Chapter XVI: Conclusion (4)

MR. PURVES submitted a point for the consideration of the judge: That the obtaining of certificates from the surveyors appointed by the Marine Act, and recognised under the Act, who surveyed the ship, and made the necessary declarations, was evidence of such a nature that in itself it was proof that the owners used all reasonable means to secure the sea-worthiness of the ship. His Honour would see the vast importance of this case to shipping companies. The conditions of the law were complied with in taking all reasonable precautions.

MR. JUSTICE WILLIAMS: You contend that the certificates of the surveyors authorised by the Act are conclusive evidence?

MR. PURVES: Yes; not merely evidence, but conclusive evidence. Unless it is shown that the certificates were obtained by fraud, they are actual proof of sea-worthiness.

MR. PURVES, in addressing the jury on behalf of the defendants, made a severe attack on the witness, Robert Ponting, and urged at great length that the evidence given by him was not to be relied on. He (Mr. Purves) did not think that Ponting had told wilful untruths, but had simply got up a theory of his own as to how the wreck occurred, and repeated it so often to himself that he believed it, and also endeavoured to make other people believe it. There was no credit due to Ponting in the matter at all. He did not save or try to save anybody but himself. Indeed, even that he did not do, for Providence alone had enabled him to reach the shore, while better men were allowed to go to the bottom. The jury had sat day by day patiently listening to all the details of this most important shipping case, and he (Mr. Purves) was sure they would see that it was a matter which should never have been brought into court at all. No one sympathised more than he (Mr. Purves) did with the unfortunate plaintiff, Mrs. Kilpatrick, who had undoubtedly lost her husband and breadwinner; but that was no reason why the innocent owners of the _Alert_ should be called upon to recoup anyone for loss sustained through an accident over which they (the owners) had not the slightest control. It should also be borne in mind that Messrs. Huddart, Parker and Co. had sustained a severe loss themselves by the sinking of the ship, which was one of their breadwinners. Notwithstanding the serious loss to the firm, they had liberally subscribed to the fund got up in relief of the sufferers. From first to last the owners had done all that men could do. When the _Alert_ was taken from the Bay trade to be put into the outside trade, she was surveyed by the most skilful men that could be found, and the owners expended £7,000 in effecting alterations to make her a most efficient ship. Not content with the local survey they had her re-classified at Lloyd’s. She proved herself a sea-worthy ship, even on the occasion of her last voyage, by running under adverse conditions from Wilson’s Promontory to Cape Schanck without shipping any water, and it was only when Captain Mathieson in a reckless moment altered her course to the Heads, in a tremendous sea and heavy weather, that she foundered. Any of the largest steamers would have foundered under similar circumstances. Unless it was proved that the defendants, as reasonable men, were not satisfied that the ship was sea-worthy, the plaintiff had no case whatever. Was there any evidence to show that the _Alert_ was unsea-worthy? He would ask the jury to say that the defendants were not in any way to blame, and that the disaster, which they all deplored, was an act of God. He desired to apologise to the jury for being unable to produce, notwithstanding his promise to do so, the person who, in addition to Ponting, actually witnessed the foundering of the _Alert_ at sea. During the course of his remarks, Mr. Purves pointed out that a good deal had been said by the witnesses for the plaintiff about the fact of the _Alert_ being rigged with only a foremast. In contradiction to this theory of danger it was only necessary to draw the attention of the jury to the fact that the steamships of Her Majesty’s navy—the best ships in the world—had no masts at all! They were merely fitted with flag-poles for signalling purposes. Some of the most incredible stories had been told concerning the wreck of the _Alert_. For instance, the witness Ponting had said that “flames and smoke came out of the vessel’s funnel as she sank.” The thing was simply impossible. (Here Mr. Purves spoke with great emphasis and considerable warmth.) “Why hang it, gentlemen of the jury, the fires must have been out a considerable time before the ship went down!” The learned gentleman then concluded an impassioned appeal by drawing marked attention to the fact of the plaintiff, Mrs. Kilpatrick, having attended the court with her baby every day since the trial began, when she ought to have been at home attending to her household duties. He (Mr. Purves) could see no other object in her conduct than that she was desirous, through her presence, and that of her infant, of enlisting the sympathy of the jury. He was sure, however, that those gentlemen would not be misled, but would, in bringing in a verdict for the defendants, estimate her attendance in court at its true worth.

