The Colonial Clippers

Her officers were chosen from the best ships sailing out of Liverpool, Forbes’ chief mate being McDonald, who succeeded Forbes in command of Marco Polo and afterwards made a great name for himself in command of James Baines.

The regular crew of the Marco Polo numbered 30 men, but 30 other seamen worked their passage, so Forbes could afford to carry on till the last moment, especially as in emigrant ships the passengers were always ready for “pully-hauly,” in order to get exercise, and invariably tailed on to halliard or brace when there was occasion. Marco Polo, of course, had her full outfit of flying kites, and set three skysails on sliding gunter masts, man-of-war fashion, but she did not send aloft a moonsail at the main like her great successors Lightning, James Baines and Champion of the Seas. She had Cunningham’s patent topsails, and on one occasion reduced sail from royals to double reefs in 20 minutes.

Marco Polo’s departure was not allowed to take place without the usual banquet aboard previous to sailing, which was such a custom in the fifties. The dejeuner, as the reporters called it, was served on the ship’s poop under an awning. Mr. James Baines presided, and his partner Mackay and Captain Forbes were vice-chairmen. After the usual round on round of toasts, there was the usual speechifying.

James Baines opened the ball by the customary optimistic speech. Mr. Munn, of the Cunard Company, followed with the hope that as the Marco Polo was the largest ship ever despatched to Australia, so she would be the most prosperous. Mr. Mackay said that he never felt so much responsibility, as he did that day, when he found nearly 1000 souls on board the Marco Polo; and Captain Forbes finished up by the characteristic remark that “he judged from the appearance of her sticks and timbers that she would be obliged to go; and that they must not be surprised if they found the Marco Polo in the River Mersey that day six months.”

This prophecy the people of Liverpool duly saw fulfilled. The Marco Polo was advertised to sail on the 21st June, but she did not actually sail until Sunday, 4th July.

The following is the first shipping notice of this wonderful ship:—

After sailing on 4th July, the Marco Polo arrived inside Port Phillip Heads at 11 a.m. on 18th September, 1852, after a record passage of 68 days, having beaten the steamer Australia by a clear week. Running her easting down her best day’s work was 364 miles, and in four successive days she covered 1344 miles, an average of 336 a day.

On his arrival in Hobson’s Bay, Captain Forbes found some 40 or 50 ships waiting to sail, held up for want of crews; whereupon he promptly had his own crew clapped into prison on a charge of insubordination, with the result that they were ready to hand when he wanted them and thus he was able to set sail again for Liverpool on 11th October, 1852.

Leaving at 5 a.m. on the 11th, the Marco Polo passed Banks Straits on the 12th and sighted the Auckland Islands on the 17th. On her passage to the Horn she made three successive runs of 316, 318 and 306 miles, and on 3rd November when she made the Horn she logged 353 knots in the 24 hours, the weather being recorded as fine. On the 5th November she passed Staten Island; and on 19th December saw a barque apparently abandoned, and an empty long-boat painted stone colour. Forbes showed blue lights and fired rockets, but, receiving no reply and being naturally in a great hurry, proceeded on his way; and finally arrived off Holyhead at 3 p.m. on Christmas Day and anchored in the Mersey on Sunday, 26th December, 1852, 76 days out from Melbourne and only five months and 21 days out on the whole voyage.

This was so much a record that many shipping people when they recognised her lying in the Mersey thought that she must have put back disabled in some way.

And the story goes that a waterman, meeting James Baines in the street, said:—“Sir, the Marco Polo is coming up the river.” “Nonsense, man,” returned Mr. Baines, “the Marco Polo has not arrived out yet.” Less than an hour after this assertion, James Baines found himself face to face with Captain Forbes.

When the ship hauled into the Salthouse Dock, the quays were crowded with people. Between her fore and main masts a huge strip of canvas was suspended with the following painted on it in huge black letters:—The Fastest Ship in the World.

On this passage she again beat the Australia by more than a week, many bets having been made in Melbourne as to which ship would arrive first. After such a voyage Marco Polo was at once considered to be the wonder of the age and people flocked from all parts of England to see her.

