notwithstanding
all this, however, I have not only permitted it to go on in ships
which I commanded, but have even encouraged it, and set it agoing,
when the men themselves were in doubt. Its evil is transient if any
evil there be, while it certainly affords Jack a topic for a month
beforehand and a fortnight afterwards; and if so ordered as to keep
its monstrosities within the limits of strict discipline, which is
easy enough, it may even be made to add to the authority of the
officers, instead of weakening their influence.
In a well-regulated ship, within one hour from the time when these
scenes of riot are at their height, order is restored, the decks are
washed and swabbed up, the wet things are hung on the clothes' lines
between the masts to dry; and the men, dressed in clean trousers and
duck frocks, are assembled at their guns for muster, as soberly and
sedately as if nothing had happened to discompose the decorous
propriety of the ship's discipline. The middies, in like manner, may
safely be allowed to have their own share of this rough fun, provided
they keep as clear of their immediate superiors as the ship's company
keep clear of the young gentlemen. And I must do the population of the
cockpit the justice to say, that, when they fairly set about it,
maugre their gentleman-like habits, aristocratical sprinklings, and
the march of intellect to boot, they do contrive to come pretty near
to the honest folks before the mast in the article of ingenious
ferocity. The captain, of course, and, generally speaking, all the
officers keep quite aloof, pocketing up their dignity with vast care,
and ready, at a moment's warning, to repress any undue familiarity. As
things proceed, however, one or two of the officers may possibly
become so much interested in the skylarking scenes going forward as to
approach a little too near, and laugh a little too loud, consistently
with the preservation of the dignity of which they were so uncommonly
chary at first starting. It cannot be expected, and indeed is not
required, that the chief actors in these wild gambols, stripped to the
buff, and shying buckets of water at one another, should be confined
within very narrow limits in their game. Accordingly, some mount the
rigging to shower down their cascades, while others squirt the
fire-engine from unseen corners upon the head of the unsuspecting
passer-by. And if it so chances (I say chances) that any one of the
"commissioned nobs" of the ship shall come in the way of these
explosions, it is served out to him like a thunder-storm, "all
accidentally," of course. Well; what is he to do? He feels that he has
indiscreetly trusted himself too far; and even if he has not actually
passed the prescribed line, still he was much too near it, and the
offence is perhaps unintentional. At all events, it is of too trifling
a nature; and, under the peculiar circumstances of the moment, to make
a complaint to the captain would be ridiculous. Having, therefore, got
his jacket well wet, and seeing the ready means of revenging himself
in kind, he snatches up a bucket, and, forgetting his dignity, hurls
the contents in the face of the mid who has given him a sousing but
two seconds before! From that moment his commission goes for nothing,
and he becomes, for the time being, one of the biggest Billy-boys
amongst them. The captain observing him in this mess, shrugs his
shoulders, walks aft, muttering, "It's all your own fault, Mr.
Hailtop; you've put yourself amongst these mad younkers; now see how
they'll handle you!"
Nothing, I confess, now looks to me more completely out of character
with our well-starched discipline than a "staid lieutenant" romping
about the booms, skulling up the rigging, blowing the grampus, and
having it blown upon him by a parcel of rattle-pated reefers. But I
remember well in the Volage being myself so gradually seduced by this
animating spectacle of fun, that, before I knew where I was, I had
crossed the rope laid on the deck as a boundary between order and
disorder, and received a bucket of cold water in each ear, while the
spout of a fire-engine, at the distance of two feet, was playing full
in my eyes. On turning my head round to escape these cataracts, and
to draw breath, a tar-brush was rammed half-way down my throat!
Far different was the scene, and very different, of course, my
deportment, four or five years afterwards on the same spot, when,
instead of being the junior lieutenant, I was the great gun of all,
the mighty master-nob of the whole party, that is to say, the captain
himself. I was then in command of the Lyra, a ten-gun sloop-of-war;
and after the shaving operations were over, and all things put once
more in order, I went on board the Alceste frigate to dine with my
excellent friend and commanding officer, the late Sir Murray Maxwell.
