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The Cover: En route to San Francisco

during her maiden voyage, the clipper ship
Golden State slashes across a stretch of
the wintry Atlantic ahead of a rival clipper
in this painting by Leslie A. Wilcox.
The Golden State was launched in
swift
New York in 1853 and sailed the great
trading routes of the world for 33 years.

The Title Page. Cast in 1869, this brass bell

— measuring 13 inches both in height
and in diameter — hung near the forecastle
of the Cutty Sark, the queen of British
clippers.The ship's lookout rang the bell
to announce the time, warn of fog and
tell when the crew was weighing anchor.
The Seafarers

THE CLIPPER SHIPS

C W hippie
by A.B.
AND THE EDITORS OF TIME-LIFE BOOKS

TIME-LIFE BOOKS. ALEXANDRIA. \ IKCIMA

Time-Life Books Ini The Author.
is a wholly owned subsidiary ot
ABC. Whipple, a former Assistant Man-
TIME INCORPORATED aging Editor of Time-Life Books, is an avid
POUNDER: Hm) R Luce 1898-1967 sailor and student of maritime history He
has written 10 books about ships and the
Editor-in-Chief Henry Analole Crunwald
sea. including The Whalers and Fighting
Chairmon of the Board Andrew Heiskell
President lanies K Sheples
Sail in The Seafarers series and a general
Editorial Director Ralph (..'
history. Tall Ships and Great Captains.
Vi< > Chairrnun Arthur Temple
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-• (instable. George G Daniels (acting). bridge University, he fought in World War
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Art Director Tom Suzuki
Royal Navy. He has published many his-
Research David L Harrison
torical studies such as The Discovery of
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the Sea, Trade and Dominion and Europe
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dent! Nk holas Benton (public relations).
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Comptroller. George Artandi degree. A naval architect and engineer, he
has drawn the reconstruction plans for 22
The Seafarers historic sailing vessels.
Editorial Staff for The Clipper Ships. fN
David R. MacGregor. who was educated at
Editor )im Hicks
Designer Herbert H Quarmby Cambridge University, is a noted author,
Chief Researcher W Mark Hamilton draftsman and marine artist. His paintings
Picture Editor: Peggy L Sawyer have been exhibited in London, and his
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Sterling Seagrave
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The Tea Clippers and Fast Sailing Ships.
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Correspondents: Elisabeth Kraemer (Bonn); Margot Library of Congress Cataloguing in Publication Data
Hapgood. Dorothy Bacon. Lesley Coleman (London); Whipple Addison Beet her Cnlvin. 1918-
Susan lonas. Lucy T Voulgaris (New York|. Maria The clipper ships.
V'incenza Aloisi. Josephine du Brusle (Paris); Ann (The Seafarers)
Natanson (Rome). Bibliography: p.
Valuable assistance was also provided by: Enid Farmer Includes index.
(Boston): Diane Asselin (Los Angeles): |ohnDunn 1 Clipper ships. I. Time-Life Books.
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nrk). Mimi Murphy (Rome]. |anet Zic h VM19.W54 387.27 84784
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(Washington. D.C). ISBN 0-H094-2678-1 lib. bdg

CATHEDRAL SCHOOL FOR B0Y5

LIBRARY
 Contents

Essay Ships to stir the seafaring heart e

chapter i The zenith of the age of sail ie

chapter 2 A golden lure for clipper builders 46

Essay From mold loft to launch: genesis of a Yankee clipper n

chapter 3 Behind the romance, a bitter test of wills bo

chapter 4 Every sea a racecourse, every voyage a trial of speed 102

Essay A passenger's view of a "most pleasant voyage" 124

chapters "A grand ship that will last forever" 130

Essay Down-easters: a last echo of a vanishing tradition 164

BIBLIOGRAPHY 172

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS 172

PICTURE CREDITS 173

INDEX 174
Ships to stir the seafaring heart

"She was a perfect beauty to every nautical man," one clip-

tptain said of his vessel. "She could do everything
\ever before had ships stirred seafarers
quite the way clippers did. The pride— and hyperbole—
of their masters knew no bounds. "Last trip astonished I

the world." boasted one captain after a record-setting pas-

sage halfway around the world. "This trip I intend to aston-
ish God Almighty."
American shipbuilders produced the first of these ships
in the 1840s. The maritime culmination of a Yankee obses-
sion with speed, they were the fastest, most beautiful wood-
en sailing vessels the world had ever seen— long and lean,
with sharp bows, raked masts and a great cumulus of sail.

Amazed by the clippers' performance, the British soon fol-

owed with versions of their own.
ee a clipper knife through wind-swept seas on a
sprint from New York to San Francisco or between London
and Hong Kong was to witness the quintessence of sailing.
In winds that would cause others to reef sail, clipper cap-
tains flew every possible scrap of canvas, until the masts
quivered at breaking point. Clippers rode tempests like sea
birds, reaching speeds as high as 21 knots, making some
400 miles a day and setting records that would last forever.
Some of the finest portraits of clippers were created by
marine artist J. E. Buttersworth, whose work appears on
these pages. Buttersworth rendered each line with an affec-
tion rarely bestowed on inanimate objects — but that was
only proper. Clippers, declared one admirer, seemed "to
walk the water like a thing of life."
Bound for San Francisco, the newly launched Sovereign of which took 103 days port to port. Her 258-foot hull displays
the Seas hoists her royaJs in afresh breeze off New York in 1852. the concave bow and the champagne-glass stern that were typical
Designed and built by the renowned Donald McKay, she of clipper ships. She was acclaimed by The Boston Daily
sailed under the command of his brother on her maiden voyage. Atlas as "the longest, sharpest, most beautiful ship in the world.'*

*
While a storm jib gives the clipper Young America steerage America was a stout ship in bad weather, and once survived being
way in a howling hurricane, her crew labors to haul in the main- knocked abeam by a whirlwind off Argentina. A favorite of
topsail, which has flown loose from its spar. Built by the shipping merchants because of her fast passages, she commanded
eminent New York shipwright William Webb in 1853, the Young top freight rates, often double what lesser ships earned.
10
Despite signs of ominous weather to starboard, the M mizzen course— the lowest square sail on her rearmost
clipper Westward Ho flies a full suit of sails, with trianguJar jibs mast— remains furled only because it would be blocked on this
at her bow, staysails between her masts, and starboard heading by the huge spanker at her stern. The Westward Ho
studding sails outrigged on her mainmast and foremast. Her was so fast, said one sailor, that she ran "like a scared dog."
12
Preparing/or a squall, the crew of the clipper Stag Hound takes ranking as the Jargest vessel in the American merchant marine
in sail while another clipper, a schooner and a paddle- when she was launched in 1850. Built by Donald McKay
wheeler heel through the whiskery chop. The Stag Hound was one in Boston, she inspired scores of imitators. "Every element in her.
of the first of the sharp-bowed, long, "extreme" clippers, stated the Boston Atlas, "has been made subservient to speed."

,
14

4
 With four masts, miles of rigging and an overaiJ length this portrait from Butfersworth shortly after the vessel's
}. E.
Donald McKay's Great Republic was the largest and
of 335 feet, launching in 1853— anevent attended by 60,000 people. But just
most publicized wooden merchant sailing ship ever built in be/ore the giant clipper set off on her maiden voyage, a fire
America. Lithograph publishers Currier & Ives commissioned in a bakery spread to her dock and burned her to the water line.