Her officers declared that she made 17 knots an hour for hours together; and Doctor North, the chief Government surgeon on board, who had been in the ship Statesman when she made her celebrated passage of 76 days from Plymouth to Australia, declared that the Marco Polo was by a long way the fastest vessel he had ever sailed in and vastly superior to the Statesman.

The Marco Polo brought home £100,000 in gold dust, and her officers related that on her arrival out she was surrounded by boats, the occupants of which threw small nuggets amongst her passengers. She also brought home a nugget of 340 ounces, purchased by the Government of Victoria as a present for the Queen.

“Marco Polo’s” Second Voyage to Australia.

After such a record voyage, I find the following notice advertising her second departure for Australia.

Before the Marco Polo was hauled out of the Salthouse Dock for her second voyage, another large dejeuner was given on board, at which testimonials were presented to Captain Forbes and Charles McDonald, his first officer. The usual flowery speeches were made, but the remarks of Bully Forbes were especially characteristic. He said that “as regards his recent voyage, he had done his best and he could not say he would do the same again, but if he did it, he would do it in a shorter time. (Laughter.) He was going a different way this time, a way that perhaps not many knew of, and the Antelope must keep her steam up or he would thrash her (referring to the challenge of a race round the world sent him by Captain Thompson, of the steamer Antelope). Captain Thompson only wanted to get outside Cape Clear and he could make a fair wind into a foul one. (Laughter.) That he (Forbes) would do his best for the interests of his employers and while the Black Ball Line had a flag flying or a coat to button, he would be there to button it.”

The Marco Polo sailed on her captain’s favourite day and also on the 13th of the month, namely, on Sunday, 13th March, 1853. She had on board 648 passengers and £90,000 of specie. The emigrants were composed chiefly of men of the artisan class, and there were very few women amongst them. This seemed to be a matter of great regret, and as the ubiquitous newspaper reporter had it:—“One young gentleman, whose incipient moustache and budding imperial showed that he was shaping his course for the diggings, was heard to express his sorrow that there were not more ladies, as ‘they exercised such a humanising tendency on mankind, don’t you know.’” The reporter goes on to describe how one of the passengers was arrested for burglary just before sailing and his luggage found to be full of jewellery and watches; and how a first class passenger (who had left a good legal practice for the land of nuggets), dressed in huge sea boots, a blue shirt and marine cap, lent a ready hand in hoisting the anchor and setting the sails and joined in “the boisterous refrains of the sailors with evident pleasure.” The anchor was weighed soon after 10 o’clock and the Marco Polo was towed to sea by the Independence. The day was beautifully fine, and James Baines and his partner Miller proceeded in the ship to beyond the N.W. Lightship, returning in the tug.

Bully Forbes was in a very confident mood, and, as soon as the ship was under weigh, had his passengers called together and addressed them as follows:—“Ladies and gentlemen, last trip I astonished the world with the sailing of this ship. This trip I intend to astonish God Almighty!” Then turning to his ebony cook, who went by the name of Doctor Johnson, he said:—“Search well below, doctor, and if you find any stowaways, put them overboard slick.”

“Ugh, ugh!” chuckled the sable doctor as he shuffled below. In a short time he reappeared with an Irishman whom he had found concealed in the quarters of a married couple.

“Secure him and keep a watch over the lubber, and deposit him on the first iceberg we find in 60° S.,” growled Forbes, with mock fierceness. The stowaway, however, was returned in the tug with the ship’s owners.

The Marco Polo’s best runs on the outward passage were the following:—

These were nothing extraordinary; however she again made a very good passage and arrived at Melbourne on 29th May, 75 days out. She left Melbourne again at 5 p.m. on 10th June, with 40 cabin passengers and £280,000 of gold dust.

Her best runs this passage were, of course, made on the way to the Horn, being:—

But on the 23rd in 60° S. her progress was severely stopped by large quantities of small ice, which tore all the copper off her bow.

