Loading a Steamer

1895

HOW COTTON IS PACKED INTO A TRANSATLANTIC SHIP.

Songs With Which the Black Screwmen Lightened Their Toil — The "Nosing" Process Which Forces Three Bales Into a Space Which Two Would Fill.

T. Thomas Fortune writes as follows from Charleston to the New York Sun:

The great world at large, which has its own business to attend to and seldom sees more of an ocean freight steamer than her smokestack and masts as she stands as a chained leviathan at her pier, knows very little of the capacity of such a ship or toil and anxiety which are involved in loading her with the precious products designed for foreign ports.

The loading of a steamship is not such an easy thing as it would appear to be at first sight. The stevedore contracts to put as many bales of cotton and as much of other substances into the big thing of iron within a given time, usually ten days, as she will hold. During the time the steamer is in port she is in the hands of the stevedore. He is responsible to the shipper or broker who has the contract for her return cargo. The captain may dance and curse and give all the captious orders sea dog nature may prompt, but the stevedores and the screwmen waste very little time, attention or sympathy on him. They simply let him "shoot himself out," as they phrase it.

I went through the Urania, a Liverpool tramp here, with Mr. S. W. Bennett, an old custom house employee, recently and was surprised to find that the small steamer was under contract to carry 9,000 bales of cotton, 300 pounds or thereabouts to the bale; 3,000 barrels of turpentine and 3,000 tons of cottonseed meal, which is a very high grade fertilizer, much used of very late years in Europe and America, instead of phosphates, guano and other fertilizers.

It was in one of the compartments of the iron tramp steamship Urania that I first witnessed the interesting process of packing a large bale of cotton into the very smallest space, much less than an ordinary bale of cotton would occupy. The process of "nosing up" three bales of cotton into the space which two would ordinarily occupy cannot be understood or explained by the uninitiated. There are five men in each squad, one of whom is the foreman, who does nothing but direct which bale shall be fitted into a given space and the manner in which it shall be placed.

The four men throw the heavy bales into position as easily as if they were straws, albeit with numerous grunts untranslatable. It is a matter of dexterity and not of strength. The three bales are piled upon each other edgewise, and then a long notched plank is placed against one of the iron stanchions resting on the floor or against a layer of cotton, as the case may be. One end of the sum, which weighs about 300 pounds, is placed against the three bales of cotton, and the other in one of the notches of the plank, which is about 2 inches thick. Then the "nosing" begins. The four men yank the crank of the screw, which has a right and left prong, by a sudden jerk sufficient to disarrange the physical organism of an amateur.

During this process of "nosing" the four screwmen become bathed in perspiration and croon the most outlandish gibberish. It is hardly to be comprehended by the untutored ear. The swaying of the black bodies is as regular as if they were automatons. As they sway and croon the three bales gradually yield to the turning of the crank until they are compressed, flat side down, into the space which two bales, unpressed, would occupy. This monotonous and tiresome process is repeated hour after hour until the 9,000 bales are compressed into the space which 6,000 bales would occupy thrown into the ship's hold in the usual way. Usually only one crew occupies a compartment, but in the Urania I found two crews at work, because of the great width of the ship.

As the process of "nosing" proceeded each of the gangs crooned a ditty, in which the big foreman sometimes joined, which was as intensely diverting as it was nonsensical. One of the songs ran in this wise:

I lubes Miss Susan, she lubes me;
Pull erway, pull erway.
She hab gone ter de odder sho';
Pull erway, pull erway.
I lubes Miss Susan, she lubes me;
Pull erway, pull erway.

It is impossible to describe the peculiar gyrations of the bodies and the weird, crooning, musical sound of the voices, especially in the refrain, as this song is sung, repeated over and over until the three bales are "nosed" up and begun again, when another three bales are placed in position to be "nosed." But the song that struck me most forcibly was the following:

Riley hab a baby; de baby hab no head;
Frow um in de fryin pan un call um gingerbread.
Rio, Riley, Democrat Riley, oh!
Rio, Riley, oh! Rio Riley, oh!

The last line would be drawn out in a long, ringing cadence and die away in a gentle echoing sound. The amount of music which the four men managed to extract from these senseless words would astonish Mr. Dvorak or Mr. Damrosch.

