Chapter IX: The Mate

Naturally, perhaps, seeing that most of my own sea-service as an officer was spent in this capacity, I come to the consideration of the mate's position with very cordial feelings; a little shamefacedly, too, for I remember an admirable little book which used to have (and may have now, for what I know) a good sale among Mercantile Marine officers in embryo. It was called "The Mate and his Duties," and was written entirely for the use of the profession, so that it would not be appreciated by shore people at all. To us it was of great use, although few young officers reading it for the first time could help a feeling of despair stealing over them as they studied those counsels of perfection. It did not seem possible that any one man should be sufficient for all these things. So we tried to forget the whole duties of a mate, and concentrated our ideas upon the present duty to be performed, trusting that we might rise to each occasion as it presented itself.

But to begin at the beginning, let us take the title, "The Mate." It is a word of simple origin, easy of derivation, ancient enough to make it honourable, and therefore it is a matter for congratulation that the Board of Trade has seen fit to retain its use instead of the more modern and finical "first officer." It is used almost always on board ship, without any prefix, as needing no distinctive mark like the other mates, _i.e._ second mate, bo'sun's mate, cook's mate, etc. The mate is the chief executive officer, the companion of the master, who should, except when all hands are on deck, issue all his orders through the mate as a matter of etiquette. Upon him devolves the working of the ship and her command upon the death or incapacity of the master, to whom he comes next in importance on board. Perhaps in this latter respect I ought to except steamers, where the chief engineer is a man of great weight, and is apparently bound to be of greater weight in the near future. Yet, although the chief engineer's pay be so much larger than that of the mate, and his importance so great, there is one aspect of their relative positions which cannot, to my mind, be ignored in considering this vexed question of precedence. It is that at all times the engineer, who is below, must obey the orders of the officer, who is above, immediately, unquestioningly, under severest penalties, as is only fitting, seeing that any slackness, not to say disobedience, might result in a terrible calamity, such as running down another ship.

Let us, however, pass this matter by for the present, since it must be dealt with when speaking of the engineer later on. Again it must be noted, as in the case of the master, that there is a vast range of difference among mates--from him who manages a monster like the _Oceanic_, down to the mate of a footy little brigantine going foreign. Yet in the eyes of the Board of Trade they are both equal; the same certificate is required of both. As a matter of detail, however, it will be found that not only _the_ mate, but the long list of junior officers in such a ship as the _Oceanic_, will have passed the examination for master at least, most of them for "master extra," and many of them, as hinted at in a previous chapter, will have commanded magnificent sailing ships. But it is almost ludicrous to see how, in a sailor's eyes, the fact that a man is in command--of no matter what--will weigh, as far as his importance goes, against the man who is not. There cannot be much doubt as to which occupies the more important position--the mate of an ocean liner like the _Campania_, or the master of a sailing vessel of, say, some five hundred tons, creeping wearily about the world wherever it may be found possible to secure a bit of cargo. But--and it is a mighty big but--one is, in nautical phrase, _Captain_ Brown, and the other is only _Mr._ Jones--and there is an end of discussion.

Apart, however, from sentimental consideration, there are many reasons why the grade of mates should be held so different. For instance, the master of one ship, however small, if only he be gentlemanly and accustomed to command, will find little or no difficulty in springing suddenly to the command of another ship, no matter how large. Because the minor details are attended to by his subordinates, who are usually competent men, and he, being at the head of the position, can calmly observe matters without letting any one see that he is strange to such a giddy height. Not so the mate. If it were possible to transfer, say, a mate of a schooner into the position of mate of a three-thousand-ton sailing ship without much previous training, he would be lost. His new duties would overwhelm him. As well expect a small tradesman, who has been grubbing away in a little suburban shop on a turnover of £4 a week, to suddenly assume charge of one of the largest departments at Whiteley's, or the Army and Navy Stores. For the mate does not merely command the ship during the master's absence, or act as the master's mouthpiece: it is his to see that orders given are carried out, and to hold the proper person responsible for neglect.

But perhaps we are getting along too fast. To return, then, for a moment to a consideration of how the mate attains his position, that last rung but one on the ladder of promotion, which, alas! is separated by so wide a gulf from the next one above. It is hardly necessary to go over again the various steps which have been already mentioned in the case of the master, except in the most cursory manner: First, usually, but not compulsorily, the serving of a term of apprenticeship fixed at four years by law, the last year of which is counted as the service of able seaman. Or, as the rules merely specify that the candidate for a second mate's certificate shall have been four years at sea, one year of which he was an able seaman, he may have simply entered as boy and gone on to ordinary seaman, and then to A.B. This course is the one adopted in American and Canadian ships, where apprenticeships are unknown; but there the candidate is usually in far better case than any apprentice in a British ship, because he is sure to be put on board by some one whom the master is anxious to please, or, more probably, he is a friend or relative of one of the officers themselves; in which case, although his designation may be humble enough, he will live in the cabin, and have his profession thoroughly burnt into him--a process which he will in nowise be able to escape.