On the 26th June, when in 141° W., a large ship was sighted astern which proved to be Money Wigram’s famous Blackwaller Kent, which had sailed 5 days ahead of Marco Polo.

From 27th June to 1st July only small runs could be made, the ship being surrounded by ice, but with strong northerly winds to help her, she cleared the ice on the 1st and at once started to make up time, running 303 miles on 2nd July, 332 on the 3rd, 364 on the 4th and 345 on the 5th. And on 18th July in 49° 30′ S., with strong S.W. wind, she made her last run of over 300.

However, in spite of these fine runs to the southward, the passage was a good deal longer than Forbes anticipated, as Marco Polo was 95 days out when, on 13th September she arrived in the Mersey.

Nevertheless she had made the round voyage in the very good time of exactly 6 months, and when Captain Forbes appeared “on Change” about 1 o’clock on the 13th “the cheering was long and loud and he received a hearty welcome from all the merchants assembled.”

After-Life of “Marco Polo.”

At the end of her second voyage Bully Forbes left the Marco Polo to take over the Lightning, and was succeeded by his chief mate Charles McDonald.

Leaving Liverpool in November, 1853, with 666 passengers, McDonald took her out in 72 days 12 hours or 69 days land to land, and brought her home in 78 days. Then he left her to take over the James Baines and a Captain W. Wild had her. By this time it is probable that she was getting pretty badly strained, being a soft-wood ship, and whether Captain Wild and his successor Captain Clarke were not sail carriers or did not like to press her too much, I do not know, but her fourth and fifth voyages were not specially good, her times being:—

She was still, however, a favourite ship, taking 520 passengers out and bringing home 125,000 ounces of gold under Captain Clarke.

On her sixth voyage she for the first time got into trouble as she parted her tow rope when leaving the Mersey and got aground off the Huskisson Dock, after first colliding with a barque at anchor in the river. However she came off on the flood without damage and sailed for Melbourne on 7th December, 1855, arriving out on 26th February, an 83-day passage. In 1856 she went out in 89 days, leaving Liverpool 5th September.

Her most serious mishap was on her passage home in 1861, when she collided with an iceberg on 4th March. Her bowsprit was carried away, bow stove in and foremast sprung; in fact, so seriously was she damaged that she was very near being abandoned. Eventually, however, she managed to struggle into Valparaiso after a month of incessant pumping. Here she was repaired and, continuing her voyage, at length arrived at Liverpool on 21st August, 183 days out from Melbourne.

Though Messrs. James Baines sold her to another Liverpool firm in the early sixties, she still continued regularly in the Melbourne trade, and as late as 1867 I find another fine passage to her account, which is thus described by Captain Coates in his Good Old Days of Shipping:—“Captain Labbet, of Brisbane, once told me that in January, 1867, he took passage home in the steamship Great Britain. The Marco Polo left at the same time and was soon lost sight of. A week later the look-out man of the Great Britain reported a sail right ahead, and shortly afterwards expressed his belief that it was the Marco Polo, in which ship he had previously sailed. His opinion, however, was scoffed at; on the ship being neared he proved to have been right. She was again distanced and the Great Britain made what was esteemed a good passage. On taking the pilot off Cork, the first question asked was:—“Have you seen the Marco Polo?” The reply came:—“Yes, she passed up 8 days ago.” She had made the passage in 76 days.

Most Notable Clippers of 1853.

The Marco Polo was followed across the Atlantic by numerous other Nova Scotian built ships from the yards of W. & R. Wright and Smith.

The most notable of these were the Ben Nevis, which arrived during the summer of 1852, and the Star of the East, Miles Barton, Guiding Star and Indian Queen, which arrived at Liverpool in 1853. All these ships were intended to lower the colours of Marco Polo, but not one of them succeeded in doing so, though they made some very good passages.

“Ben Nevis.”

The Ben Nevis was the first ship owned by Pilkington & Wilson. She was, however, too short and deep for her tonnage, her measurements being:—

Commanded by Captain Heron, she sailed for Melbourne on 27th September, 1852, with 600 passengers, a cabin passage in her costing £25, and she took 96 days going out.