I
Chapter 1

The zenith of the age of sail

 17

New York City's waterfront wears a tranquil air in this 1853 lithograph. Brooklyn is seen beyond the East River.
Birthplace of the early clippers,
18 The zenith of the age of sail

n the 1840s a semaphore signal tower stood on Navesink

Highlands, 250 feet above the treacherous spit of Sandy
New York Harbor. The highlands
Hook, near the entrance to
commanded open ocean bounded on the east by
a sweep of
the Long Island shore and on the south by the New Jersey
coast. From this height, incoming ships were visible more than 40 miles
at sea on a clear day. On the crisp Sunday afternoon of March 25, 1849, a

lookout was enjoying the panoramic view from his station under the
tower's long, angular arms. The sea was speckled with whitecaps rip-
pling toward the harbor before a fresh south-southeasterly. White sails
flickered against the blue water as coastal schooners and brigs picked
their way through the channels leading to New York's Upper Bay. Far-
ther off, on the southeastern horizon, one sail in particular caught the
eye of the lookout.
was merely a white speck at first, but the lookout was riveted by the
It

rate at which it grew: The ship was plainly traveling at great speed.
Through his telescope he watched the speck resolve itself into a panoply
of sails rising above the horizon, row by row. First, high atop the ship's
three slender masts, her tiny skysails appeared; next came her royals;
then, under those, her topgallants. Beneath the topgallants flew her
wide, wind-taut topsails and mainsails. And puffing out sideways from
the tips of her yards were tiers of studding sails.
Now the whole vessel was above the horizon, and there was no mistak-
ing her type. The cloud on cloud of canvas she flung to the wind marked
her as one of the awesome new China clipper ships. But, by the lookout's
reckoning, none of these ships should be anywhere near New York Har-
bor this early in the spring. Months before, more than 40 vessels — only a
handful of them clippers — had sailed from New York to China to pick
up the tea crop, which in that region was usually ready for shipping in
January at the earliest. So even the fastest of the returning ships should
now be rounding the Cape of Good Hope or, at best, should be some-
where in the South Atlantic. Yet here, amazingly, was one of the clippers
from the tea fleet.
On she came, racing before the wind, her acres of sails flashing in the
afternoon sun. She looked for all the world like a ship in a painting, so
slight was her vertical movement as she closed on Sandy Hook. An
ordinary sailing ship would lift her bows and plunge with the seas. Not
this one. As her sleek, jet-black hull sliced through the swells, the only
visible motion was the white curl at her bow and an occasional toss of
spray. She seemed to skim the surface of the water like a gigantic black
and white bird— and abruptly she began to fold her wings.
With a flap and a flutter, her studding sails came in from her sides,
making her look leaner and trimmer but scarcely reducing her speed.
Then, a moment later, a blue and white square of bunting rippled to her
masthead, the house flag of Howland & Aspinwall.
The lookout was already certain of her identity; through his glass he
had just made out the golden Chinese-dragon figurehead beneath the
vessel's bowsprit. Still baffled by her presence, he scrawled a message
on his pad for the semaphore operator. The long arms atop the tower
creaked out the message, visible across the bay to the telegraph operator
 19

The Sea Witch, described by The New on Coney Island, who in turn tapped it out on the line to the Howland &
York Herald as "the prettiest vessel we
Aspinwall offices in Manhattan. Though the clipper was still more than
have ever seen," sails to her anchorage in
Whampoa, downriver from Canton, in 20 miles from her berth at the foot of South Street. New York began to
(his Chinese painting. The swift tea buzz with the news that the Sea Witch was home.
clipper made a fortune for her owners and A pilot schooner came pitching out from the harbor, through the Nar-
half-dozen records, some
set at least a
rows off Staten Island and past Sandy Hook, to greet the clipper. Up the
never broken, in her nine-year career.
rope ladder went the pilot who would guide the ship to her moorings [e I

was the first to congratulate Captain Robert H. Waterman on an astonish-

ing feat: He had brought the Sea Witch to New York from Hong Kong, a
voyage that only recently had taken up to six months, in 74 days
This was not the time that Waterman had broken the record for the
first

run from China to New York. On the Sen U'it< h's second voyage two
years earlier. Waterman had raced home from Canton in 77 d.i\ s In t.i< t

before the Sea Witch had been built, he had brought the swift, rakish
some respects—
cotton freighter Natt hi'/.— a forebear of the clippers in
from Portuguese Macao, off the China coast, to New York in 7H ti,i\s
Each of these astounding runs had been hailed as unbeatable b\ the
South Street merchants. Now Waterman had shattered his own best time
by three whole days, and some ot the old captains who joined the regular
gathering at the Astor louse bar the next morning asked one .mother it
I

perhaps Captain Hob bad not found some new route home.
20 The zenith of the age of sail

He had not. Waterman had merely demonstrated that merchant sailing

was well and truly in the throes of a revolution— and that no man could
safely predict how fast these new ships could go. As it turned out, the
achievements of vessels like the Sea Witch would never be equaled in
the history of sail.

For all its came and went with a rapidity

glories, the clipper-ship era
reminiscent of the oceangoing greyhounds themselves. It started in
America in the late 1840s and ended in England only a generation later.
And it never would have occurred at all had it not been for a felicitous set

of circumstances. A tiny group of designers conceived and perfected the

new breed of swift, large ships at the very moment in history when
world-wide trade called for just such vessels. And. as an elite group of
bold, hard-driving captains arose to command the new clippers, they
received invaluable guidance from an American geographer who. by
 21

charting the winds and currents of the oceans, devised new sailing di-
rections that cut days and weeks off long-distance voyages.
The term "clipper" was derived from the word "clip." meaning
"pace," as in "to go at a good clip." Long and lean, with knifelike bows,
the clipper carried loftier masts and wider sails than ever seen before.
With pardonable hyperbole, ship designers and captains claimed that a
clipper's soaring sails included moonrakers, cloud cleaners, skyscrap-
ers, stargazers and. atop them all. an angel's footstool.
Junks and sampans gJide past the
Builders and owners dreamed up a set of ship names that matched the
buildings and pennants of the Western
trading establishments of Canton. clippers' speed and breathtaking beauty. Gone were such workaday ap-
Although business was conducted with pellations as Essex, Elien. and Three Brothers. The proud new (Uppers
bJand cordiality. Western merchants
were called Lightning and Stag Hound. White SquaJI and Hurricane,
had to leave their ships downriver, could
not bring firearms or women into the Meteor and Flying Cloud, Queen of the Clippers and Sovereign of the
city, and were always under surveillance. Seas. So exultant were some of the names that shipper George Francis
22 The zenith of the age of sail

Train mockingly wrote home from Australia: "The Wings of the Morning The entire story of 1 9th Century

came day before yesterday but the L/tter-Most-Parts of the Sea has not
in tea production compressed into this
is

anonymous painting by a Chinese

yet been heard from. Snai], Tortoise or Drone I would suggest for the
artist. Grown and picked in the hills (top),
next clipper. I am names."
tired of these always-a-little-faster tea /eaves were cured in open sheds

The original clipper shipswere built solely for the profitable New (middle), packed in chests and bargained
for by merchants (bottom left), then
York-to-China tea trade. With American customers willing to pay a pre-
ferried by small boats to the foreigners'
mium for the freshest tea, speed of delivery became a primary concern ships lying at anchor (far right).

for merchants. At first, only a few of the most farsighted shipowners

were willing to make the huge investments necessary to construct and
operate the clippers. Then, just as these vessels proved profitable on the
China run. gold rushes in California and Australia drove the demand for
express freight sky-high. Scores of new clippers were hurried to comple-
tion and sent down the ways. They became longer, leaner and swifter
than ever. In the past, few oceangoing vessels had sailed faster than an
average of six knots over a sustained period, and sailors had regarded
150 nautical miles as an excellent day's run. But by the 1850s, powerful
American clippers routinely made 250 miles a day for days at a stretch.
And in 1854 the majestic Champion of the Seas blasted 465 nautical
miles downwind in a single 24-hour period — an average of almost 20
knots— to set a record that would never be beaten by a sailing ship.
Inevitably the fever spread to England and a fleet of smart British
 23

clippers materialized to defy the elements and to race one another in

sail-ripping, spar-cracking, deck-drenching dashes, carrying the tea
from China to London or bringing bales of wool from Australia.
Not only did the clippers race one another, they nobly flaunted their
canvas in the face of a steadily mounting challenge from the plodding
but economical steamship. The oceangoing steamer had in fact preceded
the clipper by nearly three decades and in the 1840s was poised to
eclipse all merchant sailing ships. But not until the 1880s did one of
these steamers attain the speed of the fastest clipper. By that time, most
of the great clippers had disappeared from the seas.