Our mate, however, having served his allotted time, and received the essential recommendation from his last commander, makes his way to a navigation school, not that he, unless he be a hopeless idiot, has waited until now to be taught navigation, but in order that his knowledge may be suitably arranged for production at the right time and in the accepted fashion. Some young would-be officers are foolish enough to imagine that the master of a navigation school can also help them in their seamanship, but with lamentable results. For the navigation is in cut-and-dried exercises which any ordinarily capable scholar may learn with little difficulty, since all of them may be satisfactorily done without the slightest knowledge of the higher mathematics. There are thousands of Mercantile Marine officers holding certificates, good men too, who could not work a problem in trigonometry without the tables to save their lives, and to whom Euclid is a sealed book; for clever men have long been at work simplifying navigation problems, until their execution is just a matter of simple arithmetic and acquaintance with a set of nautical tables. This state of things gives rise to much controversy among those who are interested in Mercantile Marine officers. Some say that every officer should make a point of knowing not merely how to work his problems, but why certain tables are used; in other words, that he should not merely work by rule of thumb, but be a competent mathematician. Then, these gentlemen add, he would be able to command not only higher wages, but more consideration from his employers, besides being better able to compete with the carefully-educated foreigner. Others contend that the business already laid upon Merchant officers is fully as great as they ought to bear, and that, supposing they had learned the mathematical theory of navigation, they would still in practice use the rule of thumb method. Not feeling at all capable of deciding between these two contestants, I merely present their views, contenting myself with the passing remark that, supposing a man to be a good seaman, it cannot be to his detriment to make himself as proficient in the mathematical theory of navigation as his capacity will enable him. But with regard to seamanship, matters are totally different. Here there can be no difference of opinion. Seamanship, that is the handling of a ship under all circumstances of weather, the fitting and keeping in repair of her masts, rigging, sails, etc., and the stowage of her cargo, cannot be learned from books. The unhappy neophyte who has scrambled through his apprenticeship without attempting to learn the business, and comes at the last moment to his crammer for assistance, is in evil case when standing before the keen-eyed old shipmaster who is to examine him. He tries to recall book answers to questions that are not in the books.

Even the "rule of the road," that most essential part of all a seaman's education, though it be found in a set of iron-bound articles, is apt to vanish entirely away from a man who has only studied it in book form. When the examiner hands him a model, and telling him to imagine himself in command of her, places other models at various angles to her course, asks him what he would do, he will, if his knowledge be theoretical, surely find it depart from him in his sore need, and leave him dumb and witless. And so it will be with all the various branches of seamanship. The ordeal of a _vivâ voce_ examination is too great for any mere theorist to come through successfully--and failure means not only a forfeiture of fees, but a compulsory going to sea again for six months before the next presentation for questioning. The navigation, on the other hand, is considered so much less important that failure to pass that part of the examination carries with it only forfeiture of fees, and a space of three months before appearing again, during which time the candidate may remain on shore at school.

Let us suppose, however, that our young aspirant has so well prepared himself that he has gone flying through his first examination, emerging a full-fledged second mate. In that case, as already remarked, much will depend upon his position with regard to influential friends among ship-owners or vacancies in the firm with which he has served his apprenticeship. So many are the difficulties, so varied are the conditions under which the young officer works his way upward, that it is impossible to speak definitely as to the length of time that will elapse before he again approaches the dread tribunal for another inquisition as to his qualifications for the post of "first mate." Since I left the sea there have been several modifications in this matter. One of the most important--made certainly as a concession to the needs of officers in steamships--is that a man with two years' service as second mate, having in the meantime passed his first mate's examination, may pass his examination for master, although he has never served as first mate. This, in view of the almost invariable rule in steamships that a man must have a certificate of higher grade than the one he intends to serve in, is no more than bare justice. And much as we who have been through the grinding of the sailing-ship mill may gird at it, there can be little doubt that before very long it will be found impossible to insist upon the candidate having served his time in sailing ships. The sailing ship has not gone yet, by a very long way, as one visit to the docks will show any one who cares to inquire; but the day of her extinction is within measurable distance. If once the Panama or other interoceanic canal connecting the Atlantic with the Pacific becomes an accomplished fact, sailing ships will be worth old iron price, and no more.

To return to our candidate. Let it be granted that he has been so well supported in his application for employment as second mate that, while yet the ink is tacky upon his certificate, he has got a berth for a round voyage lasting a year. Upon his return he again looks up his old schoolmaster, and gets coached for another visit to the examiners. This second ordeal should be comparatively easy. For while there is very little navigation added to what he has already done in the examination for second mate, he ought by this time to have perfect confidence in his ability to answer any question put to him about seamanship, since he has had practice in ship-handling. In my own case, I can only say that "passing" for mate was a mere bagatelle as compared with passing for second mate. And as soon as he hears the blessed words, "Where will you have your certificate sent?" which is the formula used by the examiner to intimate that he has passed, he feels now that his course is clear; he has entered the charmed circle, and become that much envied individual, a full-blown "first mate."