Lord Amherst, the ambassador to China, was on board, and in great glee
with the sight of what had been enacted before him; for although, as I
have always said, these scenes are not of a nature to bear agreeable
description, they certainly are amusing enough to see--for once.
We soon sat down to dinner; and there was, of course, a great deal of
amusement in telling the anecdotes of the day, and describing Father
Neptune's strange aspect, and his still stranger-looking family and
attendants. I ventured to back one of my figures against all or any of
theirs, if not for monstrosity, at least for interest of another kind.
Our dripping Neptune in the Lyra was accompanied, as usual, by a huge
she-monster representing Amphitrite, being no other than one of the
boatswain's mates dressed up with the main-hatchway tarpaulin for a
cloak, the jolly-boat's mizen for a petticoat, while two half-wet
swabs furnished her lubberly head with ringlets. By her side sat a
youth, her only son Triton, a morsel of submarine domestic history
ascertained by reference previously made to Lempriere's Dictionary.
This poor little fellow was a great pet amongst the crew of the brig,
and was indeed suspected to be entitled by birth to a rank above his
present station, so gentle and gentleman-like he always appeared. Even
on this occasion, when disfigured by paint, pitch, and tar, copiously
daubed over his delicate person, to render him fit company for his
papa old Neptune, he still looked as if his ill-favoured parents had
stolen him, and were trying in vain to disguise their roguery by
rigging him up in their own gipsy apparel.
It was very nearly dark when I rowed back to the Lyra, which had been
hanging for the last half hour on the frigate's weather-quarter, at
the distance of a cable's length, watching for my return. The wind was
so light, and the brig so close, that no signal was made to heave to;
indeed I had scarcely rowed under the Alceste's stern, on my way back,
before it was necessary to call out, "In bow!" The rattle of the oar
on the thwarts gave the earliest notice of my approach to the people
on board the little vessel, and I could hear the first lieutenant
exclaim in haste, "Attend the side! Where are the sides-men?"
Scarcely had these words been spoken, when I heard a splash in the
water, followed by a faint cry of distress and despair. In the next
instant the brig was hove about, and the stern-boat lowered down,
accompanied by all the hurried symptoms of a man having fallen
overboard. I made the people in the boat tug at their oars towards the
spot; but though we pulled over and over the ship's wake twenty times,
the water was everywhere unruffled and unmarked by any speck. At
length I rowed on board, turned the hands up to muster, to ascertain
who was gone, and found all present but our poor little Triton! It
appeared that the lad, who was one of the sides-men, fatigued with the
day's amusement, had stretched himself in the fore-part of the
quarter-deck hammock-netting, and gone to sleep. The sharp voice of
the officer, on seeing the gig almost alongside, had roused the
unhappy boy too suddenly; he quite forgot where he was, and, instead
of jumping in-board, plunged into the sea, never to rise again!
There are few accidents more frequent at sea than that of a man
falling overboard; and yet, strange to say, whenever it happens, it
takes every one as completely by surprise as if such a thing had never
occurred before. What is still more unaccountable, and, I must say,
altogether inexcusable, is the fact of such an incident invariably
exciting a certain degree of confusion, even in well-regulated ships.
Whenever I have witnessed the tumultuous rush of the people from
below, their eagerness to crowd into the boats, and the reckless
devotion with which they fling themselves into the water to save their
companions, I could not help thinking that it was no small disgrace to
us, to whose hands the whole arrangements of discipline are confided,
that we had not yet fallen upon any method of availing ourselves to
good purpose of so much generous activity.
Sailors are men of rough habits, but their feelings are not by any
means coarse; and, generally speaking, they are much attached to one
another, and will make great sacrifices to their messmates or
shipmates when opportunities occur. A very little address on the part
of the officers, as I have before hinted, will secure an extension of
these kindly sentiments to the quarter-deck. But what I was alluding
to just now was the cordiality of the friendships which spring up
between the sailors themselves, who, it must be recollected, have no
other society, and all, or almost all, whose ordinary social ties have
been broken either by the chances of war, or by the very nature of
their roving and desultory life, which carries them they really know
not where, and care not wherefore.