The cotton shipment movement lasts about five months of the year, when Galveston, New Orleans, Mobile, Savannah and Charleston employ an army of black screwmen. They receive good wages, but I was informed at Galveston and here that they save very little of their money. On Saturday it comes in one hand and goes out of the other. When the pressing season is over, they take to fishing, truck driving and whatever else they can get to do. They toil only that others may grow rich.

No Romance In It

1895

NO MUSIC OR HORNPIPE IN THE LIFE OF THE MODERN SEAMAN.

Bitter Disappointment Followed an Investigation — Sailors Who Work, Eat and Sleep and Are Devoid of All Ambition. A Hard and Hopeless Life.

My earliest and strongest impressions of seafaring life were gained by watching the evolutions of her majesty's ship Pinafore while she lay in the dry dock in Philadelphia, and although my ideals have been somewhat shaken by seeing the deck-hands of the transatlantic steamers I retained the notion that the counterpart of my old friends would be found aboard sailing vessels. But that dream is over. The first shock came soon after leaving port, when I told the captain that he was to teach me how to dance the hornpipe. He said that he didn't know how, and, moreover, had never seen any one who did. I replied that I was not from the country, but he solemnly assured me that he was telling the truth and called upon the second mate to bear him witness. The latter, after much reflection, recollected that he had once known a sailor who could dance a hornpipe, but couldn't remember whether it was on a voyage to the East Indies or while he was "in steam" on the Mississippi. Further inquiry proved that no one else had over witnessed such a performance.

This was not the most bitter disappointment, however. I am not a great lover of music, but it seemed to me to be a necessary part of a sailor's existence that he should scamper merrily about and pour forth the gladness of his heart in song. To be sure, they do make a noise when they pull on the ropes and occasionally burst into a dirge while at pumps, but to both of these performances the cry of the penguin is cheerful by comparison.

Indeed I have come to the melancholy conclusion that the flavor of romance evaporated with the first generation of seamen. There is none of that picturesque idleness which I was led to believe was as essential as the song and dance. Were one of them to write his daily life it would be expressive of more energy than Mark Twain's famous diary, but would partake of the same simplicity. It would read, "Worked, ate and slept." Work begins when they are driven aboard by their respective keepers and ceases when the vessel arrives at her destination, so that the time occupied in eating and sleeping is their only respite. In heavy and squally weather there is also constant pulling of sails. It is then that their abilities in that monkeylike accomplishment of climbing the riggings are tested. As you stand on deck in a heavy gale and watch all hands upon one of the yardarms furling a sail you begin to put some faith in Darwin's theory concerning the origin of mankind. In fine weather their duties are of a different sort. They then turn painters, carpenters and jacks of all trades. "Holy stoning," scraping, painting and varnishing go on until the ship looks as if she were just off the drydock.

Sometimes in an idle moment or in a fit of temporary insanity a sailor decides to wash a shirt or a red bandanna. One day during a heavy rain this madness became epidemic, and after closing the "scuppers" all hands got upon the deck and proceeded to wash their clothes with a small piece of soap with a large question mark.

Were they as well treated on all vessels as they were on The Standard they might possibly learn to take care of themselves when ashore. It is indeed a case of out of the frying pan into the fire, for when they escape from the rule of more or less severe shipmasters they have not the sense to keep out of the way of boarding house runners and the like. If they would only keep their wits about them and make up their minds to defend themselves in an honest way, they could not fail to better their condition. They sometimes entertain themselves by shirking work at the latter part of the passage and by damaging the rigging just before saying farewell.

They never lose the sheeplike appearance with which they come aboard, going about in a flock at the beck and call of the officers. The watch may be forward pulling at some ropes when they hear, "Come aft, two o' yer!" and immediately replying, "Come aft, two o' yer!" they shuffle in a body in that direction. In nothing are sailors more obliging than in regard to their names. It matters not what they are called — Tom, Dick, Harry — all are the same to them as long as each has a separate one. When two happen to claim the same name on their arrival, each trios to outdo the other in nobly sacrificing it to his companion. Truly they are believers in the poetical theory concerning the rose and can see nothing in a name.