In addressing the jury, on behalf of the plaintiff, Mr. Smyth said that he was astonished at the unwarrantable manner in which his learned friend, Mr. Purves, had dragged Mrs. Kilpatrick’s name before the jury. In the beginning of the case he (Mr. Smyth) had called Mrs. Kilpatrick as a witness to testify as to her late husband’s age, general habits, etc., and was then done with her. Since then his learned friend, Mr. Purves, had served her, through Messrs. Gaunson and Wallace, with a notice to appear on his behalf. Therefore, Mrs. Kilpatrick had attended day by day in response to Mr. Purves’s demand, and on that account only. She had no one to leave her infant with, and consequently was compelled to bring the child to court. Under these circumstances it was mean and contemptible for Mr. Purves to put the construction he did on the presence of the plaintiff in court. He (Mr. Smyth) would not make any remark concerning what his learned friend, Mr. Purves, said about Ponting, as the latter was perfectly able to defend himself. With regard to the statement made that the owners of the _Alert_ had acted liberally in relieving the sufferers, he (Mr. Smyth) failed to see where the liberality came in. What were the facts? £1,200 were raised by public subscription, toward which Messrs. Huddart, Parker contributed £100—exactly one-twelfth of the whole—but they did not aid Ponting, the only survivor from the wreck of their ship, to the extent of a single farthing!

In continuation, Mr. Smyth said that the obligation was imposed on the owners of ships not only to put them in a sea-worthy condition, but to keep them so during every voyage. The certificates were the permit to go to sea, but the owners to save themselves must then take all reasonable precautions that the ship was sent to sea in a sea-worthy condition, and through their agent, the captain, that she was kept in a sea-worthy condition during the progress of the voyage. The certificates were not conclusive evidence of sea-worthiness, except as to the condition of the vessel at the time of survey. He contended that the evidence proved that at the time of the wreck there were such defects in the vessel as to make her unsea-worthy. She was built for the Bay trade, and was never fit to go outside.

KILPATRICK v. HUDDART, PARKER & CO., LTD.

EIGHTH DAY, THURSDAY, FEBRUARY 21, 1895.

_Continuation of Mr. Smyth’s address to the jury._

He would ask the jury to say that the pantry window was not protected, and that it rendered the vessel unsea-worthy. He would also ask them to say that the defendants had not used all reasonable means to insure sea-worthiness, especially as the evidence of Captain Webb, one of the directors of the company, showed that he was thoroughly acquainted with the condition of that window. The cargo of forty-four tons of wattle bark and furniture, which the _Alert_ carried on the occasion when she foundered, was too high and too light to make her stable. When her trial trip to Tasmania was made, a fine day was selected, and she carried no cargo; but on the return journey, when the weather was rough, she carried seventy tons of oats, and that was very different to forty-four tons of light loading. Ponting, the cook, said it was the lightest cargo he ever saw in her, and that the light cargo was the subject of comment amongst the crew. He would further ask the jury to say that this light cargo, and the manner in which it was stowed, was another cause of unsea-worthiness in a vessel that sat so low astern, had such extreme dimensions, and that was intended for the Bay trade, and even in the Bay was a wet ship. The gratings over the stoke-hole being unprotected were a further cause of unsea-worthiness, and, as Ponting stated, the water entered the ship through them. He (Mr. Smyth) was perfectly satisfied to leave it to the jury that the plaintiff was entitled to compensation for the pecuniary loss she had suffered through losing her husband on this unsea-worthy ship.

* * * * *

MR. JUSTICE WILLIAMS summed up the case to the jury. He said his charge might be made comparatively short, the evidence having been placed before them with very great fulness by the witnesses and learned counsel on both sides.

The plaintiff brought an action under an Act of Parliament, by which, providing the action were brought within a certain time, she was entitled to recover damages if the loss of her husband was caused by the neglect of the defendants. Her ground of action, shortly put, was that the death of her husband was caused by the negligence of the defendants. She said in effect that it was part of the contract of the defendants to take all reasonable means to provide that their ship should start on all voyages in a reasonably sea-worthy condition. Sea-worthy condition meant that the ship should be in a fit state to encounter all the perils of a sea voyage. Of course, if a vessel got into a cyclone, a typhoon, or some terrible storm that overwhelmed her, the owners were not to be blamed for that. Such an occurrence would be due to what Mr. Purves had called “the act of God.” Speaking for himself he (His Honour) thought the Almighty got the credit, or the discredit, for many of these things of which it would be better to say that such occurrences were due to the destructive agencies of nature for which the owners were not responsible. He (His Honour) did not give the Almighty the credit for slaughtering the human creatures He had created right and left in this indiscriminate manner. The plaintiff, to support her cause of action, had first to prove that the ship was not sea-worthy, and then, to render the defendants liable, she would have to prove that the vessel was not sea-worthy by reason of some precaution not having been taken by the defendants which they should have taken. The defendants pleaded that they did take all reasonable means of making the vessel sea-worthy, and were not guilty of any neglect, and that, even if this were not so, the cause of the foundering was the improper navigation of the captain. If that were so, the owners were not responsible, because the ship did not founder through their fault, but through the fault of the captain. Owners were not responsible for the rash act of a captain at sea. This was important to bear in mind in this case, because the defendants endeavoured to show that the ship would have come through the gale all right if she had been properly handled by the captain. They said that if he had made things all right fore and aft, and had put the covers over the gratings, he would have come through right enough. If the jury thought that the foundering of the vessel was contributed to by the negligence of the defendants, then their duty was to find a verdict for the plaintiff. They (the jury) had a difficult task to perform, because they had to decide between experts. Doubtless the jury knew something of the sea; probably they had all made long voyages, but what was their knowledge as compared with that of those who were bred up to the sea, whose nursery was the sea, and who could with a glance of the eye tell more than the best amateur sailor who ever lived?