The “Star of the East.”

A far more worthy ship to compete with the Marco Polo was the Star of the East, which arrived in Liverpool on 5th March, 1853, 20 days out from St. John’s against strong N.E. winds. She was built by W. &. R. Wright, her dimensions being:—

The following are some of her spar measurements:—

At the time of her launch she was considered the finest ship ever built at St. John’s. On her arrival in Liverpool she was at once bought by Mr. James Beazley, having cost him when ready for sea £22,683. She loaded for Australia in the Golden Line, and went out to Melbourne in 76 days under Captain Christian, late of Beazley’s Constance. From Melbourne she went to Sydney and loaded across to Shanghai; then sailing from Shanghai in the favourable monsoon, arrived home in 104 days, 4 of which were spent anchored off Gutztaff Island in a typhoon. The whole voyage only occupied 9 months 27 days, and she cleared £8018 clear profit. Her second voyage on the same route she did still better, clearing £8920.

The “Miles Barton.”

The Miles Barton measured:—

She also was bought by James Beazley and loaded in the Golden Line. On her maiden voyage she went out to Melbourne in 82 days, and followed up this performance with two trips of 76 days each.

The “Guiding Star.”

Arrived in Liverpool in October, 1852, and was at once chartered by the Golden Line for £12,000, considered a huge sum in those days. Her life, however, was not a long one, as she was lost with all hands between January and April, 1854, and it was generally supposed that she became embayed and back-strapped by a huge ice island in about 44° S., 25° W.

Tragic encounters with ice were by no means unusual in the fifties when every passage maker was trying to follow out Maury’s instructions by running far down into southern latitudes in search of strong fair winds.

The “Indian Queen.”

The Indian Queen, 1041 tons, the most notable Black Baller launched in 1853, and advertised as Marco Polo’s sister ship, was a very fast vessel, her first voyage to Australia being made in 6 months 11 days, and in 1855 she came home from Hobart in 78 days. In 1859 she narrowly escaped the fate of Guiding Star. On 13th March, 1859, she sailed from Melbourne for Liverpool under Captain Brewer, with 40 passengers and the usual cargo of wool and gold dust. All went well until she was half way to the Horn, when on the 27th March the weather became thick with a strong N.W. wind and heavy westerly swell.

On the 31st March she was in 58° S., 151° W. by account; the day was wet, foggy and very cold and the ship logged a steady 12 knots with the wind strong at N.W. At 2 a.m. on the following morning those below were aroused by a violent shock, the crash of falling spars and a grinding sound along the port side, and the first of the frightened passengers to arrive on the poop found the ship lying broadside to broadside with an immense iceberg. All her spars and sails above the lower masts were hanging over the starboard side, the foremast was broken off close to the deck and was held at an angle by its rigging, the mainyard was in half, the bowsprit was washing about under the bows, and though the mizen topmast was still standing the topsail yard was in two, broken in the slings.

The night was dark and rainy and at first the watch below and passengers thought that all was lost. They found no one at the wheel, the port life-boat gone, and not a soul on the poop, but they were somewhat reassured by the appearance of the carpenter who had been sounding the pumps and pronounced the ship to be making no water. Then the second mate appeared aft and announced that the captain, mate and most of the crew had gone off in the port life-boat. Apparently there had been a disgraceful panic which involved even the captain, who actually left his own son, an apprentice, behind on the ship.

However those who had been so shamefully deserted began to buckle to with a will, headed by the second mate, Mr. Leyvret, and the cool-headed carpenter, a man named Thomas Howard. Passengers, cooks, stewards and those of the crew left on board were promptly divided into watches, the captain’s son was sent to the wheel, and whilst some set about clearing up the raffle of gear and getting things ship-shape as far as possible, others shovelled the ice, which lay in masses on the decks, overboard.

With some difficulty the crossjack was backed and the head of the spanker hauled in. At the same time the boat was perceived tossing in the swell on the port beam and apparently endeavouring to regain the ship, and faint cries for help could be heard against the wind. She seemed to be without oars and with sea after sea washing over, she was soon swept past the ship by the back wash off the ice and lost sight of in the fog never to be seen again. The ship, though, with the backed crossjack, began to drift along the side of the berg and presently dropped clear of it into smoother water to leeward.