Bringing up the rear in the ship's company came the animals. Besides a pig we left port with an army of chickens, cats and rats, of which the latter were by far the most numerous. The chickens went all too soon, the cats departed save two, but the rats remained faithful to us. The surviving cats were natives of Boston and showed a great fondness for baked beans and brown bread. It was just as well that their comrades did not live, for they were all possessed with hearty appetites and doubtless would have proved a very severe tax upon our supply of provisions. When the bell sounded, these creatures appeared from their various nooks and corners to demand a meal in as many different keys. — Edward Porter in Philadelphia Times.

A Pirate's Discipline

1895

The Rules of Conduct Observed on Board a Buccaneer.

The customs and regulations most commonly observed on board a buccaneer are worth noting. Every pirate captain doubtless had his own set of rules, but there are certain traditional articles that seem to have been generally adopted. The captain had a state cabin, a double vote in elections, a double share of booty. On some vessels it was the captain who decided in what direction to sail, but this and other matters of moment were often settled by a vote of the company, the captain's vote counting for two.

The officers had a share and a half or a share and a quarter of the plunder and the sailors one share each. Booty was divided with scrupulous care, and marooning was the penalty of attempting to defraud the general company, if only to the amount of a single goldpiece. Every man had a full vote in every affair of importance.

Arms were always to be clean and fit for service, and desertion of the ship or quarters in battle was punished with death. On one famous pirate's ship a man who was crippled in battle received $800 out of the common stock, and a proportionate sum was awarded for lesser hurts. Another allowed $725 for the loss of a limb, and other captains instituted a sort of tariff of wounds which extended to ears, fingers and toes.

In chase or battle the captain's power was absolute. He who first spied a sail, if she proved to be a prize, was entitled to the best pair of pistols on board her over and above his dividend. Those pistols were greatly coveted, and a pair would sell for as much as $150 from one pirate to another.

In their own commonwealth the pirates were reported to have been severe upon the point of honor, and among one crew it was the practice to slit the ears or nose of any sailor found guilty of robbing his fellow. — New York Dispatch.

The Traveling Crane

1895

Among the improvements lately introduced into great iron works are electric cranes. The structures are made with heavy iron poles in trestlework fashion and support tramways, upon which these immense cranes travel. For carrying the heavy products of the mills this form of transportation has points of advantage over all others. The lines from the various mills lead to a general storage point and make shipping much more convenient and expeditious. — New York Ledger.


Big Legged Frying Pan

A frying pan with legs about 6 inches long is among the curios recovered at Herculaneum. It belonged to Docilia, who had scratched her name on the handle.


Toothpick Cars

The National Toothpick association claims an output of 52 cars annually.

Closing Days of Congress

1916

Washington, Sept. 5. — An amendment to the revenue bill, authorizing the President, during a war in which the United States is not engaged, to withhold clearance from all vessels which discriminate against American shippers, to withhold privileges from ships of such nations as withhold privileges accorded to other nations from American ships, and to use the army and navy if necessary to prevent departure of offending vessels from United States ports, was adopted today by the Senate.

An amendment of Senator Phelan of California, was adopted, authorizing the President by proclamation to deny the use of the mails, express, telegraph, wireless or cable facilities to citizens of nations which do not accord to Americans all facilities of commerce "including the unhampered traffic in the mails." This amendment, it was declared, was aimed particularly at British interference with American mails.

Under an agreement to take a final vote tonight the Senate continued work today on the emergency revenue bill. Passage of the bill will virtually clear the way for adjournment of Congress probably not later than Thursday, as it is the last of the big measures on the administration program. Adjournment at 6 p. m. Wednesday is provided for in a joint resolution already prepared by the Democratic leaders and its presentation in the House for passage today only awaited word that the Senate could finish its work by that time.

—The Fryeburg Post, Fryeburg, Maine, Sept. 12, 1916, p. 6.

Iceland Ship Arrives

1916

New York, Sept. 23. — The Gullfoss, said to be one of the first Icelandic ships to visit the shores of the western hemisphere since the days of Leif the Lucky, tied up in New York harbor yesterday with a cargo of herring. Aboard the Gullfoss, a little steamer of 886 tons, is a crew of Icelandic sailors, officered by Icelandic navigators, and speaking virtually the same language that Leif, son of Eric the Red, spoke when he landed at Cape Cod about the year 1000. The ship is under command of Captain Sigurdur Pjeturssen, who told of the remarkable prosperity that has come upon Iceland since the European war started.

