The Colonial Clippers

In 1885 the Ben Voirlich had almost as bad an experience to the southward of the Cape of Good Hope, when bound out to Melbourne under Captain Bully Martin. At 8 a.m. on the 6th August a terrific squall from W.N.W. struck the vessel and in a moment the foresail had blown to rags. By 10 a.m. it was blowing a hurricane, the ship scudding before it under fore and main lower topsails. An hour later a tremendous sea pooped her, and washed away the two helmsmen and Captain Martin who was conning them. Captain Martin and the quartermaster, a man named Scott, were swept up against a hen coop, which was lashed up to the bucket rail at the break of the poop, with such force as to smash it to pieces; but it saved them from going over the side. As soon as they could pick themselves up, they made a dash for the wheel, which they found smashed in two and only hung together by its brass rim. Scott held the wheel whilst Captain Martin cleared away the broken part, which was jamming it, and they were just in time to save the ship from broaching to. The lee wheel, a foreigner, had meanwhile got into the mizen rigging and lashed himself with the turned up gear. The seas now broke over the ship in a continuous cascade, and the Ben Voirlich could only be worked from the poop and foc’slehead, to which the crew succeeded in leading the braces. All that night a wild sea looted the ship. Both the standard and steering compasses were swept overboard. The port lifeboat on the skids was smashed to pulp; the topgallant bulwarks were stripped off her, and the poop ladders, harness casks, hen coops, handspikes and such like were all carried off by the tremendous sea.

As soon as daylight broke, they managed to lash up and repair the wheel; then the second class passengers were moved from the midship house to the poop, as Captain Martin feared that the house would be burst in and gutted by the seas raging aboard over the broken bulwarks. But again the Ben Voirlich safely weathered it out, and four weeks later dropped anchor in Hobson’s Bay.

The two famous Bens were kept in the Melbourne trade until 1885. Then in 1886 both ships went to Sydney, the Ben Cruachan in 90 days and the Ben Voirlich in 94 days. But in 1887 they bade a final good-bye to the wool trade and went into the San Francisco wheat trade. Ben Voirlich left London on 22nd May and arrived Frisco on 23rd September—124 days out. This was a very good run for the westward passage round the Horn.

The Ben Cruachan was not so fortunate. She left the Tyne on 4th May and did not arrive in San Francisco Bay until 15th October—164 days out.

The Ben Cruachan ended her days under the Mexican flag and was known as the Carmela, and I believe she still does duty as a hulk in a Mexican port.

The Ben Voirlich was sold to the Germans in 1891 and converted into a barque. In 1903 the Germans sold her to the Italians, who renamed her the Cognati. During the winter of 1908 she was badly damaged by collision with an iceberg off the Horn, but managed to make port. She can now be seen at Leith, where she is serving as a domicile for the crews of surrendered German ships. Here she lies a mast-less hulk, covered with deck-houses, but fitted below with electric light and every comfort.

These two sister ships were very evenly matched. Though not as fast as some of the iron wool clippers, they made up for it by hard driving and generally managed to get home in well under three figures.

“Samuel Plimsoll.”

Famous as had been the Aberdeen White Star wooden clippers, the iron ships launched for Thompson in the seventies may almost be said to have eclipsed them. And not least of these magnificent vessels, either in speed, appearance or sea qualities was their third iron ship, the Samuel Plimsoll, named after a man who at that time was receiving broadside after broadside of abuse in shipping circles, yet who to-day is counted one of the greatest, if not the greatest, benefactors of our merchant seamen.

The Samuel Plimsoll was launched in September, 1873, and christened by Mrs. Boaden, wife of Captain Boaden, in the presence of Samuel Plimsoll, Esq. Captain Boaden left the famous Star of Peace in order to take Samuel Plimsoll from the stocks. She came out as a double topgallant yarder and was specially fitted for emigrants.

On her maiden passage she took out 180 emigrants. Leaving Plymouth on 19th November, she had poor winds and very light trades to the line, which was crossed on 11th December in 29° W. The meridian of Greenwich was crossed on 2nd January, 1874, and the Cape meridian four days later. Her best run in the 24 hours was 340 miles, and between the Leeuwin and the S.W. Cape, Tasmania, she was only four days. On the 17th January she overhauled and passed the Alexander Duthie, and finally arrived in Port Jackson on 1st February.

