The Colonial Clippers

Mermerus arrived Melbourne on 24th July, 88 days from the Lizard, and Thomas Stephens was 87 days from Antwerp to Sydney, arriving on 20th October.

The Milton Park was an iron ship of 1500 tons, built by McMillan, of Dumbarton in 1882, a typical Clyde-built ship. The Bay of Cadiz was one of the Cardiff “Bays.” Siren was one of Carmichael’s, a 1482-ton ship, built in 1881. She had a number of fine passages to her credit, and came to a curious end, being rammed and sunk by H.M.S. Landrail off Portland in July, 1896.

We have now had 12 years of outward tables, and space and, no doubt, the patience of the reader are both growing exhausted.

However, as these beautiful ships kept up their wonderful averages until well into the nineties, fighting all they knew against the ever-growing competition of steam, I give here a table of times from the Channel to port from the year 1886 to 1894 for the seven most regular ships in the trade.

“Mount Stewart” and “Cromdale,” the last of the Wool Clippers.

The last two ships to be built specially for the Australian wool trade were the magnificent steel skysail-yard ships Mount Stewart and Cromdale. The former was launched in May, 1891, and the latter in June, both from Barclay, Curle’s yard. They were identical sister ships, and were the very latest development of the full-rig ship. They were of course good carriers, with the modern short poop and long sweep of main deck. Yet, in spite of their carrying powers, they both made some excellent passages out and home.

The Cromdale was specially lucky in having Captain E. H. Andrew as her first master, a very experienced and up-to-date sailing ship captain, who had been mate under his father in the Derwent.

The Cromdale came to grief in 1913 when commanded by Captain Arthur. She was 126 days out, bound home from Taltal with nitrate and was heading for Falmouth. There had been a dense fog for some days, when, most unfortunately, a steamer was passed which advised Captain Arthur to alter his course. Not long after a light was suddenly seen through the fog ahead, but before the ship could be put about she struck on the rocks right at the foot of a cliff. This proved to be Bass Point, close to the Lizard light. The ship was so badly holed that the captain ordered the boats out at once. Luckily it was calm weather, and some rockets brought the Cadgwith and Lizard lifeboats upon the scene, but the Cromdale settled down so quickly that there was only just time to save the ship’s papers and the crew’s personal belongings. Lying on the rocks in such an exposed position, it was of course hopeless to think of salving the ship, and the Cromdale became a total loss.

The Mount Stewart is, I believe, still afloat, and still has Aberdeen on her stern.

Perforated Sails.

At first glance a sail with a hole in it would hardly be considered superior to a sail without one, yet sails with holes in them, or perforated sails, as they were called, became quite popular with the most experienced of our sailing ship skippers in the early nineties.

Perforated sails were said to be the idea of an Italian shipmaster in the eighties. This Italian captain’s theory was that a cushion of air or dead wind, as he called it, was collected in the belly of every sail, and acted as a buffer, thus preventing the sail from receiving the whole strength of the wind. He advocated making a hole in the centre of the belly in order to allow this cushion of air to escape, and allow the true wind to blow against the surface of the sail. An important point was the proper placing of these holes; in fore and aft sails they were cut about the centre of the belly made by the clew; the holes in square sails were also cut near the clews, but they were also cut higher up in the sail on a line from the clews to the bunt: topsails and courses generally had the four holes and topgallant sails and royals only two, one in the lower part of the sail towards the clew on each side. These holes were from 5½ to 6 inches in diameter and roped with grammets.

It is easy to understand that this system was more advantageous when one was close-hauled than when running free. But even when running free many shipmasters claimed that it had its merits and held that, though wind certainly did escape through the holes, it was mostly dead wind and even then was caught up again—the mizen by the main, and the main by the fore, so that in the end there was very little real wind that did not do its work in sending the ship along.

A further advantage of perforated sails was their aid in spilling the wind out of a sail when the sail had to come in in heavy weather. The advocates of the holes claimed that they prevented a sail from ballooning up over the yard, and made it very much easier to muzzle and put the gaskets on.

The perforated sails were also considered very useful in light airs and calms, because on the calmest day there always seemed to be a draught through the holes, and this kept the sails “asleep” and stopped that irritating flogging of canvas against the masts which is so trying to a skipper’s temper and also constantly necessitates the hauling up of courses in the doldrums.

Captain Holmes, who always used them in the Cimba and Inverurie, wrote to me that he considered them specially valuable in light winds, and he did not adopt perforated sails without testing their efficiency in every way he could.

He even had sand bags made to fit the holes, and thus was able to test his sailing when in company with another ship, first by seeing how he did with holes, and then filling up the holes with sandbags, by seeing how he altered his bearing when without holes.

By this means he proved the benefit of the holes very clearly once when going down Channel.

The Cimba was in company with another outward bound ship of nearly the same speed; and it was found that as soon as the sand bags were put in the holes the Cimba began to drop astern, whereas, with the holes open, she went ahead. Captain Holmes also tied a rag on the end of a stick, and held it up to the holes, and even in very light airs the rag was sucked through the perforations. In this way with a handkerchief on the end of a long rod, he tried to find out the result of the holes on the crossjack, by walking it all over the after part of the sail. And he told me that the handkerchief flopped stupidly about in the dead wind until it was abreast of the holes, when it at once blew out straight.

Captain Pattman, of Loch Torridon, adopted perforated holes in 1892: Captain Poppy used them on the Aristides, and Captain Cutler, when he took over Port Jackson, had her sails cut for holes, and his successor continued to keep them in the sails.

All these four captains were noted passage-makers, and unless the perforated sails had had very certain advantages, it is hardly likely that they would have adopted them.

Hine’s Clipper Barques.

Before turning to the New Zealand trade I must not forget to mention the fine little fleet of barques belonging to Hine Brothers, of Maryport, which brought home wool from Adelaide, Brisbane and the two Tasmanian ports.

The following will still be remembered by the older inhabitants of these ports.

They were rarely much over 80 days going out, and generally under 90 days coming home.

The Myrtle Holme, under Captain Cobb, and the Eden Holme, under Captain Wyrill (late of Berean) had perhaps the best records, and maintained their fine average right into the twentieth century.

For instance, in 1899 Captain Wyrill brought the Eden Holme from Launceston to the London River in 88 days after experiencing 17 days of calms and variables to the north of the line. This was her fourth passage out of six, in which she had come home in less than 90 days from Tasmania.

In 1895, the Myrtle Holme went from Beachy Head to Adelaide in 77 days, and in 1901 went from Dover to Adelaide in 81 days; whilst in 1902 the Eden Holme went from the Start to Launceston in 83 days.

The Eden Holme, Brier Holme and Castle Holme were all transferred to the Tasmanian trade from that of Adelaide on the death of Mr. Walker and the dispersal of his fleet.

The Eden Holme was wrecked on Hebe Reef in 1907. The Myrtle Holme was sold to Arendal, Norway, and renamed Glimt, a few years before the war. She was torpedoed in the North Sea in 1915.