The Gullfoss brought twenty-eight passengers, mostly merchants, from Reykjavik, the capital, and other cities, who came to buy goods in American markets. On its return trip, the first of next month, the Gullfoss will pass a sister ship, the Gothaloss, bound for New York with a cargo of fish. Captain Pjeturssen said he hopes to see established a regular trade with the United States. The two vessels are owned by the Icelandic Steamship company. They sail under the Danish flag.

Amazingly high prices for products of the island have brought prosperity in the last two years, the captain said. The war created the first millionaires in Iceland, he declared, and also gave the island its first experience with labor troubles and other disorders of modern civilization. A strike of the fishermen's union on the island lasted throughout last summer.

Germans Take Dutch Steamer

1916

London, Sept. 23. — The Dutch mail steamer Prins Hendrik, which left Flushing this morning for London, having on board a number of Russians, French, Belgians and British, including some escaped war prisoners, was captured 20 miles out from Flushing by the Germans and taken to Zeebrugge, where approximately half of her 64 passengers were taken off.

Several Americans were aboard the steamer, including Herbert C. Hoover, chairman of the American commission for Belgian relief, but these were not molested.

The steamer was later released and returned to Flushing. It will proceed to London Sunday.

Folks, Facts and Fancies

1916

Henry Wheeler, secretary of the Massachusetts Board of Agriculture, predicts 75c. for fresh eggs in Boston this winter.

Henry Ford, the Detroit automobile manufacturer, announces that he and "his neighbors" will support President Wilson for re-election.

Horace White, for many years one of the Country's foremost journalists and an authority on financial subjects, died at his home in New York after a long illness. He was 82 years of age. Born at Colebrook, N. H., in 1834, Mr. White was educated at Beloit college and Brown University.

George W. Perkins finds that Maine progressives "almost unanimously" supported the republican ticket, and predicts that all progressives in the country will follow their example in November.

Theodore Roosevelt and William H. Taft, have accepted invitations to attend a reception in honor of Charles E. Hughes at the Union League club, Oct. 3. Elihu Root, president of the club, will preside.

The spire of the old Congregational church in Greenwich, Conn., whose peak is the highest point between New York city and New London, has been condemned. The church, it is said, is the richest in Connecticut. Its spire has been used for years as a steering guide by vessels.

With a crew of one man aboard, the 40-foot sailing launch Sir Francis, bound from San Diego, Calif., for the St. Lawrence River, cleared from Colon, Panama, for Jamaica and Key West.

"Mary" the big circus elephant which killed her trainer at Kingsport, Tennessee, Tuesday was hanged at Erwin, Tennessee. A railroad derrick car was used in the execution. The animal was forced to the tracks by other elephants, heavy chains tied around her neck and she was hoisted into the air. She was valued at $20,000 by her owners.

Ka-e-na-gi-wes, an Indian chief of Cass Lake, Minnesota said to be 128, and a heathen all that century and a quarter, won't be buried in the Spirit Land of the Chippewas' Happy Hunting Ground. He has taken the name, John Smith, and turned Christian.

—The Fryeburg Post, Fryeburg, Maine, Sept. 26, 1916, p. 8.

All Over The State

1916

A most successful as well as profitable round trip from New York to Buenos Ayres was completed by the five-masted schooner, Harwood Palmer. She went out from Norfolk with coal and back to New York with linseed, four months and 27 days being occupied on the double voyage. The vessel stocked the comfortable sum of $145,000, which goes to show that there is still some money in the shipping business.

—The Fryeburg Post, Fryeburg, Maine, Sept. 26, 1916, p. 1.

Nose Rings Desired by San Blas Indians

1919

Defy Police When Government Rules Out Ornament.

"Changing the style of wearing gold nose rings by government order has aroused dissatisfaction in social circles in the San Blas Indian country on the Atlantic coast of Panama," is a statement made by Everybody's. Police were called in when the ladies insisted upon wearing the facial decoration, despite the order, and several women were fined.

According to the authority on this secluded spot of the world: "The San Blas occupy the Atlantic coast and the adjacent islands near the Colombian border and are among the best natural sailors in the world, many of them going to sea on ships from the Panama canal. They are great fishermen, and their coast and islands are said to produce the best cocoanuts in the world. These natural seamen bring large loads of cocoanuts to Cristobal, piled high in their dugout sailboats, up the roughest bit of coast on the Caribbean, with the waves laving over the edge, and never lose a nut.