The beginnings of the American clipper ship predated the American

nation itself. From the colonial period onward, speed was of major im-
portance in American ships. Parliament in London passed harsh laws
that restricted colonial trade, and that consequently made smuggling—
which required fast ships— highly profitable. During the Revolutionary
War the Americans were successful in few naval battles: All but a hand-
ful of the vessels in the Continental Navy were sunk or captured. But
swift American privateers won glory and profits by harassing British
shipping. Similar privateers and fast frigates outsailed the Royal Navy
in the War of 1812.
Among the by-products of the second war with Creat Britain were the
rakish,two-masted Chesapeake Bay privateers. These trim, lively little
brigsand schooners of the Chesapeake, modeled on the speedy French
luggers and frigates that had helped the American cause during the
Revolution, became known as Baltimore clippers. Although they were
not called ships by the 19th Century seamen only three-masted, —
square-rigged vessels qualified for that appellation — the Baltimore dip-
pers were direct ancestors of the true clipper ships, if only because of the
whim of a rich merchant.
In 1832 Isaac McKim. a Baltimore trader, commissioned aChesapeake
shipyard to build a three-masted, square-rigged ship that would be mod-
and yet would be capable of sailing
eled on the lines of the local clippers,
to China. McKim's new ship was and handsome, sleek in profile,
large
with a low freeboard and a narrow. V-shaped hull. But at 143 feet in
length and 494 tons burthen, she could carry only one half the load of
conventional full-bodied ships of her size. This did not concern the
wealthy McKim. who spared no expense in her building and fitting out.
The vessel was constructed with frames of live oak. and her hull was
sheathed with copper. Her deck was lavishly adorned with mahogany
hatch coamings and brass capstan heads, and her bow was topped with
the figurehead of a woman. To McKim's satisfaction, she proved to be a
lithe and extremely fast sailer. He named the ship after his wife.
The Ann McKim has often been called the first clipper ship She was
not. Her bow was not so bluff as those of the other ships of the 1830s. but

The 19th Century Chinese tea chest it was still round instead of sharp. Her beam was 27% Feet, wider than

above — which, unlike most tea chests, is that of later clippers of her length. And her keel sloped downward, from
equipped with a brass hasp so that it
11 feet at the bow to 7 teet 1 the stern, whereas true clippers would he
.it
can be padlocked — may huvc been used
as a presentation box for an assortment
distinguished by flat keels from stem to stern
o/ particularly expensive varieties. Still, there was no doubt that she was something special With her
24 The zenith of the age of sail

svelte lines, she sailed into the wind far better than did most full-bodied,
square-rigged ships of her time. In her prime she was considered to be
An ugly war that led to the clipper era
the fastest merchant vessel afloat. But. because of her expensive fittings
and limited capacity, she was not copied by other shipbuilders, who
:
regarded her as a rich man's indulgence. Mr. McKim's pet ship. When "This war with China. " protested the English educa-

the old grain merchant died in 1837, the Ann McKim was sold to the New tor Thomas Arnold seems so wicked as to be a na-

York firm of Howland & Aspinwall, which by then was looking for fast tional sin of the greatest possible magnitude. " The
Opium War of1840-1842 was wicked indeed: By
ships to add to its China fleet.
military force the British were trying to compel China
Enter John Willis Griffiths. Son of a shipwright, he had been employed
to accept imports of an addictive and destructive
at Virginia's Portsmouth Navy Yard before moving to New York to work
drug. By one of history's ironies, that reprehensible
for the esteemed shipbuilding company of Smith & Dimon. An open-
campaign contributed mightily if indirectly, to the
faced, genial young man with a genius for mathematical insights into advent of the glorious clipper era.
shipbuilding problems, Griffiths became fascinated by the physical laws Britain's East India Company began shipping Indi-
that apply to how a ship proceeds through the water. In the Smith & an opium into China in the 1780s. Six decades later,

Dimon offices. Griffiths investigated the studies of an Englishman, Colo- demand was so great that China's annual payments
nel Mark Beaufoy, who had tested the resistance of different solid objects forwhat a Chinese leader called 'this vile and poison-
when they were towed in a water tank. Beaufoy had determined that ous substance' exceeded the country's profits from
increasing the length of an object "exceedingly diminishes the resis- tea exports by three million dollars. The human costs

tance with which it moves." And. without applying his theories directly were as grimly apparent as the economic
of the trade
costs One British observer visiting a smoking house,
to ship design, Beaufoy recommended that "the bottom of a floating
reported: The couches are filled with occupants who
solid should be made
triangular." or V-shaped, along its whole length.
lie with an idiot smile upon their countenances. A
By 1840 Griffiths had devised his own testing tank to duplicate Beau-
few days of this fearful luxury will impart a haggard
foy's experiments and to measure the resistance of various shapes. He
look to the features: a few months will change the
quickly became convinced that many of the accepted principles of ship strong man into a skeleton
'

design were wrong. In 1839 a high-ranking Chinese official, enraged by

"Cod's head and mackerel tail" was the popular description of the hull
that had dominated merchant sail for two centuries. The round cod's-
head bow smacked and battered the waves as the ship moved through
the water, riding up and over each crest. The narrow stern of the hull left
a clean wake with a minimum of visible turbulence. Griffiths recognized
that this design made a safe ship, comparatively dry on deck because the
seas were shouldered aside. Dependable it was. but fast it was not. no
matter how large the ships or how great their sail area. There was a limit.
Griffiths concluded, to what sails alone could accomplish, because of
the resistance of the round-bowed hull.
At the drafting tables of Smith & Dimon, Griffiths began to work on the
design for a swift new Studying the lines of the Ann McKim, he
vessel.
deduced that it was her lean hull and narrow bow that made her faster
than most of her contemporaries. A vessel with an even-sharper bow
should therefore be an even-faster ship. Griffiths also envisioned a long,
gracefully tapered hull, with the greatest breadth farther aft than on any
earlier ship. And he was convinced that his tank tests had told him
—
something more that the finlike mackerel tail of most ships was caus-
ing drag, an invisible form of suction under their sterns that held them
back. Griffiths' ship would have a stern with a fuller shape, so that the
water running past the long, thin hull would slide smoothly astern.
Published in an influential shipping journal. Griffiths' theories were
at first violently scorned by many older designers and ship captains. A
cardinal principle of ship design, Griffiths' critics all affirmed, was that
the bow must surmount the waves as it moved forward. Allow it to dig
 25