Whilst loading for London she was thus advertised in the Sydney Morning Herald:—

From the very first Samuel Plimsoll proved herself a very fast ship. Her best performance was 68 days to Sydney from 190 miles W.S.W. of the Bishops, when commanded by Captain Henderson, who had been chief officer on her first two voyages, and left her to command the Wave of Life, Moravian and Thermopylae, eventually returning to her as commander in 1884.

Samuel Plimsoll’s logs show that she revelled in the roaring forties. In 1876, when in 41° S., she ran 2502 miles in eight days, her daily runs being 348, 330, 301, 342, 320, 264, 340, 257. In 1883 she averaged 278 miles in 13 consecutive days, her best being 337. In 1895, when homeward bound, she ran from 49° 50′ S., 179° 05′ W., to 55° 25′ S., 79° 59′ W. in 15 days, 29th November to 12th December, her daily distances being—244, 286, 263, 259, 261, 273, 302, 290, 257, 253, 274, 264, 314, 235, 245—equalling 4020 miles.

The Samuel Plimsoll was in the Sydney trade until 1887; she was then transferred to the Melbourne trade. On her first passage to Melbourne, she left London 2nd March, 1888, dropped her pilot off the Start on 5th March, but was only 270 miles from the Start on the 15th owing to westerly gales; she crossed the equator 5th April, in 26° W., and averaged 218 miles a day from Trinidad to 130° E., her best run being 310 miles. She arrived in Hobson’s Bay on 22nd May, 79 days from the Start. During the whole of her career under the Aberdeen house-flag, her only mishap was the carrying away of a fore topmast: and this freedom from casualties was the case with most of Thompson’s green clippers.

Writing about the increase of sailing ship insurance rates in 1897, Messrs. Thompson remarked:—

On the occasion of her only mishap a tropical squall carried away the bobstay, and down came the fore topmast and main topgallant mast. It happened that a Yankee clipper was in company; this vessel beat up to the dismantled Samuel Plimsoll and sent a boat off with the message that she was bound to Australia and would gladly tranship the passengers and carry them on to their destination. This offer, Captain Simpson, who then commanded the Samuel Plimsoll, declined with thanks, so the American went on her way.

It was all day on until the Aberdeen flyer had fresh masts aloft, and then she settled down to make up the lost time. And nobly she did so, one week’s work in the roaring forties totalling 2300 miles, and she eventually arrived at Melbourne, 82 days out. Some days later the Yankee arrived and her captain at once went to the Samuel Plimsoll’s agents and reported speaking her dismasted in the Atlantic, at the same time he commented on her captain’s foolhardiness in not transhipping his passengers.

“Is it Captain Simpson you are referring to?” asked the agent.

“Yes,” returned the Yankee.

“Wall,” said the agent, imitating the American’s leisurely drawl, “I guess you had better speak to him yourself. He’s in the next room.”

In 1899 the famous old ship caught fire in the Thames and had to be scuttled. After being raised and repaired she was sold to Savill of Billiter St., who ran her until 1902 when she was dismasted and so damaged on the passage out to Port Chalmers that they decided not to repair her. She was subsequently towed to Sydney from New Zealand at the end of a 120-fathom hawser, and later taken round to Western Australia where she was converted into a coal hulk.

And here is a description of her as she lies at her moorings in Fremantle harbour:—

“Loch Maree”—the Fastest of the Lochs.

The Loch Maree was also launched in September, 1873. She was an especially beautiful ship in every way and the fastest probably, of all the “Lochs, Barclay, Curle were instructed to spare no expense in making her as perfect as an iron ship could be, and she certainly came up to her owners’ expectations, both in her looks, her outfit as an up-to-date passenger clipper, her speed, and her behaviour as a sea boat.

Underneath a poop of over 50 feet in length, she had her first class passenger accommodation arranged on the plan adopted in the P. & O. steamers.

She crossed three skysail yards, had a full outfit of stunsails and other flying kites, and the following spar plan will give one an approximate idea of her sail area.

Loch Maree’s start in life was an unfortunate one. On 5th November, 1873, she sailed from the Clyde for Melbourne under Captain MacCallum with a full cargo, 11 saloon and 30 second cabin passengers, and the following is an account of her maiden voyage, which was given me by one of her apprentices:—

Loch Maree’s times, both out and home, from this date were generally amongst the half-dozen best of the year. Captain Grey, R.N.R., had her on her second voyage and then Captain Scott took her.

In 1878, when homeward bound from Melbourne, the Lizard was sighted on the 68th day out, but the passage was spoilt by hard easterly winds in the Channel.