"Their blood is probably the purest of any of the American Indians, as no men in the world have guarded their women with more jealousy and efficiency than the San Bias. In a country everywhere touched with the blood of the West Indian negroes, the San Blas never show the slightest trace of any kind of mixture. Until a few years ago, and it is still often true, no men other than those of their own tribe were permitted to be ashore on their coasts or on their islands after sunset."

—The Saturday Blade, Chicago, Jan. 3, 1920, p. 9.

Jack's Account of It

1901

One of Uncle Sam's able seamen, who was in an "Owl" train that was wrecked, thus described his experience:

"It was a little after two bells this morning and I was smoking my pipe in the 'Owl's' stern galley. The first thing I knew of any happening was when I was thrown violently from my seat. After the pitching and jumping had stopped, I crawled out and saw that the steering gear of the 'Owl' had been carried away, causing her to part amidships. The after end listed badly to starboard and went aground, throwing all hands in a heap to the listed side. No lives were lost, however, though all were badly shaken up and somewhat damaged. One unlucky passenger bunted the glass out of a porthole, cutting her head and face quite badly. After wigwagging the craft coming up behind to change her course, the forward end of our craft picked up the passengers and crew and continued her voyage. As for me, I will be glad when I am safe aboard the Albatross again. This cruising overland is too rough and choppy for me." — Argonaut.

Steal Gold Cargo

1919

Scrap Iron Is Found in Boxes Packed With $50,000.

SAN FRANCISCO, California — A box supposed to hold $25,000 in gold coin shipped by the Anglo and London Paris National Bank of San Francisco on the liner Korea Maru Aug. 2 was found to contain scrap iron and metal washers when opened by the consignee in Hong-Kong, according to advices received by the bank and steamship company.

The bank, acting as agent for a New York firm, packed two boxes, each containing $25,000 in gold and the correctness of the shipment was certified to by three trusted employes.

Both boxes were put in the strong room of the steamship, but only one of them arrived at its destination with gold in it.

Officials of the bank said they believed the substitution of scrap iron for the gold was either made on board the steamer or after the consignment reached Hong-Kong.

—The Saturday Blade, Chicago, Jan. 3, 1920, p. 7.

Schooner Is Saved By 13-Year-Old Boy

1920

Stays at Helm and Guides Leaking Ship to Port

SAN FRANCISCO, Cal., Jan. 1. — A twenty-four hours' battle with death ended here with the arrival of the little schooner S. N. Castle, a 13-year-old boy at the helm, bringing to safety his father, the captain, his sick mother and a crew of three men.

The Castle, a three-masted schooner, was ninety-four days from Apia with a cargo of copra. Three days from the Samoan port the Castle started leaking and shipping seas at the rate of twelve feet a day. The donkey engine was started to run the pumps and the cargo of copra fed as fuel.

Harry Anderson, 13, manned the ship, while his father worked with the men at the pumps.

Bold Pirates Attack Ships Near Mexico

1920

Modern Red Rovers Recall Days of Captain Kidd — U. S. May Act to End Ravages

Buccaneers and pirates are swarming in the Pacific off the west coast of Mexico — freebooters in high leather boots, who swear terrible oaths and carry huge swords. Just as if they had stepped out of the pages of story books or had come to life again from the days of Captain Kidd, these marine highwaymen are waging their nefarious trade much as did the pirates of the old Spanish Main. From Mazatlan the Mexican government has dispatched a naval expedition equipped for two months' service and which it is hoped will be able to rout the outlaws.

From time to time into the ports on the Pacific coast of the United States, in the places where sailormen gather, there have come rumors of these bands of pirates. Mostly they have been put down to overindulgence in forbidden liquor or a desire to shine in the spotlight with wild and improbable tales. But now the discovery has been made that these pirates actually are infesting the seas and the stories that once were sneered at or dismissed with a pitying smile are avidly listened to.