The plaintiff through her witnesses attacked the general structure of the _Alert_, and said that the ship was unsafe to go on the high seas. It was contended that the vessel was designed and intended for the Bay service, that her engines were much more aft than they were generally placed in ocean-going steamers, and this much was generally admitted. It was said that this put the vessel down by the stern, and raised her bows. Certainly, if the bows were in the air greater play was given to the waves and the wind, and if the wind and weather were on the port-side, there would be great difficulty in bringing the ship up to the wind. The plaintiff brought a great body of evidence in support of that view; but on the other hand the defendants brought a great body of evidence to rebut it. Some very experienced witnesses had been called on both sides. Captain Bicknell, a coasting pilot of large experience, gave his evidence very well, and was most emphatic in condemning the ship as totally unfitted to go to sea; a mere “cockle boat” he called her. In addition to expert evidence called to prove that the ship was sea-worthy, the defendants put in certain certificates, some from Lloyd’s in England, and some from the Marine Board here. These certificates in his (His Honour’s) opinion were not conclusive of sea-worthiness—he would reserve that point—but they were entitled to very great weight. The ship was built at Glasgow in 1877, and the greatest care seemed to have been taken in constructing her. She was surveyed by Lloyd’s, and certified as fit to carry perishable cargo to any part of the world. She came out here not with steam, but under sail, rigged as a barque. She ran in the Bay trade a long time. In the Bay, with a strong south-east wind blowing, there were occasionally fair seas to be encountered; but these were merely pigmy teapot seas as compared with those outside. Talk of waves! One might as well compare a millpond to the Bay as compare the Bay waves to those to be met with outside on the high seas. Whoever heard of a ship being wrecked by heavy seas in Hobson’s Bay? Anyone who had encountered “great guns” in rounding the Horn in a sailing ship, or who had seen the seas off the Cape of Good Hope, would not think of big seas being found in our Bay. Then there was the question of cargo. This was one of the plaintiff’s strongest points. Some witnesses said that it did not matter what cargo the ship had, she would have gone to the bottom all the same. The certificates did not touch this question. They were strong evidence that the vessel was sea-worthy, so far as structure and build were concerned, but did not touch the question of neglect on the part of the captain to put the ship in a sea-worthy condition before she started on her voyage. The plaintiff said that, having regard to the ship’s build and her tendency to be unstable by reason of her build, she should have been loaded and trimmed with the greatest care and caution, but defendants’ witnesses said the cargo did not make the slightest difference to her, so long as she was handled properly. A great deal had been said about the bunker lids, but there was no evidence to show that they got out of position, or that any water got through the bunker holes. This was a weak part of plaintiff’s case. As to the grating over the stoke-hole, the defendants averred that they had provided canvas to cover it, and it would be a hard thing to say that the defendants ever knew, or ought to have known, that the grating, unless protected by iron or wood, was such a danger as to render the ship unsea-worthy. The wooden awning had been condemned by some of the experts as unusual on a small ocean-going steamer. In the ordinary way, perhaps, such an awning would do no harm, but if the wind came to blow on the beam, the awning became a kind of fulcrum against which the wind pressed, and helped to heel the ship over. On the other hand, two of the witnesses for the defence had said that the effect of the awning would be contrary and would help to heave her stern up. Then there was the pantry window on which there had been such a tremendous onslaught. It was said that it was a source of danger to the ship, and supposing they (the jury) came to the conclusion that it rendered the vessel unsea-worthy, they would have to ask themselves the question, “Did that danger contribute to the foundering of the ship in this case?” They (the jury) must not only find that it was a source of danger, but they must also find that the defendants knew, or ought to have known, it was so, to the extent of making the ship unsea-worthy.

He (His Honour) regretted very much that the witness Ponting had been attacked by Mr. Purves. The unfortunate man was the sole survivor of the wreck, and had spent the whole of that tempestuous night on the sea, and had done nothing to deserve being spoken ill of. Ponting had given his evidence in a proper manner, and appeared to be a decent sort of man; certainly not the kind of being Mr. Purves sought to make out. Mr. Purves had also said that Ponting had been saved by an act of Providence, but he (His Honour) did not know why Providence should have shown any more consideration for Ponting than for anyone else on board the ship. The man was, providentially no doubt, saved by his own perseverance and tenacity. If Ponting’s story was true, undoubtedly the pantry window did give way and the water poured in. If the jury found that the captain neglected his duty, they would have to find a verdict for the defendants. On the other hand, if they found a verdict for the plaintiff with damages, they would have to say how much they would apportion to the widow and how much to the child.