I remember once, when cruising off Terceira in the Endymion, that a
man fell overboard and was drowned. After the usual confusion, and a
long search in vain, the boats were hoisted up, and the hands called
to make sail. I was officer of the forecastle, and on looking about to
see if all the men were at their stations, missed one of the
foretop-men. Just at that moment I observed some one curled up, and
apparently hiding himself under the bow of the barge, between the boat
and the booms. "Hillo!" I said, "who are you? What are you doing here,
you skulker? Why are you not at your station?"
"I am not skulking, sir," said the poor fellow, the furrows in whose
bronzed and weather-beaten cheek were running down with tears. The man
we had just lost had been his messmate and friend, he told me, for ten
years. I begged his pardon in full sincerity, for having used such
harsh words to him at such a moment, and bid him go below to his berth
for the rest of the day.
"Never mind, sir, never mind," said the kind-hearted seaman, "it can't
be helped. You meant no harm, sir. I am as well on deck as below.
Bill's gone, sir, but I must do my duty."
So saying he drew the sleeve of his jacket twice or thrice across his
eyes, and mastering his grief within his breast, walked to his station
as if nothing had happened.
In the same ship, and nearly about the same time, some of the people
were bathing alongside in a calm sea. It is customary on such
occasions to spread a studding sail on the water, by means of lines
from the fore and main yard-arms, for the use of those who either
cannot swim, or who are not expert in this art, so very important to
all seafaring people. Half-a-dozen of the ship's boys, youngsters sent
on board by that admirable and most patriotic of naval institutions,
the Marine Society, were floundering about in the sail, and sometimes
even venturing beyond the leech rope. One of the least of these
urchins, but not the least courageous of their number, when taunted by
his more skilful companions with being afraid, struck out boldly
beyond the prescribed bounds. He had not gone much further than his
own length, however, along the surface of the fathomless sea, when his
heart failed him, poor little man! and along with his confidence away
also went his power of keeping his head above water. So down he sank
rapidly, to the speechless horror of the other boys, who, of course,
could lend the drowning child no help.
The captain of the forecastle, a tall, fine-looking, hard-a-weather
fellow, was standing on the shank of the sheet anchor, with his arms
across, and his well-varnished canvas bat drawn so much over his eyes
that it was difficult to tell whether he was awake, or merely dozing
in the sun, as he leaned his back against the fore-topmast backstay.
The seaman, however, had been attentively watching the young party
all the time, and, rather fearing that mischief might ensue from their
rashness, he had grunted out a warning to them from time to time, to
which they paid no sort of attention. At last he desisted, saying they
might drown themselves if they had a mind, for never a bit would he
help them; but no sooner did the sinking figure of the adventurous
little boy catch his eye, than, diver-fashion, joining the palms of
his hands over his head, he shot head-foremost into the water. The
poor lad sunk so rapidly that he was at least a couple of fathoms
under the surface before he was arrested by the grip of the sailor,
who soon rose again, bearing the bewildered boy in his hand, and,
calling to the other youngsters to take better care of their
companion, chucked him right into the belly of the sail in the midst
of the party. The fore-sheet was hanging in the calm, nearly into the
water, and by it the dripping seaman scrambled up again to his old
berth on the anchor, shook himself like a great Newfoundland dog, and
then, jumping on the deck, proceeded across the forecastle to shift
his clothes.
At the top of the ladder he was stopped by the marine officer, who had
witnessed the whole transaction, as he sat across the gangway
hammocks, watching the swimmers, and trying to get his own consent to
undergo the labour of undressing and dressing. Said the soldier to the
sailor, "That was very well done of you, my man, and right well
deserves a glass of grog. Say so to the gun-room steward as you pass;
and tell him it is my orders to fill you out a stiff norwester."