Small Vessels Their Victims

In wild and almost inaccessible caves on the lonely islands off the Mexican coast these buccaneers have their hiding places. Tramp steamers, coastwise trading vessels and sailing ships with small crews are their victims. They appear at the break of dawn, sail boldly up to their prey, swarm over the sides, battle the crews and loot the ships. Then they sail away with their holds loaded with booty, to hide it in their caves until a favorable opportunity presents itself to smuggle the loot into the United States at some lonely point on the coast or into one of the less usually watched parts.

Who are these men and where do they come from? They do not seem to belong to any one nationality. Americans, Europeans, Mexicans, a Jap and a Chinese or two — these make up the motley crew of the pirate ships, according to J. C. Robinson, who recently arrived at San Francisco, Cal., with a thrilling tale of his capture and his adventures at the hiding place of the gang.

Pirates Overcame Crew

"They took me off the sailing ship Marie Penman," says Robinson. "I had stood my watch and was in my bunk in the forecastle. I learned afterward there had been a battle on deck and that the pirates had overcome the crew, but I was so tired I didn't hear any of the noise of the scuffle. The first I knew was when I was roughly shaken and awoke to find a pirate holding me by the shoulder. I rubbed my eyes and believed that I was dreaming, because he looked just like the pirates of whom I had read in my boyhood days. But I quickly saw that it was no dream, for I was jerked to my feet and ordered on deck.

"There the pirate chief, a big, black-mustached man who wore big boots to above his knees, carried a huge cutlass and swore the most blood-curdling oaths, put me to work helping transfer some of our cargo to the pirate ship. I was frightened and I worked hard, and when the pirates left they took me with them. Why I do not know.

"A day or two later we made port in a lonely island. I haven't the least idea where it was. The pirate ship just sailed straight toward it, and just when I was beginning to think that we were going to bump square into a huge cliff an opening appeared and our ship twisted through it into a little bay. Back in the edge of the hills, a half mile from the sandy shore where we landed the cargo, there was quite a settlement of these pirates. Evidently the ship which had attacked the Marie Penman was only one of several pirate vessels.

U. S. May Take Action

"They didn't pay much attention to me — just let me run around and do what I wanted to. I heard a lot of their plans, ate with them, slept with them and it seemed they had forgotten I did not belong to the band. When the chief who had captured me sailed away the next time he took me along. We raided a small schooner, and when the pirate ship was leaving I managed to remain aboard the schooner, upon which I worked my way back to a port in Lower California, from which I worked my way to Frisco." Robinson has been asked to tell his story to Navy officials, who say that if such a pirate nest exists the United States may take a hand in helping to wipe it out.

—The Saturday Blade, Chicago, Jan. 3, 1900, p. 1.

Strangely Illuminated

1900

Weird Effect of Phosphorescence on a Ship In Bering Sea

"I have often heard of the wonderful phosphorescence of southern seas," remarked a traveler from the north, "and I have seen some pretty fair samples of it in the Atlantic between New York and English ports but I did not know until recently that it prevailed to any extent in northern waters.

"Last August I was on board a revenue cutter in the Bering sea, about 63 degrees north latitude, bound north, when one night about 10 o'clock I happened to go on deck, and I was almost frightened by the sight of the sea. The wind was blowing sharp enough to raise the whitecaps, and the whole sea looked as if it were lighted from its depths by a million arc lights, throwing their white rays upward and under the flying foam. The hollows of the waves were dark, but every crest that broke showered and sparkled as if it were filled with light. From the sides of the ship great rolls of broken white light fell away, and she left a broad pathway of silvery foam as far back as the eye could reach.

"But about this hour was the most striking display. Here it was as if the ship were plowing through the sea of white light, and as the water was thrown back from her prow it fell in glittering piles of light upon the dark surface beyond and was driven far down below, lighting the depths as if all the electricity of the ocean were shooting its sparkles through the waves and turning itself into innumerable incandescents that flushed a second and then shut out forever. I stood on the forecastle deck looking down into the brilliant white turmoil of the waters until I began to feel as if we were afloat upon some silver sea, and a really uncanny feeling took possession of me. The white ship was lighted by the phosphorescence of the waters, so that as high up as the deck there was a pale, weird white that made one feel as if the 'Flying Dutchman' were abroad upon the seas and had passed by us. The masts towered in ashy gray above the decks, and every rope and line stood out distinctly in the light, but cast no shadow. It was all as ghostly as if we had gone up against the real thing, and it was a positive relief to get back into the wardroom, where there was something more human. I don't know how long it lasted, but when I went to bed at 11 o'clock I could still see the silver shining through the air port in my stateroom." — Washington Star.