too deeply, they said, and the ship would slide into a solid wall of water
beneath the wave Smart young John Griffiths had worked out
crests.
some interesting concepts in the flat calm of his testing tank, they con-
ceded, but if he ever saw a ship plow into the 50-footers off Cape Horn, he
Britain's refusal to curb the opium traffic, ordered all would forget about his sharp bow. It would cut through those combers,
stocks destroyed Imperial soldiers seized 20.000 all right— bringing them down onto the deck and imperiling the ship.
chests of the drug from English merchants and cast
But Griffiths was convinced that a ship of his new design would be
their contents into the Pearl River at Canton. There
seaworthy as well as fast, and he set out to get a commission. In February
followed two years of naval skirmishes, in which Chi-
of 1841 he prevailed upon the American Institute, a headquarters of
na's antiquated junks proved hopelessly outmatched
marine architecture in New York, to exhibit a small-scale model of the
by Britain's warships. Forced to sue for peace, China
ship he had in mind. Griffiths had no immediate takers for his model
signed the humiliating Treaty of Nanking in 1842. In
addition to mandating the resumption of opium im- but. unbeknownst to him. events were occurring on the other side of the
ports, the agreement ceded Hong Kong to Britain and world that would prompt a pair of enterprising merchants to take a
opened five other ports to foreign commerce. chance on his design.
France and the United States then insisted on simi- About model went on display in New York.
a year after Griffiths'
lar trade concessions The British kept control of the British troops won a bloody victory in Canton. China, ending the
lucrative opium traffic (they stayed in the business two-year Opium War. Before the War. foreigners could trade with China
until 1915). but there was money to be made from only at Canton, and there under tight restrictions. Now a peace treaty
trading in other products. American ships were soon
ceded Hong Kong to the British and opened up four ports— in addition
plying the China route in increasing numbers, bring-
to Canton — to traders from all Western nations: Amoy. Foochow.
and handcrafted goods. The perishability
ing back tea
Ninghsien and Shanghai. As a result. New York shipbuilders were
of tea inevitably led to aneed for faster ships, and
America's clipper builders answered the call.
swamped with orders for new vessels capable of making the voyage
down the Atlantic, around the Cape of Good Hope, across the Indian
Ocean, up through the China Sea and back, a round-trip distance of
Inside a Chinese opium den the proprietor offers a pipe to
an addict, while other users JoiJ in dreamv lassitude. some 30.000 miles.
Americans were becoming avid customers for Chinese goods— tea.
silks, cinnamon, firecrackers and much more. The United States, now

more than half a century old. had entered an age of prosperity, and there
was money to be had for luxuries as well as necessities. In Boston.
Philadelphia and New York, city dwellers were forming an acquaint-
ance with the many different varieties of Chinese tea — Hyson and
Bohea, Imperial and Gunpowder. Lumking and Mowfoong — and were
also learning about their perishability; the most delicate teas became
moldy in sea air. With the East Coast cognoscenti clamoring to pay large
premiums for the freshest tea. merchants began paying more to shipping
companies that could deliver it within a few months instead of half a
year. Suddenly there was money to be made for each day saved in trans-
portation. Moreover, there was the promise of fabulous profits to the
owners of the first tea-laden China trader to reach New York with sam-
ples of the new year's crop.
Among the shrewdest shippers were the Messrs. Howland and Aspin-
wall of New York, who had been in the China trade more than a decade.
By 1843 they were dispatching several ships to Canton r\rr\ autumn to
await the first and rush home. With the profitable tea market
tea pickings
growing by leaps and bounds. How land and Aspinu .ill d»-< ided to add
another ship to their Chin.i fleet. Dreaming of the killing the) mild (

make with a vessel that was both large and fast, they dot ided to build a
ship based on Griffiths' proposals. The) commissioned the new ship
from Smith & Dimon. She would be called the Rainboiv.
The Rainbow's ribs were aardl) rising from her keel when word ot her

73 8
CATHEDRAL CCHCOL FOR BOYo
LIBRARY
26 The zenith of the age of sail

Shipwrights and laborers swarm over New York City's vast,

timber-streivn Smith8- Dimon shipyard in this 1833 painting. A
few years later, designer John Griffiths would rise/rom their
ranks to become a pioneer of clipper ships. For both his work at
the drafting board and his writings — he was editor of the
periodical American Ship Griffiths was widely regarded as the
era's greatest contributor to the science of shipbuilding.
 .

27

radical design spread along the New York waterfront, and soon a steady
stream of merchants, ship designers and captains were ambling down to
the Smith & Dimon yard to have a look. The older salts could scarcely
believe their eyes. The new ship was as massive as the biggest Atlantic
packets. But her bow was as sharp as that of one of the pert little Balti-
more clippers, nearly concave on each side, and her stern timbers were
rounded like the apple-cheeked bow of a proper ship. The Rainbow must
be turned the wrong way around, they muttered. Put her rudder at the
other end. sail her backward and she might get somewhere. Otherwise
she would drive into the first big ocean swell she met and plunge
straight for the bottom. Even the vessel's rigging irked the oldtimers: The
tall masts Griffiths had designed would go by the boards with the first

puff of a gale. A death ship if there ever was one, the veterans predicted,
and soon they were calling her "Aspinwall's folly."
So pervasive was the criticism that William E. Howland and William
H. Aspinwall grew faint of heart. Aspinwall decided to consult outside
experts, particularly on the subject of those soaring masts. He dis-
patched an agent to England to obtain a second opinion about Griffiths'
proposed combination of slim hull and lofty spars. In the meantime,
work on the Rainbow slowed and Griffiths' new wonder waited, in dan-
ger of being stillborn, in the Smith & Dimon yard. What Messrs. How-
land and Aspinwall did not know was that the Rainbow's competition
was already taking form.

While Griffiths had been drafting his intricate designs on paper, a burly,
hawk-eyed, sideburned veteran of the quarter-deck had been whittling
away at a block of white oak, shaping a model hull that represented his
own ideas for a ship that would excel on the Ghina passage. Relying less
on equations and coefficients than on his own practical observations,
Captain Nathaniel B. Palmer was reaching conclusions that were just as
radical as Griffiths'.
Captain Nat. senior to Griffiths by 10 years, had long familiarity with
the sea. His childhood playground was his father's shipyard in Stoning-
ton, Connecticut, and he grew up sailing catboats on Long Island Sound.
He went to sea at 14 aboard a blockade runner in the War of 1812.
first

then shipped out at 19 on a Stonington sealer. In 1820. at the age ot 2 1

Palmer commanded his own sloop, the Hero, on a sealing voyage that
took him so far down the South Atlantic that he became one of the firs!
persons in history to sight the mainland of Antarctica. Palmer went on to
build a reputation as an effective master during the 1830s, when he
skippered cotton packets between New York and New Orleans and gen-
eral cargo packets between New York and Liverpool. In fanuary 184.5
Palmer got his first opportunity to sail on the ln< rative China rim; his
vessel was the bluff-bowed packet ship PauJ /ones. During her plodding
passage he began to speculate on the design ot ship th.it ould in. ike
<i <

the run much faster.

Palmer's instinctive idea lor a new sailing ship bore a striking resem-
blance to Griffiths' design Rainbow, with one signitii ant differ-
for the

ence. Besides a sharp bow and narrow beam, Palmer's haiui-t arved hull
had what he called a "flatter floor." The inspiration tor this teat ure aine (
28 The zenith of the age of sail