In reply to His Honour the foreman of the jury said they would prefer to consider their verdict next day.

MR. MITCHELL directed His Honour’s attention to the fact that he had said in his summing up that the certificates had nothing to do with the loading, whereas, in giving the certificates, the surveyors did so on the assumption that the vessel might go to sea without cargo. If there was a condition as to cargo, it would be mentioned in the certificate. Mr. Mitchell also contended that the defendants would not be liable unless the captain loaded the vessel in a way that, in his opinion, would make her unsea-worthy.

HIS HONOUR: These both seem to be good points, and I will bring them before the jury to-morrow morning.

KILPATRICK V. HUDDART, PARKER & CO., LTD.

NINTH DAY, FRIDAY, FEBRUARY 22, 1895.

HIS HONOUR, addressing the jury, said: Gentlemen, I told you yesterday, with respect to the charge that is made against the owners of the vessel, that you should disregard the certificate given when considering whether the vessel was loaded in such a way as to render her unsea-worthy. I don’t think I was quite right in saying that. I had forgotten that Mr. McLean, engineer surveyor to the Marine Board, told us that the certificate was for an unloaded ship. You cannot disregard that certificate altogether. Still you must bear this in mind, that though a vessel may, in the opinion of the Marine Board, be sea-worthy, the captain, or mate, may load her in such a way as to make her unsea-worthy. There is some evidence that the cargo put in her was built so high in the hold as to make her less stable than if it had been better stowed. I also told you that if the captain loaded the vessel in such a way as to render her unsea-worthy, the owners would be responsible. That is a little too bald. The owners are entitled to some protection in this respect, that is, unless the captain knew, or ought to have known, that the cargo was loaded in such a manner as to render her unsea-worthy. If he trims the ship in a way which he knows, or ought to know, will render the voyage risky and perilous, then the owners would be responsible. Gentlemen of the jury, you are to give your verdict for plaintiff, or defendants, but not your reasons. You may cause endless trouble if you do.

The foreman of the jury asked whether there was any evidence as to the ballast tanks being filled.

HIS HONOUR replied that the only shred of evidence on that point was that one of the tanks was stowed away in the forepeak.

The jury retired at a quarter past 10 A. M., and at a quarter past 6 P. M. returned into court with a verdict for the plaintiff for £600, allotting £500 to Mrs. Kilpatrick and £100 to the child.

* * * * *

NOTE.—The compiler of this book takes the present opportunity of publicly thanking Mr. J. Wallace (of Messrs. Gaunson and Wallace) for his kind courtesy in lending a copy of the shorthand notes taken at the trial. These notes—together with the compiler’s own personal observation in court—have enabled a clear, full, and authentic account of this most important shipping case to be now placed before the public.

Battling with Waves and Lawyers.

I’ll no say men are villains a’;
The real hardened wicked,
Wha hae nae check but human law,
Are to a few restricted;
But, Oh! mankind are unco weak,
And little to be trusted;
If self the wavering balance shake,
It’s rarely right adjusted.—_Burns._

KILPATRICK V. HUDDART, PARKER AND CO. being the first trial of its sort that ever took place in Victoria, much more than ordinary interest was taken in the proceedings. Each day during its progress the court was crowded by people, principally nautical, who apparently gave the case their closest attention. Considering that the eminent Counsel engaged on each side were called upon to use and listen to technical phrases, which they could not possibly know much about, they got on remarkably well, and talked glibly of “port and starboard,” “weather and lee bulwarks,” “scupper holes,” “garboard streaks,” etc. Personally, I spent a good many hours listening to the different opinions given by the various witnesses as they passed through the water of examination and the fire of cross-examination. Being myself an “old salt” I was amused, if not enlightened, at the familiar jargon, and it did not require a very great stretch of imagination for me to fancy that I was for the nonce back once more amongst the “toilers of the sea.”

At the same time I must confess that I was a good deal astonished at many of the opinions given out from the witness box. These opinions—while strictly upholding the truth of the old adage, “Many men, many minds”—were no doubt well meant, and even if some of them were a little ridiculous, I daresay the various witnesses spoke “according to their lights.” If not considered audacity on my part, I would like to draw attention to a number of these “notions.” For instance, one witness on being asked how he would have blocked the pantry window during the time the water was pouring through it, replied that he would have got “a hammer and chisel and cut a few holes in the iron bulks-head, through which, by means of bolts, he would have fastened an iron plate, making all secure in half an hour.” To have done a job like that when the ship was lying alongside the wharf would have been, in my estimation, a very smart half hour’s work, but to do it when the ship was wallowing in the sea, now rolling to windward, and now on her beam ends, and the decks full of raging water, was simply an utter impossibility. Admitting, which _I_ do not, that the plate could have been put on in half an hour, the ship would have been down before the job was finished! _Ergo._ It is much easier to do a perilous job in a witness box than have nerve enough to do it on a sinking ship!