The soldier's offer was kindly meant, but rather clumsily timed, at
least so thought Jack; for though he inclined his head in
acknowledgment of the attention, and instinctively touched his hat,
when spoken to by an officer, he made no reply, till out of the
marine's hearing, when he laughed, or rather chuckled out to the
people near him, "Does the good gentleman suppose I'll take a glass of
grog for saving a boy's life?"
It is surely very odd that there should ever be such a thing as a
sailor who cannot swim. And it is still more marvellous that there
should be found people who actually maintain that a sailor who cannot
swim has a better chance than one who can.
This strange doctrine, as may well be supposed, derives but slender
support from any well-established facts. It is merely asserted that,
on some occasions of shipwreck, the boldest swimmers have been lost in
trying to reach the shore, when they might have been saved had they
stayed by the ship. This may be true enough in particular cases, and
yet the general position grounded upon it utterly absurd. The most
skilful horsemen sometimes break their necks, but this is hardly
adduced as an argument against learning to ride. I suppose there is
not an officer in the service, certainly not one who has reached the
rank of captain, who has not seen many men drowned solely from not
being able to swim; that is, because they had not learned a very
simple art, of which, under his official injunctions, and aided by due
encouragement, they might readily have acquired a sufficient
knowledge. My own conscience is not quite clear on this score,
whatever that of my brother officers may be; and certainly, should I
again take the command of a ship, I shall use every exertion, and
take advantage of every opportunity, to encourage the men and officers
to acquire this invaluable accomplishment. Would it be unreasonable to
refuse the rating of A.B. (able seaman) on the ship's books to any man
who could not swim? If it be our duty to ascertain that a sailor can
"hand, reef, and steer," before we place against his name these
mystical letters, might we not well superadd, as a qualification, that
he should also be able to keep his head above water, in the event of
falling overboard, or that he should have it in his power to save
another's life, if required to leap into the sea for that purpose by
the orders of his superior? At present, in such an emergency, an
officer has to ask amongst a dozen persons, "Which of you can swim?"
instead of saying to the one nearest him, "Jump overboard after that
man who is sinking!"
This, then, seems the first material step in the establishment of an
improved system in that branch of seamanship which relates to picking
up men who fall overboard. There can be no doubt that highly-excited
feelings always stand in the way of exact discipline, and especially
of that prompt, hearty, and thoroughly confiding obedience to the
officer under whose orders we are serving. Such obedience is necessary
on this occasion, above all others, and is essentially required, in
order to accomplish the purpose in view.
Different officers will, of course, devise different plans for the
accomplishment of the same end. Every one who has been exposed to the
misery of seeing a man fall overboard must remember that by far the
greatest difficulty was to keep people back, there being always ten
times as many persons as are required, not only ready, but eager to
place themselves in the situations of greatest risk. In executing the
duties of a ship-of-war, there should be no volunteering allowed.
Every man ought to have a specific duty, or a set of duties, to
perform at all times. But these duties, in the case of a man falling
overboard, must, of course, vary with the hour of the day or night,
with the circumstance of its being the starboard or the larboard watch
on deck, with the weather being fine or tempestuous, or with the
course the ship is steering relatively to the wind, the quantity of
sail, and so on. The crew of every ship should be exercised or
drilled, if not as frequently, at least specifically, in the methods
of picking up a man, as they are trained in the exercise of the great
guns and small arms, or in that of reefing topsails.
Every one who has been much at sea must remember the peculiar sounds
which pervade a ship when a man is known to have fallen overboard. The
course steered is so suddenly altered, that as she rounds to the
effect of the sails is doubled; the creaking of the tiller-ropes and
rudder next strike the ear; then follows the pitter-patter of several
hundred feet in rapid motion, producing a singular tremor, fore and
aft. In the midst of these ominous noises may be heard, over all, the
shrill startling voice of the officer of the watch, generally
betraying in its tone more or less uncertainty of purpose. Then the
violent flapping of the sails, and the mingled cries of "Clear away
the boats!" "Is the life-buoy gone?" "Heave that grating after him!"