from the cotton ships Palmer had skippered for years: They had flatter
bottoms than most vessels— for two reasons that had nothing to do with
a deliberate design for speed. First, the cotton carriers' shallow draft
enabled them to slip over the great bar of sand and mud at the mouth of
the Mississippi River leading to New Orleans— a barrier that would
thwart any large, deep-keeled, V-bottomed vessel. Second, the flat bot-
toms of these vessels allowed more efficient packing of the rectangular
cotton bales. According to ship-design tenets of Palmer's day, the cotton
carriers should have sacrificed a certain amount of speed for these ad-
vantages—but they did not. In fact, they had set new speed records for
the run from New Orleans to New York.
During Palmer's stint on the transatlantic run in the 1830s. he had
persuaded shipowner Edward Knight Collins to commission a couple of
flatter-bottomed ships for the Liverpool trade. Palmer was convinced
that a ship so designed would be able to outrun the conventional full-
bodied packet ships that had dominated the route for the past 20 years.
Soon Collins' Dramatic Line ships were averaging faster passages than
any of the competition's.
Their flat bottoms, in fact, may have had nothing to do with their
speed. Hydrodynamicists never have been able to determine if a flat-
bottomed hull outperforms a hull with a V-shaped bottom. The Dramatic
Line ships may have been faster simply because they were longer; ma-
rine architects do know that increased length definitely does permit a
greater maximum speed. But while other factors may have been respon-
bottoms appeared to
sible, flat make
Collins' Atlantic vessels faster
and Nat Palmer's subsequent espousal of this feature for ships on the
China run would win almost universal acceptance.
Aboard the Paul /ones on its 1843 voyage was one William H. Low,
who had been in Canton representing the New York shipping firm of
A. A. Low & Bro.. in which he was a partner. As the Paul /ones slowly
made her way halfway around the world. Palmer and Low had many
long evenings together. Settling back in the stateroom's leather couch,
they would light up their after-dinner Havanas and study the merits of
Palmer's ship model.
William Low had as much Howland and Aspin-
foresight as Messrs.
wall. plus the courage of his convictions. ThePauJ /ones had hardly tied
up to her wharf on the East River when A. A. Low & Bro. commissioned
the Brown & Bell yard — located at the foot of Stanton Street, less than a
mile from where the unfinished Rainbow sat in her stocks — to lay the
keel for a ship patterned on Palmer's whittled model. And while the
Rainbow's construction continued to be held up by the trepidant firm of
Howland & Aspinwall, the A. A. Low & Bro. ship was rushed to com-
pletion. She was launched Friday, May 3, 1844, and was named the
Houqua, after a much-admired Chinese merchant of Canton who had
died the previous year.
At theHouqua's launching, The New York Herald called the ship "as
sharp as a cutter — as symmetrical as a yacht — as rakish in her rig as a
pirate — and as neat in her deck and cabin arrangements as a lady's
boudoir. Her figurehead is a bust of Houqua, and her bows are as sharp as
a pair of Chinese shoes."
 29

Was theHouqua a clipper ship? Not quite. But she was a long. lean,
lofty-sparred forerunner, perhaps a greater departure from all her prede-
cessors than the true clippers would be from her. With Captain Palmer
on her quarter-deck, theHouqua sailed for Canton on May 31. 1844. She
reached her destination in 95 days. 16 fewer than Palmer had taken on
the Paul /ones the previous year. Her 90-day voyage home beat the Paul
Jones's time on the same run by 23 days.
Although neither Howland nor Aspinwall ever admitted it. the
launching of the Houqua must have helped persuade them to give the
final go-ahead to Smith & Dimon to complete the Rainbow. By the time
Aspinwall's expert had returned from England with a suitcase full of
rigging plans, the Rainbow was nearly finished, and Griffiths shoved the
British blueprints into his drawer. TheRainboiv was launched on Febru-
ary 22, 1845. nearly nine months after theHouqua. The Rainbow, too.
was more an immediate progenitor than a true clipper — sharper, leaner
and loftier than any other large ship, even the Houqua. but not so ex-
treme as the vessels that were to follow. Under the command of veter-
an Captain John Land— in his fifties and known to his crew as "Old
Man Land" — the Rainbow sailed for China with high expectations
for aspeedy voyage.
The image of urbanity in (his portrait, Only a few days out of New York she suffered a setback. Piling on the
dipper captain Nathaniel B. Palmer was canvas. Old Man Land, who by one account never opened his mouth
so rugged that he sometimes stayed
except to bellow orders, had sent her racing down the Atlantic. Then, at
on deck continuousJy/or weeks in stormy
weather, catching short naps in a the height of a stiff gale, all three of her topgallant masts came crashing
topside armchair. He had canniness down with a sickening series of cracks and bangs. Chopping through the
to match: In his periodic role as a clipper
tangle of lines.Land and his crew fished the spars aboard and repaired
designer, he secured a share in the
ships he built, and so became one of the damage while the Rainbow limped along under jury rig.
New York's leading merchants. The mishap foreshadowed many such accidents that would occur
during the clipper-ship era: So finely tuned were the new vessels' spi-
dery networks of shrouds and spars that many clippers lost their top-
hampers during their first voyages, before their captains had an opportu-
nity to judge the amount of canvas the ships were capable of carrying
under various weather conditions.
On this occasion the performance of the Rainbov\- was diminished b\
another factor. Because of the delay in her construction, she had sailed in
the wrong season, leaving New York in the dead of winter and reaching
the China Sea at the time of the adverse monsoon. Forced to tack into the
teeth of the season's prevailng northeast winds. Captain Land took 102
days to reach Hong Kong. By the time he began the return journey with a
valuable cargo of pekoe tea. the monsoon had shifted and the Rainbow
had to sail into southwest winds. Still, she made the trip in 1(12 days. On
that run. Land reported, his ship had attained speeds of 14 knots. More-
over, the Rainbow had set a new record for the whole passage out and
back. And in just one voyage she had earned profits equal to twit B the
cost of her construction.
On her second voyage, that same year. theHoinboM made Hong Kong
in 99 days and raced for home two weeks later with .mother i .irgoof tea.
Storming up the Atlantic. Captain Land raised Sandj Hook in onl\ ha
days, beforeany other returning ship bad brought New York the news oi
the Rainbow's safe arrival in :hina "We met no ship th.it doesn't know
(
30 The zenith of the age of sail

the looks of her heels. The vessel will never be built that can beat her," The name of the venerated Cantonese
Old Man Land crowed to anyone who would listen. merchant Houqua (right) was given to a
clipper-ship precursor (below) and
This boast would soon prove exceedingly hollow. Howland & Aspin-
aJso became a synonym for integrity. Poor
wall had already committed itself to faster ships that would outclass at birth, Houqua managed to amass a

even the Rainbow. In fact, hardly had Captain Land departed on his first fortune of $26 million through impeccably
honest dealings with Western traders.
voyage than the Rainbow's owners commissioned Smith & Dimon to lay
the keel for a new racer to send to China. Howland & Aspinwall ordered
the new ship shortly after the firm's most famous captain. Robert H.
Waterman, had electrified South Street by romping home from Portu-
guese Macao in only 78 days. His ship was the 130-foot cotton packet
Natchez, one of the original speedy flatbottoms whose performance had
so intrigued Captain Nat Palmer. It was true that Captain Bob had drawn
a charmed lot of winds from Aeolus' bag on that run. In fact, he had not The merchant ship Houqua loses
needed to tack the Natchez once during the entire voyage. Under normal her mainmast and upper sections of her
mizzenmast as she heels over in
conditions a packet like the Natchez would have taken weeks longer to
a raging storm. In a 20-year career, the
cover the distance. At the end of that voyage, Waterman received a hero's Houqua made handsome pro/its
greeting from New Yorkers, who were captivated by the vision of China for her owners, A. A. Low 6-Bro., but
encountered more than her share
only 1 1 weeks distant. And
if Waterman could make a record like that in
—
o/mis/ortune including being struck by
the 14-year-old Natchez, Howland and Aspinwall wondered, what a meteor. She eventually vanished
could he do in a sharp new ship? after leaving Yokohama in August 1864.
 31

Again they turned to designer Griffiths. This time, however. Griffiths

worked with Captain Waterman, who devised the new ship's rig and sail
plan. It was a perfect match— the brilliant engineer and the daring cap-
tain — and the melding of these two talents produced what can properlv
be called a true clipper ship.
The Sea Witch had a bow even sharper than that of the Houqua or the
Rainboiv. Her hull lines were as rangy as a pedigreed whippet's. At 170
feet 3 inches in length and 33 feet 1 1 inches in breadth, she was almost
exactly five times longer than she was wide (the length-to-breadth ratio
ofmost packets was about 4 to 1). Perhaps because of the Houquu's great
success, Griffiths gave the Sea Witch a flatter floor than that of the Rain-
boiv. Above the water line the new ship's bow flared outward in graceful
concave curves. No full-bodied bulges marred her midship lines, and
her sleek stern was capped with a short, overhanging transom. Painted
black with a single gold stripe, she sported an aggressive Chinese dragon
for her figurehead. The Sea Witch was launched on December 8. 1840.
She was Griffiths' masterpiece.
Yetwas Captain Waterman's contribution that provided the power
it