Another witness for the defendants said he would have fastened a piece of canvas over the window; while a third, fourth, and fifth stated they would have stopped the water from getting in by means of “a cushion” “a pillow,” or “a bit of anything.” Just so; and this is how these men of imaginary fertile resources throw slush on the memory of Captain Mathieson—as able and tried a seaman as ever walked a plank—as if he, and those with him, had not done all that men could do under the circumstances. Again, two of the defendants’ witnesses—neither of them a sailor by the way—were of opinion that “by the wind getting underneath the wooden awning when the ship was lying over, it would have a lifting tendency, and, like a sail, would buoy the vessel up.” For the benefit of landsmen, or of those whose knowledge of nautical affairs is only superficial, I may here state that if a main trysail had been set on the ship, it would have had a lifting tendency, because the wind, after striking flatly against the sail, must escape somewhere, and there being considerably more room for escape at the upper part of the sail than at the lower, the wind consequently goes upward, _i. e._ Above the gaff the wind has boundless space to fly to; while beneath the boom the exit space is confined to the small area between the boom and the ship’s deck. Anyone who has ever been half way out on a ship’s gaff—as I have been many a time—when a trysail was set could not fail to feel the wind blowing him up from below, and pretty strongly too. On the other hand, a ship lying over with a big wooden awning on her poop, the wind, being abeam, would enter on the upper or weather side, and must rush through to leeward or downward, thus having a powerfully depressing effect upon the ship. Further, if the awning happened to be choked to leeward by the sea, the depressing tendency would thereby be rendered all the more acute, by reason of the wind not being able to get out. Even a schoolboy, if he gave the subject the slightest reflection, would be convinced that in this case, as in every other, the wind must follow the dictates of nature, instead of being guided by the theories of non-practical men. Another witness for the defence—who also is not a sailor—averred that “the amount of freeboard a ship has is no proof of her sea-worthiness.” This is true in a sense, for different ships require to be loaded, or trimmed, in different ways. I have been in ships that were at their best when trimmed a few inches by the head, but I never saw, or heard of, a long, small ship—except, of course, the _Alert_—that was considered in good trim to go to sea with a freeboard aft of only a few inches, and nearly the whole of her out of the water foreward! I don’t say that it is impossible for a vessel in the last named condition to be sea-worthy, but I do say that I would have to be out at sea with her a few times in a breeze of wind before I believed it. While dealing with weather, I may as well point out that Captain Barrett of the ship _Hesperus_—although his vessel was not within a hundred miles of where the _Alert_ was—said in his evidence that “it was so bad that he did not think it just to take a pilot for his ship on account of the danger to which he (the pilot) would be exposed in boarding on the afternoon of the _Alert’s_ wreck.” Good, kind, considerate man! he is just the sort of captain I should like to sail with. Then Pilot Mitchell also stated that “the weather was so bad between three and five on the afternoon of 28th December, 1893, that he did not think he would have boarded any ship at that time.” However, just as there are different ways of trimming ships, so there are different ways of getting a pilot on board. As a case in point, I remember on one voyage we were bound to Queenstown (Cork) for orders. While we were still out of sight of land—it being at least a hundred miles off—a pilot boat bore down on us one morning in answer to our signal. A gale of wind was blowing, and a very heavy sea running at the time, so much so that if the “hooker” (a name given to Queenstown pilot boats) had come alongside of us she would have been instantly swamped. To have attempted to lower a small boat, either from our ship or the “hooker,” would have been utter madness, as no boat could have lived in such a sea. After bringing the “hooker” near enough to make a bargain, by word of mouth, as to the cost of taking us into port, one of the pilots sung out for us to heave a deep sea leadline on board of the “hooker.” Our best leadsman threw, after three or four attempts, the line amongst the pilots, and then one of them made the line fast around his waist and jumped overboard, his mates at the same time calling out to us, “Haul away boys!” Whilst the process of hauling in was going on, we would catch a glimpse of our pilot now on the crest of a wave, floating “like a cork,” and then he would disappear altogether in the trough of the sea. A few minutes sufficed to drag him on board, and his first exclamation as he jumped upon our deck was, “It’s hurdy weather, me boys.” Within a quarter of an hour after coming on board, behold our pilot—with a stiff glass of grog _in_ him and a dry suit of the skipper’s clothes _on_ him—walking the poop and conning the ship as if he had been on board of her for a month! We were safe in the “Cove of Cork” next day, and the entire cost of the job was, as per agreement, £10.

The incident I have just related took place in the month of December, so it will be easily understood that the pilot’s voluntary bath was not a very warm one. Do our Victorian pilots go so far in search of ships, and do they ever board them in the Cork fashion? I trow not. The two systems of pilotage are very different. Here, pilotage is compulsory; that is, the ship must pay for a pilot whether she takes one or not. There, if you don’t take a pilot, you are not required to pay for one. I may be wrong, but I often think that if the Cork system were in vogue here, our pilots would go further to sea in search of ships, and as a natural sequence there would be fewer wrecks strewn along our coast. When I use the term “Cork system,” I refer solely to the voluntary plan and the practice of going over a wider radius in search of ships. The jumping overboard process I don’t advocate, although emergencies may rise sometimes to make even that necessary.