"Throw that hen-coop over the stern!" "Who is it, do you know?"
"Where did he fall from?" "Can he swim?" "Silence!" An impetuous, and
too often an ill-regulated rush now succeeds to gain the boats, which
are generally so crowded that it becomes dangerous to lower them down,
and more time is lost in getting the people out again than would have
manned them twice over, if any regular system had been prepared, and
rendered familiar and easy by practice beforehand.
I could give a pretty long list of cases which I have myself seen, or
have heard others relate, where men have been drowned while their
shipmates were thus struggling on board who should be first to save
them, but who, instead of aiding, were actually impeding one another
by their hurry-skurry and general ignorance of what really ought to be
done. I remember, for example, hearing of a line-of-battle-ship, in
the Baltic, from which two men fell one evening, when the ship's
company were at quarters. The weather was fine, the water smooth, and
the ship going about seven knots. The two lads in question, who were
furling the fore-royal at the time, lost their hold, and were jerked
far in the sea. At least a dozen men, leaving their guns, leaped
overboard from different parts of the ship, some dressed as they were,
and others stripped. Of course, the ship was in a wretched state of
discipline where such frantic proceedings could take place. The
confusion soon became worse confounded; but the ship was hove aback,
and several boats lowered down. Had it not been smooth water,
daylight, and fine weather, many of these absurd volunteers must have
perished. I call them absurd, because there is no sense in merely
incurring a great hazard, without some useful purpose to guide the
exercise of courage. These intrepid fellows merely knew that a man had
fallen overboard, and that was all; so away they leaped out of the
ports and over the hammock-nettings, without knowing whereabouts the
object of their Quixotic heroism might be. The boats were obliged to
pick up the first that presented themselves, for they were all in a
drowning condition; but the two unhappy men who had been flung from
aloft, being furthest off, went to the bottom before their turn came.
Whereas, had not their undisciplined shipmates gone into the water,
the boats would have been at liberty to row towards them, and they
might have been saved. I am quite sure, therefore, that there can be
no offence more deserving of punishment, as a matter of discipline,
and in order to prevent such accidents as this, than the practice of
leaping overboard after a man who has fallen into the water. There are
cases, no doubt, in which it would be a positive crime in a swimmer
not to spring, without waiting for orders, to the rescue of a
fellow-creature whom he sees sinking in the waves, at whatever hazard
to himself or to others; but I speak of that senseless, blindfold
style in which I have very often witnessed men pitch themselves into
the water, without knowing whether the person who had fallen overboard
was within their reach or not. Even in highly-disciplined ships this
will sometimes take place; and the circumstances which increase the
danger seem only to stimulate the boldest spirits to brave the risk. I
conceive there is no method of putting a stop to the practice but by
positively enjoining the people not to go overboard, unless expressly
ordered; and by explaining to them on every occasion when the ship's
company are exercised for this purpose, that the difficulty of picking
a man up is generally much augmented by such indiscreet zeal.
The following incidents occurred in a frigate off Cape Horn, in a gale
of wind, under close-reefed main-topsail and storm-staysails. At
half-past twelve at noon, when the people were at dinner, a young lad
was washed out of the lee fore-channels. The life-buoy was immediately
let go, and the main-topsail laid to the mast. Before the jolly-boat
could be lowered down, a man jumped overboard, as he said,
"promiscuously," for he never saw the boy at all, nor was he ever
within half-a-cable's length of the spot where he was floundering
about. Although the youth could not swim, he contrived to keep his
head above water till the boat reached him, just as he was beginning
to sink. The man who had jumped into the sea was right glad to give up
his "promiscuous" search, and to make for the life-buoy, upon which he
perched himself, and stood shivering for half-an-hour, like a shag on
the Mewstone, till the boat came to his relief.