Whistling Buoys

1900

Valuable Aids to Navigation and Repairers Keep Them In Tune

One of the most interesting aids to navigation is the whistling buoys. There are several of them off the cape, and their dull, hoarse groaning may often be heard for miles.

They are clumsy affairs of steel, ranging in length from 30 to 35 feet, with an air tank shaped like a pear about 10 feet high and 9 feet in diameter from which an 18 inch pipe 20 feet long protrudes.

These buoys may be seen at the lighthouse department storehouses on Diamond island, where buoys of all kinds and shape are kept ready to be placed over some rock dangerous to navigation or to replace any which may be damaged or adrift.

This long pipe which runs down into the water is what furnishes the power for the whistle.

When the buoy is in the water, the rolling of the waves up through pipe and the pressure on the air in the tank forces it out through the whistle, and the well-known dismal sound is the result.

Whistle buoys in different ports of the coast are given a different pitch in order that the mariner may, on a thick night be able to know his locality by the difference in the sound.

It is the duty of the officers to adjust the pitch of these whistles when they get out of tune, And they have become so expert at it that they can detect and remedy the slightest variation from the correct pitch.

The adjustment of these whistles must be made while they are in place, and sometimes the great necessity of the marks on dangerous rocks obliges the men on the buoy boats to make these repairs in very rough weather.

The repairing crew usually includes the mate and one man, who are rowed up to the buoy until they are able to grasp the rings on the side and clamber up over the side to the cage which protects the whistle.

Perhaps the most dangerous duty which falls to the lot of the buoy tenders is that of replacing the heavy buoys during a storm or while a heavy sea is running.

With the steamer rolling her rails under the greatest care must be taken to avoid accident, and many are the stories of narrow escapes related by strong, rugged men who perform this dangerous work. — Augusta (Maine) Journal.

Report Real Sea-Serpent

1905

Rudyard Kipling has seen his second sea serpent, according to a story which comes with some seriousness from Cape Town. People who read Kipling's first sea-serpent story thought it was merely a brilliant piece of fiction. This second sea serpent story is not told by Kipling, but by the skipper of the steamship Armadale Castle. The sea serpent was seen — in fact, it was struck by the ship and probably killed — while the Armadale Castle was on her last voyage to Cape Town, in latitude 3 degrees south. Mr. Kipling was aboard the ship.

Commander Robinson is not sure whether the creature struck was a real sea serpent, a queer whale or a greatly overgrown shark. Whatever it was, the thing was hit by the bow or the ship where, in all properly regulated fishes, the pectoral fin exists. The head was doubled across the port bow and the tail trailed away along the starboard side. The violent struggles of the creature to free itself from its painful and embarrassing position led to its striking the soft brown paint of the "boot-topping" on the ship's side with the powerful fluke of its tail.

This was observed by the boatswain and some of the men who were watching the affair through the side ports immediately over the tail of the fish. The marks enabled the commander afterward to make fairly accurate measurements. From mark to stem it was forty-five feet. In girth it was apparently about the volume of one of the ship's lifeboats at the broadest part, say eight feet in diameter, very gracefully tapering away toward the tail. The body appeared to be of a greenish-brown color with large dark spots all over the back and sides, the lower parts being of a dull white.

It was first observed by one of the seamen, who heard a knocking against the ship's side. When the news was passed along the decks all the passengers, young and old. performed a mad stampede into the forecastle to look at the unhappy prisoner. The engines were stopped as soon as possible and reversed, but fully a quarter of an hour elapsed between the first discovery and the final clearance, by which time the creature was either dead or completely exhausted, for it sank slowly, tail first.

Old Portage Railroad Line

Pennsylvania, 1905

For some time prior to 1800 travel across Pennsylvania had been in canoes and in river barges propelled by poles or along the shores of rivers by horse and foot and by intervening portages on Indian trails, connecting points on the different rivers. The Philadelphia-Pittsburg national pike was built upon such a substantial basis that wherever undisturbed one still finds the gracefully modeled arches of solid masonry almost intact, after more than a century has passed. The completion of the Old Portage railroad by the state of Pennsylvania in 1834 put an end to the time-honored "coach and six," with the many picturesque and commodious inns and taverns along the line of this broad macadamized toll road, which with its substantial construction was, in point of endurance, second only to the Roman military roads of Great Britain.