Sea Witch's hull. At Waterman's behest. Griffiths made the

to drive the
Sea Witch the loftiest ship afloat. Her mainmast soared more than 140
feet, as tall as a 14-story building. It carried the usual mainsail, topsail
and topgallant, with above them, and atop them all a cloud-
a royal
scraping skysail. The foremast and mizzenmast also carried five tiers of
sail each. In addition, the Sea Witch was equipped to carry studding

sails— called stunsails by seamen — on extended yards that reached out

on both sides of her normal rigging, even up to her royals. The gaps
between her masts were filled with a number of triangular staysails, and
the stays leading out to the tip of the ship's long bowsprit were hung
with an assortment of jibs and flying jibs. Finally, large spanker sails
could be hoisted up the mainmast and mizzenmast for sailing close to
the wind. Waterman's rig called for more sails than were normally used
by a 74-gun warship three times the Sea Witch's size.
The Sea Witch, like her predecessor the Rainbow, attracted many
visitors while she rose in her stocks in Smith & Dimon's yard. Captain
Nat Palmer walked around her and gave his opinion that she was "likely
to prove very swift afloat." although, he cautioned, her intricate rig
could be sailed only "at great expense, to say nothing of wear and tear."
Whatever the expense. Howland and Aspinwall expected handsome
returns. So lucrative had the China trade become that they sent the Sea
Witch off to Canton in a northwest gale, in December 184t>. knowing full
well that she would have to beat against the winter monsoons to real h
China and that she would arrive too late for the first tea pit k of 1H47.
No doubt Captain Bob Waterman had a part in this decision, so anx-
ious would he have been to set sail. Throughout his areer, Waterman i

was in a hurry. A New York native, born on Man h 4. 180H. he shipped

out at the age of 12 as a cabin boy aboard a China trader. He went switth
up the ladder of promotion on the rigorous transatlantic pa< kets. u hen-
many of the clipper captains would get their training. By 1 H2H. .it 2 1

years of age. he had earned the prestigious rank oi first mate 00 the
famous packet Britannia. Aboard thai ship Waterman gained a reputa-
32 The zenith of the age of sail

The bloodlines of an American thoroughbred

When the first clippers appeared in America in the 1840s. construct hundreds of sharp-bowed brigs and schooners
they so astonished the world that they were hailed as a new ideal for privateering and blockade running. During the
hreed of vessel. In actuality, the hull designs of these ships War of 1812, these vessels came to be called Baltimore clip-
had evolved from three earlier sorts of American craft, pers because so many were built in that city; at the bottom of
shown here in profile views adapted from marine architec- this page they are typified by the Lynx.
turaldrawings called lines plans. The drawings portray a With the coming of peace in 1815. transatlantic trade was
vessel from the side, bottom, bow and stern. Each view resumed in earnest, and by the late 1820s New York and
includes three sets of lines — two straight and one curved Boston shipping firms were energetically competing for
that indicate regularly spaced sections of the hull in three business, promising fast and regular service. The ships
dimensions and convey an accurate impression of shape, born of this competition were the giant Atlantic packets
much as do topographical lines on a map. such as the New York (top rightj. While full-bodied amid-
Typical 18th Century American-built ships such as the ships for efficient cargo stowage, the new packets were
Codrington, directly below, were modeled after British longer, slimmer and faster than older merchant ships.
merchantmen of the period. Short, bluff-bowed craft with The next generation is represented by the clipper Sea

well-rounded cross sections, these vessels could easily Witch (bottom right), which was even longer than the pack-
poke in and out of small American harbors, delivering et ships. And, like the smaller Baltimore clippers, she boast-
goods from England and taking on colonial cargoes. ed a sharp bow and a fine stern. But the Sea Witch was more
The war that broke out between Britain and France in than the sum of her evolutionary parts. She amounted to a
1793 crossed the Atlantic in the form of harassment of quantum leap in ship design and became the prototype for a
American shipping, prompting United States builders to generation of clippers.

!•'. .'<•!

:'t\3lllf If ?/*;

,VK«w>V ifKWWl

Built atNewbury, Massachusetts, in the fall of

1773, the 178-ton Codrington measured 77 feet 1

inch in length and 23 feet 7 inches in breadth,

and had a depth of 12 feet 6 inches. A short, deep,
capacious vessel, the Codrington had two
complete decks, and additional platforms in her
hold for a wide assortment of merchandise.

Although launched as a privateer in Baltimore

during the War of 1812. the 225-ton Lynx was taken
by the British before she could begin her predatory

i rasa
career. She was 97 feet long and 24 feet 4 inches
wide, and had a depth of 10 feet 8 inches. Schooner-
rigged, the Lynx carried six guns and a crew of
40. When she was properly trimmed, her keel sloped
down nearly /our feet from her bow to her stern.
33
34 The zenith of the age of saii

tion as a tough and efficient officer — and a courageous one. The Britan-
nia's Captain Charles Marshall later recalled how, in a North Atlantic
gale, Waterman had dived overboard (presumably after fastening a life
line to himself) to save a sailorwho had fallen from aloft. Nor did
it escape Captain Marshall's attention that the next day Waterman

thrashed the same man for malingering. When Captain Marshall earned
enough money to buy control of his own fleet of ships, one of his first
moves was to promote Waterman to captain.
Waterman's first command was the packet South America, which he
began driving back and forth across the Atlantic in 1833. His second ship
was the Natchez, in which he made his record-breaking passage from
Macao to New York. On that voyage Waterman had transformed the old
cotton packet into a crack China racer. Using the ship's collection of
spare spars for studding-sail poles, and throwing aloft every stitch of
canvas he could dig out of the vessel's sail locker, Waterman had light-
ed a fire under the Natchez' tail, until she practically flew across the
seas to her home port.
Now, aboard the Sea Witch, Waterman was determined to break the
Natchez' record. The Sea Witch, with a hand-picked crew aboard, sailed
from New York on December 23, 1846. Through the winter gales of the
Atlantic and against the monsoon winds, Waterman pushed his new
clipper hard, testing her ability to best the elements. Despite adverse
weather during the whole passage, the Sea Witch reached China in 104
days, two days longer than the Rainbow took on her maiden voyage.
Unlike the Rainbow, however, the new clipper came through with her
top-hamper unscathed. And with favorable winds, she ran her cargo of
tea back to New York in only 81 days. Less than two weeks later, Water-
man and the Sea Witch were off again, this time for Hong Kong. The
familiar struggle against the weather held her time to 105 days. Water-
man raced the Sea Witch home in 77 days, breaking the record he had set
in the Natchez five years earlier. But both of these creditable passages
were about to be overshadowed by the Sea Witch's third voyage, the
most remarkable China-to-New York run of the entire clipper-ship era.
To reach China on this trip, Waterman did not follow the usual route
east around Africa's Cape of Good Hope and across the Indian Ocean.
Instead, after raising anchor in New York Harbor on April 27, 1848, he
took the Sea Witch west around Cape Horn at the foot of South America
to deliver a cargo to Valparaiso, Chile, before crossing the Pacific for
China. Altogether, the passage took 121 sailing days. theSea Witch
Still,

was anchored in the harbor at Hong Kong that December, with several
weeks to spare before the year's new tea pickings would be ready for
shipment. In the first days of the new year, the clipper began to take on
her cargo. At noon on January 9, 1849, the Sea Witch's hatches were
sealed for the voyage, and Waterman bade Hong Kong good-by. At 7:30
blowing out of the northeast. Captain
that evening, with a fine breeze
Bob discharged the Chinese harbor pilot, and the Sea Witch set sail on a
passage that would make history.
On this homeward trip Waterman would take the usual westerly
course around Africa. Her sails straining above her long hull, her rigging
thrumming and her masts groaning, the Sea Witch streaked across the
 35

The house flags of shipping firms in

New York— home port for most American
dippers— are identified on this 19th
Century broadside. The pennants of some
firms— especially A. A. Low Er Bro.
(fourth row, fifth from left) and HoivJand
&-AspinwaIJ, whose name is spelled
incorrectly here {fifth row, third from
left)— were almost as well known in

Hong Kong as they were in Brooklyn.