At four o'clock of the same day a man fell from the rigging; the usual
alarm and rush took place; the lee-quarter boat was so crowded that
one of the topping lifts gave way, the davit broke, and the cutter,
now suspended by one tackle, soon knocked herself to pieces against
the ship's side. Of course, the people in her were jerked out very
quickly, so that, instead of there being only one man in the water,
there were nearly a dozen swimming about. More care was taken in
hoisting out another boat, and, strange to say, all the people were
picked up, except the original unfortunate man, who, but for the
accident, which ought to have been prevented, would in all probability
have been saved. Neither he nor the life-buoy, however, could be
discovered before the night closed.
The life-buoy at present in use on board his Majesty's ships, and, I
trust, in most merchant ships, has an admirable contrivance connected
with it, which has saved many lives, when otherwise there would hardly
have been a chance of the men being rescued from a watery grave.
This life-buoy, which is the invention of Lieutenant Cook of the Navy,
consists of two hollow copper vessels connected together, each about
as large as an ordinary-sized pillow, and of buoyancy and capacity
sufficient to support one man standing upon them. Should there be more
than one person requiring support, they can lay hold of rope beckets
fitted to the buoy, and so sustain themselves. Between the two copper
vessels there stands up a hollow pole, or mast, into which is
inserted, from below, an iron rod, whose lower extremity is loaded
with lead, in such a manner, that when the buoy is let go the iron rod
slips down to a certain extent, lengthens the lever, and enables the
lead at the end to act as ballast. By this means the mast is kept
upright, and the buoy prevented from upsetting. The weight at the end
of the rod is arranged so as to afford secure footing for two persons,
should that number reach it; and there are also, as I said before,
large rope beckets, through which others can thrust their head and
shoulders, till assistance is rendered.
On the top of the mast is fixed a port-fire, calculated to burn, I
think, twenty minutes, or half-anhour; this is ignited most
ingeniously by the same process which lets the buoy down into the
water. So that a man falling overboard at night is directed to the
buoy by the blaze on the top of its pole or mast, and the boat sent to
rescue him also knows in what direction to pull. Even supposing,
however, the man not to have gained the life-buoy, it is clear that,
if above the surface at all, he must be somewhere in that
neighbourhood; and if he shall have gone down, it is still some
satisfaction, by recovering the buoy, to ascertain that the poor
wretch is not left to perish by inches.
The method by which this excellent invention is attached to the ship,
and dropped into the water in a single instant, is perhaps not the
least ingenious part of the contrivance. The buoy is generally fixed
amidships over the stern, where it is held securely in its place by
being strung, or threaded, as it were, on two strong perpendicular
iron rods fixed to the taffrail, and inserted in holes piercing the
framework of the buoy. The apparatus is kept in its place by what is
called a slip-stopper, a sort of catch-bolt or detent, which can be
unlocked at pleasure, by merely pulling a trigger. Upon withdrawing
the stopper, the whole machine slips along the rods, and falls at once
into the ship's wake. The trigger which unlocks the slip-stopper is
furnished with a lanyard, passing through a hole in the stern, and
having at its inner end a large knob, marked "Life-Buoy;" this alone
is used in the day-time. Close at hand is another wooden knob, marked
"Lock," fastened to the end of a line fixed to the trigger of a
gunlock primed with powder: and so arranged, that, when the line is
pulled, the port-fire is instantly ignited, while, at the same
moment, the life-buoy descends, and floats merrily away, blazing like
a lighthouse. It would surely be an improvement to have both these
operations always performed simultaneously, that is, by one pull of
the string. The port-fire would thus be lighted in every case of
letting go the buoy; and I suspect the smoke in the day-time would
often be as useful in guiding the boat, as the blaze always is at
night.
The gunner who has charge of the life-buoy lock sees it freshly and
carefully primed every evening at quarters, of which he makes a report
to the captain. In the morning the priming is taken out, and the lock
uncocked. During the night a man is always stationed at this part of
the ship, and every half-hour, when the bell strikes, he calls out
"Life-buoy!" to show that he is awake and at his post, exactly in the
same manner as the look-out-men abaft, on the beam, and forward, call
out "Starboard quarter!" "Starboard gangway!" "Starboard bow!" and so
on, completely round the ship, to prove that they are not napping.