Turning back to the opinions given at the trial, I cannot help taking notice of what Pilot Schutt said in answer to the question as to whether the water getting into the saloon had taken the _Alert_ down stern first? His reply was, “I say no. Supposing forty tons of water were in the saloon, I don’t see that it would take her down, owing to her watertight compartments.” If the saloon had been in the forepart of the _Alert_, Mr. Schutt’s opinion would have been a correct one. Forty tons of anything in the other end of the ship would have made a wonderful difference, for the ship would have been more on an even keel, and would have had a better hold of the water with her forefoot. But forty tons placed in the stern of a small vessel, already overladen aft, would certainly sink her even if there were no other causes.

Another witness gave it as his opinion that “beam ends was almost an impossibility. He could not imagine a ship in such a position.” This is simply a landsman’s way of putting it because he gets it into his head that a ship has to be over to an angle of 90 degrees before she is beam ended. Seamen, however, think and say that a ship is on her beam ends when she lies down on her side till her deck assumes an angle of 45 or 50 degrees, and certainly that position is “beam ends” enough to satisfy the most fastidious man on board. When a ship is in the position I have described, it is much more easy to crawl about on the _outside_ of the weather bulwarks, than to crawl about the ship’s deck.

By way of giving a clearer idea of “beam ends,” I may here relate a bit of my own experience. On one occasion I was in a splendid ship called the _Mary Ellen_, bound from the Clyde to Demerara. By the time we had been a week at sea, we were about 100 miles outside of Cape Clear, on the Irish Coast, and then got caught in a very heavy gale of head wind. For three days we lay hove to under the close reefed main topsail—a position in which some ships will ride comparatively dry, and skim the waves like a seagull—but for some reason or other our ship made what in nautical parlance is termed “very bad weather of it.” Strange as it may seem to landsmen, it is nevertheless true that ships are like men; you have to be acquainted with them for a considerable time, under all sorts of circumstances, before you get to know their good qualities and their bad ones. Experience alone can make you familiar with their little tricks, or ways, and then you are in a position to deal with them accordingly.

The _Mary Ellen_ was a new ship, on her first voyage, and seeing that she was behaving badly, the captain, after consultation with his officers, determined to try if the ship would ride easier under the lee clew of the main topsail, or “goose wing” as it is sometimes called. When everything was ready to execute the movement, I ran aloft to the maintop, in order to see and keep all the necessary gear running clear. However, before the weather sheet was half hauled up, the ship fell off until she was beam on to the sea and wind. The skipper at once called out, “Get that sheet home again as soon as you can, but meantime look out, men, and hold on for your lives.” On glancing up to windward, I saw a tremendous sea coming down broad on the ship’s beam, its angry looking crest seemed on a level with where I stood in the main top. Along it came, and struck the ship with such force that she heeled clean over, so much so that as I looked down I saw nothing underneath me out of the water except the ship’s weather topside from the bilge to the top-gallant rail. She was literally buried under water, the weight of which caused her to tremble so, that I felt the very mast I was on shiver like a leaf. My first thought was that the ship would never rise, then, as I saw she was making an effort to get up and free herself, it flashed across my mind that if she ever came to the surface again, I would be the only soul left on board! Slowly the good ship began to uprighten, and as she did so I saw here and there beneath me, heads, legs and arms of my shipmates darting out of the water like fish when they are plentiful in a pond.

As soon as she rose we placed a tarpaulin in the mizzen rigging, sheeted the topsail home again, and got the ship up to the wind once more. If another such sea had come along before we got things put right, it would have been a case with the ship and all of us. As it was two men were swept overboard; the lee bulwarks were gone from the poop to the cathead; boats, galley, and almost everything about the decks had disappeared as if they never had been! Two days afterward the gale eased off, and we ran back to Queenstown, discharged the cargo, and docked the ship for repairs before starting again on our voyage.

In order to show the enormous loss of life amongst seamen in comparison with other trades, or callings, Mr. J. H. Wilson, a member of the House of Commons, has compiled a table from statistics contained in the “Report on the work of the Labour Department of the Board of Trade” and issued on November 28, 1894.

Mr. Wilson’s table embraces a period of ten years, 1883-4 to 1893-4, and is as follows:—

Industries Number Employed Ten years loss Annual Average
of Life Loss of Life

Factory and Workshop
Operatives 5,270,835 4,047 405
Railway Servants 381,626 4,717 472
Miners 718,747 10,333 1,033
Seamen 188,391 21,241 2,172

Further, Mr. Wilson estimates that one seventh of the lives lost amongst seamen is due to causes which could not easily be prevented, and that the remainder—18,206 for ten years, or 1862 annually—are lost through preventable causes such as under-manning, incompetent seamen, insufficient stability, want of proper shifting boards, over insurance, reckless navigation, superficial surveying and over loading. The foregoing list, be it remembered, is not ancient history, but is made up to date, so to speak, and during a time when the “Plimsol Shipping Act” was supposed to be in full swing!