In 1881, the Loch Maree made Port Phillip Heads on 19th July, 70 days out from the Channel. On 29th October she left Geelong homeward bound. When a day out she was spoken by the three-masted schooner Gerfalcon off Kent’s Group, and that was the last seen of her. It is significant that another big ship, the North American, a transformed Anchor Line steamer, disappeared at the same time, also homeward bound from Port Phillip.

The Tragedy of the “Loch Ard.”

The ill-fated Loch Ard was the largest vessel owned by Aitken & Lilburn until Barclay, Curle built those two splendid four-posters, the Lochs Moidart and Torridon.

Her maiden passage was one of the unluckiest on record. She lost her masts almost before she had cleared the land and put back to the Clyde to refit. She made a second start on 26th January, 1874, and again, whilst running her easting down, was badly dismasted, only the mizen lower mast and 15 feet of the mainmast being left standing. After rolling in the trough of the sea for four days of the greatest peril her crew managed to get her under a jury rig, and she took 49 days to cover the 4500 miles to Hobson’s Bay, where she arrived on 24th May, 118 days from the date of her second start.

As I have already related, the year 1874 was a disastrous one for dismastings; and when the Loch Ard struggled into Melbourne, she found the John Kerr and Cambridgeshire, both on their maiden voyages, lying there in a similar plight to her own. Besides these ships and the Loch Maree, the following were also dismasted this year on their maiden passages:—Rydal Hall, Norval, Chrysomene and British Admiral. The latter was refitted in England, only to be wrecked on her second attempt, on King’s Island, on 23rd May, 1874, with great loss of life.

The Loch Ard on her unfortunate maiden passage had been commanded by Captain Robertson, who, also, was skipper of the Loch Earn when she collided with the Ville du Havre. On her third voyage the Loch Ard was taken by Captain Gibb, who was a stranger to Australian waters. He married just before sailing. The Loch Ard left Gravesend on 2nd March, 1878. She was spoken by the John Kerr, Captain W. Scobie, on 9th April. But between 5 and 6 on the morning of 1st June, the day after the John Kerr had arrived in Hobson’s Bay, the Loch Ard went ashore 27 miles from the Otway, at Curdies’ Inlet, between Port Campbell and Moonlight Head.

Out of 52 souls on board, only two were saved, an apprentice and a passenger. About these two a romance has been woven, which would have done for Clark Russell. Tom Pearce, the apprentice, displayed such gallantry and pluck in saving the passenger, Miss Carmichael, that he became the hero of the hour in Australia. He was one of those people, however, who have the name “Jonah” attached to them by sailors, for a year later he suffered shipwreck again, in the Loch Sunart, which was piled up on the Skulmartin Rock, 11th January, 1879. The story goes that Tom Pearce was washed ashore and carried up in a senseless condition to the nearest house. This happened to be the home of Miss Carmichael, who fittingly nursed him back to health, with the proper story book finish that he married her. Whether this is true or not, Pearce lived to be a Royal Mail S.P. captain. He finally retired from the sea in 1908 and died on 15th December of that year.

I now commence a series of tables of outward passages to Australia. These have been compiled with as much care as possible, but slips will creep into lists of this kind, and I should be very grateful if any reader who is able to correct a date from an original abstract or private journal would write to me, so that the mistake may be set right in future editions. I have not always filled in a date, as where there was any want of proof I have preferred to leave it blank.

Besides the regular traders, I have tried to include every ship making the outward passage under 80 days, thus we find some of Smith’s celebrated “Cities” and a number of the frigate-built Blackwallers figuring in the lists. As regards outsiders, I have had to omit several ships for want of sufficient data, but I think my lists are complete as far as the regular traders are concerned.

The homeward runs I have had to put in the Appendix for want of space, as this part has run to far greater length than I had contemplated at first.

The races to catch the wool sales will thus be found in Appendix F, under the heading of “The Wool Fleet.”

Notes on Passages to Australia in 1873.

The fine passage of Miltiades and the maiden passages of Samuel Plimsoll and Ben Cruachan I have already described. The 66 days of Thomas Stephens was a very fine performance. She left Gravesend on 30th August, with a very heavy general cargo, which put her down in the water like a sand barge. She crossed the equator in 26° 55′ W. and was then forced over on to the South American coast near Pernambuco by very unfavourable S.E. trades. The meridian of Greenwich was crossed on 12th October in 44° 33′ S. Her best week’s work running down the easting was 2055 miles, and she would have equalled the run of Miltiades but for 48 hours of calm in the neighbourhood of the Otway. She arrived in Melbourne after an absence of only seven months, including nine weeks in London.