After all, however, it must be owned, that some of the most important
considerations, when a man falls overboard, have as yet scarcely been
mentioned. These are,--
First, the quickest and most effectual method of arresting the ship's
progress, and how to keep her as near the spot where the man fell as
possible.
Secondly, to preserve entire, during these evolutions, the general
discipline of the ship, to maintain silence, and to enforce the most
prompt obedience, without permitting foolhardy volunteering of any
kind.
Thirdly, to see that the boat appointed to be employed on these
occasions is secured in such a manner that she may be cast loose in a
moment, and, when ready for lowering down, that she is properly
manned, and fitted, so as to be efficient in all respects when she
reaches the water.
Fourthly, to take care in lowering the boat neither to stave nor to
swamp her, nor to pitch the men out.
And, lastly, to have a sufficient number of the sharpest-sighted men
in the ship stationed aloft in such a manner as to give them the best
chance, not only of discovering the person who is overboard, but of
pointing him out to the people in the boat, who may not otherwise know
in what direction to pull.
It is conceived that all these objects may be accomplished with very
little, if any, additional trouble, in all tolerably well-disciplined
ships.
Various opinions prevail amongst officers as to the first point; but,
I think, the best authorities recommend that, if possible, the ship
should not merely be hove aback when a man falls overboard, but that
she ought to be brought completely round on the other tack. Of course,
sail should be shortened in stays, and the main-yard left square. This
plan implies the ship being on a wind, or from that position to having
the wind not above two points abaft the beam. But, on one tack or the
other, this will include a large portion of the sailing of every ship.
The great merit of such a method of proceeding is, that, if the
evolution succeeds, the ship, when round, will drift right down
towards the man; and, although there may be some small risk in
lowering the boat in stays, from the ship having at one period
stern-way, there will, in fact, be little time lost if the boat be
not lowered till the ship be well round, and the stern-way at an end.
There is more mischief done, generally, by lowering the boat too soon,
than by waiting till the fittest moment arrives for doing it coolly;
and it cannot be too often repeated, that almost the whole depends
upon the self-possession of the officer of the watch. This important
quality is best taught by experience, that is to say, by a thorough
and familiar practical knowledge of what should be done under all
circumstances. The officer in command of the deck ought to let it be
seen and felt, by his tone of voice, and by the judicious promptness
of his orders, that he, at least, is perfectly master of himself, and
knows distinctly what course it is best to adopt.
If the ship be running before the wind, or be sailing large, and under
a press of sail, the officer must exercise his judgment in rounding
to, and take care in his anxiety to save the man, not to let the masts
go over the side, which will not advance, but defeat his object. If
the top-gallant-sheets, the topsail, and top-gallant-haulyards, be let
fly, and the head-yards braced quickly up, the ship when brought to
the wind will be nearly in the situation of reefing topsails. Under
these circumstances, it will hardly be possible to bring her about,
for, long before she can have come head to wind, her way will be so
much deadened that the rudder may have ceased to act. Still, however,
I am so strong an advocate for the principle of tacking, instead of
merely lying-to, when a man is overboard, that, even under the
circumstances above described, as soon as the boat is lowered down and
sent off, and the extra sail gathered in, I would fill, stand on till
the ship had gained head-way enough to render the evolution certain,
and then go about, so as to bring her head towards the boat. It must
be recollected, that when a ship is going well off the wind, in the
manner here supposed, it is impossible to round her so quickly as to
replace her on the spot where the man fell; to reach which a great
sweep must always be made. But there seems to me no doubt, that, in
every possible case, even when going right before it, the ship will
always drift nearer and nearer to that spot, if eventually brought to
the wind on the opposite tack from that on which she was luffed up.