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36 The zenith of the age of sail

China Sea. The very first day she made 202 miles, traveling at a rate most
sailing vessels could never hope to achieve. With Faustian confidence,
Waterman ordered up the royals and studding sails. And, as if by agree-
ment with the gods of the oceans, the Sea Witch began to race like a
demon. Under a cloud of kites she logged 272 miles the second day, and
on the third day she ran 262 miles.
This was Waterman at his best, keeping every shred of canvas on the
Sea Witch, using the least slant of breeze and drift of current, clawing
upwind through each gust. He had an intuitive feel for a ship under way,
sensing when she was in perfect equilibrium with the wind and sea. He
also had an almost eerie knack of guessing where the winds might be.
and using them. For her part, the Sea Witch proved she could maintain
her steady ocean-eating pace in almost any weather. On January 16,
eight days out, First Mate George Fraser, who kept the Sea Witch's log,
observed, "Light baffling airs through the day." Still, Fraser reported,
the clipper eked out 65 miles.
Delicately picking his way through the myriad uncharted reefs of the
China Sea, constantly on the lookout for Chinese and Malay pirates.
Waterman made it to the Sunda Strait — the passage between the islands
of Sumatra and Java — in only nine days. On January 17. as the Sea Witch
slipped into the narrow strait, Malayan sampans shot out from the shore.
Approaching the American ship, pidgin-speaking Malays offered coco-
nuts and yams, ducks and chickens, mats and shells, monkeys and caged
sparrows to the clipper men. As a precaution, Waterman armed himself
and his officers, and ordered a close watch on the visitors. The Sunda
Strait was notorious for foul play.
The Sea Witch was in luck — no pirates. She worked her way carefully
through the reef-strewn waters, coming so close to the shore at times that
the men could hear the parrots squawking in the jungle. On the night of
January 17, a series of gusty squalls swept through the passage. Water-
man anchored in the lee of an island. By dawn, Fraser noted, "the weath-
er looking better," the anchor came up again. The Sea Witch skirted a
rocky outcropping at the end of the strait, known to sailors as "Thwart-
the-Way Island," and emerged into the dark-blue waters of the Indian
Ocean. The looming heights of Java Head, redolent of sandalwood, re-
ceded astern. A fresh breeze sprang up, and Waterman set all sail.
The Sea Witch was scarcely out on the Indian Ocean when the wind
died again. Still Waterman kept her moving through calms and light airs
for a fitful week. Finally, on January 25, a succession of sharp rain
squalls promised better weather, and the next day Fraser could record
"strong breezes." The Sea Witch put her shoulder down and surged
ahead. Now she began to fly. That day she ran 276 miles. On January 27
she made 292 miles, the next day 281 miles and the next. 282 miles. In
his entry for February 1, Fraser wrote "strong trades" with a bold flour-
ish of his pen, before recording a day's passage of 300 miles.
Within a fortnight the appearance of albatrosses and Cape pigeons
announced the foot of the African continent. And at 3 a.m. on February
16, Fraser noted, "Cape Good Hope bore north true," as Waterman cut
the corner. With the west coast of Africa just over the horizon, the Sea
Witch picked up the southeast trades and went rushing northward. That
 37

An exotic trade's exquisite prizes

When America's venturesome clipper captains returned 1844. "Many imagine the carvers have some method of soft-
from a voyage to China, tea drinkers across the country ening the ivory, but do not believe that. The art handed
1

rushed to pay top prices for the delicately flavored new down from father to son has become The Chinese
pickings. But the clippers also brought a trove of less silversmith's workmanship was equally renowned "He
ephemeral temptations: Tucked among the tea chests were can manufacture any article in the most elegant manner or
handcrafted Oriental wares coveted by almost every house- produce a pattern of forks at very short notice." observed
holder of the day. one American. The silver
' is remarkably fine and the cost of
The ravenous hunger for chinoiserie could be traced to working it a mere song."
the year 1785, when a pioneer of America's commerce with So brisk was the trade that by 1850. in Sail ia< hu-
China, the Empress of China, arrived in New York with setts, as much as one fifth of even household s goods
her hold weighted with porcelain as ballast. That casual imported from China. Ladies' fans, a significant item in the
cargo was immediately snapped up by the American pub- trade, were brought by the tens of thousands.
in
lic, and by the mid-1 9th Century Chinese artisans were sup- During the 1860s. as European fai tones began manu-
plying the United States market with a veritable cornucopia facturing inexpensive porcelains and Chine neil

of merchandise— silks, porcelains, paintings, fans, silver started producing cheap, gaudy items under the ;

dishes, ornate ivory objets d'art, and furnishings of pol- of Western market demand, the trattic in finer -
ished wood and lacquer ware. pered off. But by that time. China's largely anonymous

Westerners were particularly intrigued by the ivory carv- tisans, with their command of vibrant color and intrii

ers' skill. "Their mode of working is as much a secret as it patterning, had left an enduring impression on a culture

was five centuries ago," reported an American merchant in they would never see.

A paper fan opens to rev cola watert olorvlsta o) the Whampoa Reai h am horagi when Am
38

Three elaborately decorated containers

bespeak the mastery of China's
silversmiths. Westerners were astonished
by the low prices as iveJJ as the
beauty of these objects. "It is much
cheaper." said an American merchant, "to
have a splendid service of plate
in China than in any other country."

SOUP TUREEN
 39

Ivory objects such as these, carved

from elephant tusks that were imported to
China from southern Africa. Siam and
Burma, were among the most highly prized
items of the China trade. Often set in
finely worked wooden bases, these feats of
craftsmanship inspired one American
merchant to assert that "there are no such
carvers in the world as the Chinese."

VASE DK.OK.V
40

Gleaming with a gilded view of the

harbor at Macao, this handsome worktable
with ivory fittings is one of thousands
of lacquered furnishings exported to the
United States during the 19th Century.
The gilding was brushed on to a surface
etched beforehand with a steel point.
 41

day she made the best run of her entire voyage, an amazing 308 m
But in less than 48 hours the winds softened again. Waterman pushed
on: 73 miles through light airs and overcast skies on February 19. then
158, then 128. 174, 198 and 183. Steadily theSea Witch ran up the South
Atlantic, moving surely but all too slowly tor Waterman, who realized by
thistime that he stood a good chance of breaking his own record for the
passage from China.
On March 5, Fraser wrote, "Rather more wind today.*' as theSea \\'it( h
covered 220 miles. Then the wind fell off again, but Waterman still
scratched out another 183 miles. On March 7 the Sen Witch crossed the
Equator. A squally night on March 9 brought her into the latitude of the
northeast trades. And
the next day the clipper was roaring along. e\
thing flying and bound for home.
By March 12 the whole crew talked about New York while they paint-
ed the ship so she would make a proper entrance into the harbor. Then,
on March 20. a fierce squall struck out of the north-northwest, heeling
the Sea Witch over hard and. wrote Fraser. "plunging bowsprit under."
But the same sharp shape that made the clipper's bow likely to dip
beneath the waves in these conditions also gave theSea Witt h "weather-
liness," an ability to sail closer to the wind than her bluff-bowed prede-
cessors. Waterman kept under double-reefed sails. The next
his course
day. near Bermuda. theSea Witch was lashed by another storm, this time
a northeaster, and Waterman reluctantly ordered triple reefs— and or-
dered them shaken out the minute the storm had swept past. Plunging
through a "horrid head sea" in the wake of the storm, the Sea Witch
entered the Gulf Stream. Penally the winds moderated; Waterman "set
all stun-sails." And on March 25 he brought the Sea Witch up to her

landfall under the gaze of the lookout at the Sandy Hook semaphore
tower, completing the passage from Hong Kong in 74 days 14 hours
actual sailing time —a record that was never broken.