This Old Portage road was constructed from material brought from England. The British government sent over experienced engineers to instruct the Americans in the running of the stationary steam engines used upon the inclined planes of the road in the Allegheny mountains. The railroad's highest point was about 2,700 feet above sea level; being only 200 feet lower than the neighboring hill, which is the highest point of the Allegheny mountains in Pennsylvania. The road consisted of ten planes, five of which were on either side of the mountain, and intervening levels. In 1835 the canalboats were so constructed that they could be taken in sections and hauled over the mountain on flat cars, without disturbing their cargoes. The rails were secured to stone sleepers twenty inches square, which were sunk in the ground.

On the Old Portage road the best time for the forty miles between Hollidaysburg and Johnstown was twelve hours. Express trains on the Pennsylvania railroad now run a closely parallel distance over the Allegheny mountains in a trifle over one hour. The passenger traffic on the road in those days was usually limited to one car each way a day, with a capacity of thirty passengers.

In 1854 the Pennsylvania Railroad company bought the Portage road from the state of Pennsylvania. Common rumor says that at this time the state legislature was "greased" and that not a cent of the $47,000,000 which was to have been paid for the road was ever received into the treasury of Pennsylvania.

Ship Rigger Braves Death

1905

His Vocation Is One of the Most Perilous There Is

Men who delve deep into the bowels of the earth and those who rear buildings to great heights in the skies represent the extreme in perilous endeavor. The men who work downward, according to statistics, face far greater danger than those who toil slowly skyward. Yet here is an altitudinous calling fraught with peril every minute, says the Detroit Free Press. It is the ship rigger's job, and, compared with steeple climbing, it is much the more onerous.

The men engaged in it are as well trained as circus athletes, though in the rigging of a ship the performers are carefully safeguarded. The ship rigger, however, does not know at what minute a rotten bit of timber or a worn rope may give way and precipitate him to death. With a wider use of steam vessels the decline of sailing ships is a natural result, so that now the rigger does not find as much work to do as in the palmy days of the fast clipper when American commerce whitened every sea.


Test Weldless Chain

There have been sent to the navy yard, Boston, for testing, several samples of a new kind of chain, in which the links are made of thin steel and molded without welding. It is believed that this weldless chain is stronger than the other chains now in use in the navy, and if the tests prove this it will probably be generally adopted for use by the bureau of equipment.

The Great Sargasso Sea

1896

Sailors have always been superstitious fellows. No wonder, then, that the ignorant sailors of Columbus, anxious for some excuse to turn back to Spain, believed the "sargasso sea" — that tangled mass of seaweeds in mid-Atlantic — was a trap set by Providence to catch them. Science to-day analyzes and explains all such natural phenomena once deemed supernatural. What is it that causes that mysterious sargasso sea?

Simple enough. The rotation of the earth, the rush of the tides, the steady winds unite to cause a vast surface current in tropical waters, moving at about ten miles an hour from east to west, known as the equatorial current. This, in the Atlantic Ocean, feeds the Gulf Stream, which then is shifted by the contour of the North American continent out across the Atlantic to warm the outlying shores of Northern Europe and only spend itself away on the frozen borders of Franz Josef Land. What results? An eddy. Put a few bits of wood in a basin of water and stir the water till it acquires a circular motion. The bits of wood will all collect in the center of the whirling mass.

So the Atlantic Ocean is one great eddy, and the sargasso sea is only the center of it. A "marine meadow," the Spaniards first called this stagnant water. Later it came to be called the sargasso or sargassoa sea, from the Spanish word sargazo, meaning seaweed. Here the seaweed detached from the bottom of the ocean collects, buoyed up by peculiar little air-cells.

Woe to the ship that wanders into the meshes of this great net, six times as big as all France. The same conditions that produce the great sargasso sea of the Atlantic make similar eddy-spots in various regions of the Indian and Pacific Oceans, though much smaller. The Chinese, always ready to utilize whatever is at hand, use the sargasum weed as a food, and as such it is both palatable and nutritious. — Pathfinder.