It is a common saying that, owing to the great improvements made in connection with modern shipping, the mortality amongst seamen is considerably less now than it was in former years, but the stern logic of facts shows that instead of this being the case, the loss of life is increasing at a fearful rate. On looking back a bit I find, from a perusal of the “British Wreck Register,” that during the thirty years preceding Mr. Wilson’s table (namely 1853 to 1883) there were 21,651 seamen lost by shipwreck, or an average of 721 annually. In other words, the annual loss during the past ten years—1883 to 1893—has been three times as great as the annual loss during the previous thirty years. Surely this is a startling piece of information, and one well calculated to make a person ask, Is this state of matters due to modern improvements, or is it in spite of them? Speaking as one who has had many years’ experience as a seaman, I have no hesitation in saying that six out of every ten disasters which overtake ships are caused by the foolish practice of hurrying vessels out of port in an unfit condition. Many a time have I seen, and been in, ships sent away from Melbourne and elsewhere with hundreds of tons of cargo on deck. In some instances this cargo was intended to remain on deck, and in others it had to be put below after the ship got to sea. Indeed, in one notable case a royal mail steamer actually took with her, from Melbourne, a number of stevedores men, or lumpers, for the express purpose of stowing the cargo whilst the vessel was on her way to Adelaide. Every now and then the community is startled with the account of some appalling shipping disaster, and, as a rule, the credit of such is given to the Creator by announcing them as “acts of Providence.” In sober truth they are mostly “acts of improvidence,” the blame resting solely with foolish, short-sighted man. A large steamer will come into port to-day, discharge and load cargo all night, and sail next morning on a fresh voyage. “Despatch in port” this is called, but too often it means “danger at sea,” and the sooner ships are compelled to be worked reasonably in port, and out of it, the better it will be for all concerned. While dealing with the “despatch in port” business, I may as well mention another reprehensible practice in connection with it. All, or nearly all, of the steamers trading on the Australian coast are so timed that they sail from the various ports on Fridays and Saturdays, consequently the ships are ploughing the seas on Sundays and earning money for the various shipowners, while they (the owners) good, Christian men no doubt, are quietly sitting, or kneeling, in their pews at church! This system entirely deprives Jack of his day of rest, for it is well-known “there is no Sunday in seven fathoms water.” I admit it would seem hard to make a law preventing coasting steamers from sailing unless there was reasonable prospect of reaching their destination before Sunday, but it surely is quite as hard on seamen to carry out the practice which prevails at present. I can call it nothing but one of the worst forms of “sweating,” for it “sweats” the ship, the machinery, and the men, and though it seems a money-making plan it tells its own tale, on all three, in the end.

Here in Melbourne we are accustomed to receive homilies from pulpit and press concerning the wickedness of causing railway, tram, and other employès to work on Sunday, but whoever heard of anyone speaking, or writing, on behalf of the seamen engaged in the coasting steamers? As Burns said, “Evil is wrought by want of thought as well as want of heart,” and shore folk, if they think about the subject at all, imagine, when they stroll down among the wharves on Sunday, that because they see no work going on, therefore no Sunday labour is being done! I don’t, for even a moment, say that Melbourne shipowners are any worse than those of any other port, for I have reason to know that almost everywhere Sunday work is winked at. I got what I may term an “eye-opener” when a boy on my first voyage to sea. During the Crimean war, the ship I was in took coals out from Scotland to Constantinople for the Turkish Government. We discharged cargo at the government dockyard, in the Bosphorus, by means of gangs of convicts—who, by the way, were chained in pairs, each two being connected by a ten foot chain which was shackled round one’s right ankle, and the other’s left—working every day, except Friday, which is the Turkish sabbath. On that day our own ship’s crew carried on the discharging, and consequently our cargo was being put out _every day_ in the week without cessation. This system, doubtless, suited our owner’s pocket, and yet allowed those belonging to each religion, Christian and Mahometan, to have their Sunday off!