Day now began to break and all hands set about cutting away the wreck, but the mainyard and the rest of the raffle hanging from the stump of the mainmast was hardly clear before the terrible cry of “Ice to leeward!” arose and a huge berg appeared looming out of the mist. The crossjack was at once braced up, the spanker set and the foresail trimmed in some fashion or other, then in a tense silence the survivors watched the ship slowly forge ahead and, dragging the wreck of masts and spars and torn sails along with her, weather the new danger by a bare 100 yards. And scarcely had she done so when the foremast fell crashing on to the long-boat, the other boats having been already stove in by falling spars. The next business was to get the wreck of the foremast over the side and clear of the ship. Here the carpenter displayed the greatest coolness and skill, being ably backed up by the second mate and the 4 seamen left on board. With the last of the wreck overside, time was found to muster the survivors, when it was discovered that the captain, chief mate and 15 men had been lost in the port life-boat, leaving behind the second mate, carpenter, bosun, 4 A.B.’s, 1 O.S. and 2 boys, besides the cooks, stewards, doctor, purser, and passengers who numbered 30 men, 3 women and 7 children.

A course was now steered for Valparaiso, some 3800 miles away. It was not until the 7th April that the ship got finally clear of the scattered ice, but on the 3rd the wind came out of the south and with a lower stunsail and main staysail set on the main, the ship began to make 3 or 4 knots through the water.

One iceberg of huge size and square like a mountainous box was only just cleared before it broke in two, the smaller portion bursting into the sea like an avalanche, and sweeping a huge wave in front of it, did not bring up until it was 2 to 3 miles away from the rest of the berg. The last ice was seen in 54° S., it being reckoned that the accident had happened in 60° S.

As soon as 49° S. was reached, a direct course was shaped for Valparaiso. Sheers were now rigged and a topmast secured to the stump of the foremast, then topsail yards were crossed on the jury foremast and mainmast, which improved the ship’s progress another knot. In this condition the Indian Queen slowly wandered north, weathering out gale after gale. On the 7th May a welcome sail was sighted. This proved to be the New Bedford whaler La Fayette, whose captain boarded them, offered them every assistance and corrected their longitude, which was 3° out. On the following day the French man-of-war Constantine appeared and promised to convoy them in. On the 9th May land was made some 20 miles south of Valparaiso, and on the morning of the 10th, as the crippled Indian Queen approached the Bay, the boats of H.M.S. Ganges, 84 guns, came out to her aid and towed her in to the Roads, where she anchored safely, just 40 days after her collision with the iceberg.

The Famous “Sovereign of the Seas.”

My notes on the emigrant ships sailing from Liverpool in 1853 would not be complete without some mention of the celebrated American clipper Sovereign of the Seas. This ship was built by Donald Mackay for the American Swallowtail Line and at the time of her launch, June, 1852, was hailed as the largest merchant ship in the world, her measurements being:—

Her lower masts from deck to cap were:—
Foremast 89 feet; mainmast 93 feet; mizen 82 feet.

Her lower yards measured in length:—
Foreyard 80 feet; mainyard 90 feet; crossjack yard 70 feet.

And her topsail yards:—
Fore topsail yard 63 feet; main 70 feet; mizen 56 feet.

She spread 12,000 yards of canvas in her working suit.

On her maiden voyage she carried a crew of 105 men and boys, including 2 bosuns, 2 carpenters, 2 sailmakers, 3 stewards, 2 cooks, 80 A.B.’s and 10 boys before the mast. She was commanded by Donald Mackay’s younger brother, Captain Lauchlan Mackay, one of the best known skippers in the United States.

Loading 2950 tons of cargo and receiving 84,000 dollars freight, she sailed from New York for San Francisco on 4th August, 1852; and considering the season of the year, she made a wonderful run south, crossing the equator in 25 days and reaching 50° S. in 48 days.