It will conduce greatly to the success of these measures, if it be an
established rule, that, whenever the alarm is given of a man being
overboard, the people, without further orders, fly to their appointed
stations for tacking ship; and that only those persons who shall be
specifically selected to man and lower down the boats, and for other
duties, shall presume to quit the places assigned to them on going
about. It so happens that when the men are in their stations for
tacking, they are almost equally in their stations for shortening
sail, or for performing most other evolutions likely to become
necessary at such moments.
The excepted men should consist of at least two boats' crews in each
watch, and of others whose sole duty it should be to attend to the
operation of lowering the boats, into which no men but those expressly
appointed should ever be allowed to enter. These persons, selected for
their activity, strength, and coolness, should belong to the
after-guard, main and mizen-top, and gunner's crew, men whose duties
lie chiefly abaft or about the mainmast. Midshipmen in each watch
should also be named to the different boats; and their orders ought to
be positive never to allow more than the proper crew to enter, nor on
any account to permit the boat to be lowered till fully and properly
manned. I grant that it requires no small nerve to sanction the delays
which an attention to these minute particulars demands; but the
adequate degree of faith in their utility will bring with it the
requisite share of decision, to possess which, under all
circumstances, is, perhaps, one of the most characteristic
distinctions of a good commanding officer.
There ought, in every ship, to be selected a certain number of the
sharpest-sighted persons, who should be instructed, the instant the
alarm is given, to repair to stations appointed for them aloft.
Several of these ought to plant themselves in the lower rigging, some
in the topmast shrouds, and one, if not two, might advantageously be
perched on each of the cross-trees. Those persons, whose exclusive
duty is to discover the man who is overboard, should be directed to
look out, some in the ship's wake, some on either side of it, and to
be particularly careful to mark the spot near which the ship must have
been when he fell, in order that when she comes about, and drifts near
the place, they may know where to direct their attention, and also to
take care that the ship does not forge directly upon the object they
are seeking for. The chief advantage of having look-out-men stationed
aloft in this manner consists in their commanding a far better
position compared to that of persons on deck, and still better when
compared to the people in the boat; besides which, having this object
alone to attend to, they are less likely to be unsuccessful.
Moreover, from their being in considerable numbers, and scattered at
different elevations, their chances are, of course, much increased of
discovering so small an object as a man on the surface.
The people in the boat possess no such advantages, for they are
occupied with their oars, and lose between the seas all sight of the
surrounding objects near them, while they can always see the ship's
masts; and as soon as they detect that any one of the look-out-men
sees the person who is overboard, and points in the proper direction
for them to pull, they can shape their course accordingly. Presently
another look-out, instructed by the first where to direct his eyes,
also discovers the man; then another sees him, then another, and so
on, till all who are aloft obtain sight of the desired object, and
join in pointing with their hands to where it is to be found. The
officer in the boat, thus instructed by innumerable pointers, rows at
once, and with confidence, in the proper direction, and the drowning
man is often rescued from his deep-sea grave, when, had there been no
such look-outs, or had they been fewer in number or lower down, he
must have perished.
It is curious to observe the electric sort of style in which the
perception of an object, when once pointed out, flashes along from man
to man. As each in succession catches sight of his shipmate, he
exclaims, "There he is! there he is!" and holds out his hand in the
proper direction for the guidance of the boat. Indeed, I have seldom
witnessed a more interesting sight than that of eighty or a hundred
persons stationed aloft, straining their eyes to keep sight of a poor
fellow who is struggling for his life, and all eagerly extending
their hands towards him, as if they could clutch him from the waves.
To see these hands drop again is inexpressibly painful, from its
indicating that the unfortunate man is no longer distinguishable. One
by one the arms fall down, reluctantly, as if it were a signal that
all hope was over. Presently the boat is observed to range about at
random; the look-out-men aloft, when repeatedly hailed and asked, "if
they see anything like him?" are all silent. Finally, the boat's
recall-flag is hoisted, sail is again made on the ship, the people are
piped down, and this tragical little episode in the voyage being
concluded, everything goes on as before.