MR. PURVES, the learned Q. C., in his address on behalf of the defendants, stated that “Ponting was not the only man who saw the _Alert_ founder. There was another eye-witness whom he (Mr. Purves) would produce to tell the court that he saw the ship overwhelmed with three tremendous seas.” It is almost needless to say that Mr. Purves did _not_ produce this other “eye-witness.” If there was, or is, really another man besides Ponting who saw the _Alert_ go down, why in the name of humanity did he not report the occurrence at the time? Had he done so a number of valuable lives might have been saved, or at least steps might have been taken in the direction of making efforts to save them. The very first intimation, or knowledge, of the wreck of the _Alert_ was received from the lips of Ponting, the sole survivor, as he lay on Sorrento Beach, the day _after_ the ship had gone down, and if any human being on the shore witnessed the accident without drawing public attention to it at the time, I think he, or she, richly deserves to be indicted for manslaughter! True it is that Pilot Mitchell, in his evidence, stated that he “remembered the day the _Alert_ foundered, December 28, 1893, and that the occurrence was reported to him on that date;” but nevertheless I would rather believe that the shorthand writer made a mistake—or the witness himself made a slip of the tongue—than that he (Pilot Mitchell) really meant what he is credited with saying.

A good deal of stress was laid by Mr. Purves on the fact that the _Alert_ was insured, this in itself being, as he said, “a proof of sea-worthiness.” I, however,—who ought to know at least quite as much about ships as Mr. Purves—contend that the fact of a vessel being insured is no more proof of sea-worthiness than the fact of one being uninsured would be proof of her unsea-worthiness. Indeed, many of the finest ships afloat are not insured at all, while some of the worst “coffin” ships that ever left a port are insured “up to the mast-head,” so to speak! This position of affairs need not cause the slightest wonder, for insuring a ship is not like insuring a man. The latter must die, and it is only a question of time when the insurance company must pay over the money. On the other hand, there is no “must” concerning the fate of a ship. The chances are great that she will be lost, but they are quite as great that she will _never_ be lost. Thousands of ships on which insurance premiums have been paid for years live to be old hulks, and finally get broken up without any responsibility on the part of insurance companies, and thousands of ships go to the bottom, some of them sent there by force of circumstances, and others by man’s cupidity, or stupidity!

MR. PURVES had firmer ground to stand on when he stated that “the Act said nothing about the shape of a ship.” This is true, but I think the day is not far distant when those in authority will pass an act interfering with both the shape and the rig of ships. The terribly increasing loss of life and property at sea is forcing both of these important points into prominence. No further back than February 19, 1895, Mr. Tankerville Chamberlayne, M.P.,—from his place in the House of Commons—asked the President of the Board of Trade “to consider the advisability of recommending, or compelling, shipbuilders to construct steamers with overhanging or raking stems as formerly, inasmuch as in the event of a collision the damage sustained from a vessel so constructed is almost always confined to those parts above the water-line, whereas, with the present ram shaped bows, a ship run into is almost certain to sink.”

While on the subject of collisions I may as well mention that I was lately present at a practical exhibition of an invention which if adopted by shipowners would, I am convinced, reduce the loss of life and property, through collision or leakage, to a minimum. The apparatus is the simplest and most effective I have ever seen. It consists of a double sheet of canvas—the length and width of which to be regulated by the size of the ship carrying it—interlined with strong wooden battens. In the event of a collision, this “apron” (as it is called) has only to be carried by one or two men, from its place on deck, the upper end made fast to the bulwark above the fracture, and the rest pitched overboard. This done in less than ten seconds the apron will unroll right down,—as far as the keel if necessary—completely cover the hole, make it watertight, and allow permanent repairs to be made from within while the ship proceeds on her voyage to a port! The rapidity and certainty with which the apron flies to the aperture is like magic, and must be seen to be believed by those who do not understand that it simply follows a natural law in being drawn by the suction of the inrushing water. The inventor and patentee, Mr. James Holmes, the Auckland shipbuilder, is now resident in Melbourne, where (as also in Sydney and New Zealand) he has given a number of practical tests in the presence, and with the entire approval, of the highest engineering and nautical authorities. The apron is inexpensive, and should be added by all our Marine Boards to the life saving apparatus which all ships are compelled to carry.

Another source of danger which tends to make ships unsea-worthy is the system of building vessels now-a-days with “well decks.” The proper name for these in my estimation is “ill decks.” “Well decks” are not only weak points in a ship from a structural point of view, but in addition are positively dangerous, inasmuch as they are open to take in, and retain, water. As nobody likes these decks, neither designer, builder, commander, or seaman, it may be asked why ships are built with them? The explanation is simply this: Every ship on entering or clearing out of a port has to pay pilotage, towage, harbour, wharf, and other dues. These dues are, as a rule, calculated on the registered tonnage of the vessel at so much per ton,—in some cases even the number of hands on board is dependent on the tonnage—and where a “well deck” occurs in a ship, being open space, it is not calculated as carrying space in reckoning the ship’s tonnage. Hence two ships might really be of the same size, but if one of them had a “well deck”—or two or three as some ships have—her registered tonnage would be considerably less than the other vessel whose upper deck was flush fore and aft. At first sight this might seem a very slight difference, not worth mentioning, but when it comes to be remembered that every time a ship goes into a port the allowance, or shortage, for her “well decks” is saved by the owner, and as ships are in and out of port a good many times in the course of their career, the saving soon runs up to a considerable sum of money.