The combination of John Griffithsand Robert Waterman was a natural

alliance of designer and skipper, remarkable less in the fact of partner-
ship than in the gifts of the partners. A third contribution to the success
of the clipper ship was positively providential. While Griffiths and Wa-
terman were launching the clipper era — with an assist from Nat Palmer
— the man who set its course was at work in a stuffy office in Wash-
ington, D.C. Matthew Fontaine Maury had come to the aid of the Up- I

per by a most unlikely circumstance. A farm boy from Tennessee who

had left home to join the United States Navy, he had sailed around the
world as a midshipman and risen to the rank of lieutenant when, af-
ter a visit home, he had been thrown from the top of a stagecoach.
His broken leg had never properly healed, and for the rest ot his life he
walked with a limp.
The Navy, considering Maury unfit for further sea dut\ assigned him .

in 1842 to its Depot of Charts and Instruments in Washington In the

depot's vault. Lieutenant Maur\ discovered a collet turn of thousands ot
ships' logs, including nearly every one that had been kept sine e the birth
of the United States Navy. The logs had been relegated to the Depot ot
Charts and Instruments for want ot a better pla< 8 to put them. Dead
42 The zenith of the age of sail

storage to the Navy, they represented a treasury of information to Maury,

for they held records of weather and sea conditions for every month of
the year in all parts of the world. Once refined, this knowledge would
constitute an aid to navigation as valuable as any instrument on the chart
table or any volume in the bookshelf of a captain's cabin.
The lieutenant and his small staff immediately began organizing and
compiling the hundreds of thousands of observations recorded in the
logs. Maury also persuaded the Navy to enhance the collection by issu-
ing to all its ships a standardized form requesting specific observations
of weather, winds, currents and other hydrological and meteorological
information. From the combined observations of the old logs and the
new forms, he set about compiling a set of navigational charts to map the
highways of the sea as they had never been mapped before.
His first area of concentration was the much-traveled passage from
northeast America down the Atlantic to Rio de Janeiro. Here Maury
made the first of many discoveries that would alter the traditional pat-
terns of navigation and vastly reduce the time it took for a sailing ship to
go from one port to another.
To most mariners in the 1840s, the chief obstacle in the run down to
Rio was the great bulge of the South American continent at Cape Sao
Roque, reaching out into the Atlantic nearly to the longitude of the
British Isles. A skipper normally set a course out across the Atlantic,
"running down his easting," as he called it. so as to weather Cape Sao
Roque before turning south for Rio. But Maury, studying the countless
observations in the Navy's logs, found that this was the wrong way to
Rio. for two important reasons.
One reason was already known by most skippers, but they were unable
to figure out what to do about it. The northeasterly trade winds of the
North Atlantic and the southeasterly trades below the Equator were
separated by bands of calm weather — the so-called doldrums. Most
navigators resigned themselves to drifting through the doldrums, mov-
ing at a snail's pace for days and sometimes for weeks, until they had
gone far enough south to pick up the South Atlantic trade winds. What
Maury discovered from his study of the logs was that these bands of calm
varied greatly in width: They were much narrower in some parts of the
Atlantic than in others. Moreover, the width of the bands could also
change according to the season of the year. "The calm belts of the sea,"
he wrote, "like mountains on the land, stand mightily in the way of the
voyager, but, like the mountains on the land, they have their passes and
their gaps." Maury thereupon charted the shortest passes through the
equatorial doldrums of the Atlantic.
This contribution to navigation was doubly important because of yet
—
another of Maury's discoveries. Mariners' tradition and some guides
to navigation —
had it that, because of the prevailing winds off Cape Sao
Roque, a strong current set in toward the land. Once a ship was trapped
inside this current, warned the guides, it could lose days before it was
able to work its way out.
The case was quite the contrary, as Maury discovered in the logs of the
few skippers who had gone in close to Cape Sao Roque: Most had found
no adverse current at all. Indeed, he wrote, "a few of them report the
 43

current in their favor." Maury also discovered that there was a narr m
band winds near the coast. The favorable current and winds
of westerly
could actually help the captain make better time, so long as he held his
ship close to the hitherto dreaded cape. This. Maury declared, was the
"fair way to Rio.
In 1847 Maury published his discoveries in a volume titled Wind
and Current Charts. On printed charts of the Atlantic. Maury superim-
posed a sprinkling of symbols that indicated the probable winds that
a ship was likely to encounter. Accompanying this graphic correlation
of his observations were recommendations on how to use those winds
to the best advantage.
Veteran merchant skippers did not at first take kindly to such brash
advice from a landbound naval officer who had seen less than a decade
of sea duty. Then, in 1848. a merchant captain by the name of Jackson put
Maury's charts to the test. Sailing out of Baltimore in the bark W.H.RC.
Wright. Captain Jackson ran from the Virginia capes to Rio in 38 days: the
normal time was 55 days. Following the same charts. Jackson came
home in 37 days. He had made the round trip in 35 fewer days than he
usually required. The news took even less time to spread through the
counting rooms of Baltimore. New York and Boston, aided by an editori-
al in the Baltimore American. Overnight, every shipowner and skipper

wanted to get his hands on those newfangled charts.

Maury was ready for them with an offer that was so attractive they
For the decades he spent mapping could hardly refuse it. He had prepared a 10-page Abstract Log for the
global winds and currents on the basis of Use of American Navigators; it distilled the information of his Wind and
thousands of ships' Jogs. Matthew
Current Charts, and accompanying it were 12 blank pages for the naviga-
Fontaine Maury received honors from
almost 50 learned societies, medals tor to fill in during his next voyage. On receipt of this information.
from European royalty, and the gratitude Maury would forward to the captain the latest, updated Wind and Cur-
of clipper captains. But despite all his
rent Charts free of charge.
labors, Maury never rose above the rank of
lieutenant in the United States Navy.
By July 1848, only four months after Captain Jackson's voyage to
Rio. Maury had received the abstract logs of four more ships on that run;
they had saved an average of 10 days. By the end of the summer the
reports were flowing in. and Maury and his assistants were busy trying
to keep up with them.
Eventually Maury issued charts for all the world's oceans. These were
supplemented by general sailing directions for the major trade routes.
Later series offered more specialized information on the trade winds.
monsoons, water-surface temperatures, storms, currents and even the
distribution of whales.
The charts were steadily revised and improved as nrw reports poured
in.By the end of 1851. Maury had heard from more than .(>()(> aptains. 1 I

By 1854 he had about one million observations on the prevailing dim -

tionsand velocities of the oceans' winds. He bad ret aived 380,284 obser-
vations on the Atlantic Gulf Stream alone. Alter ollating all this new
c

material. Maury expanded his charts \,\ publishing wh.it be .tiled Ex- I

planations and Sailing Directions, which highlighted his discoveries

and offered more general advice tor long oc ean passages
By 1854 Maury had completed a definitive work thai be titled The
Physical Geography oj the Sm. Combined with his earlier Wind unci
Current Charts and his Sailing Dim lions, \laur\'s Geograph) became
44 The zenith of the age of sail

This chart by Matthew Fontaine Maury

indicates the directions of prevailing
ivinds throughout the world. Long-
distance routes that would best exploit the
weather patterns are traced on the
chart by series o/ schematic ships— the
last one on each passage bearing a
notation of the average time of the voyage.
 45

the essential guidebook for the mid-19th Century navigator. Besides

guiding his "noble-hearted mariners.'' as he called his correspondents,
on the fair way to various ports. Maury offered such intriguing and
useful general information as:
The Mozambique Current, flowing southeastward in the South Pacif-
ic and Indian Oceans, is 1.600 miles wide, nearly as broad as the entire
length of the Atlantic Gulf Stream.
The tides in the Atlantic are higher than those in the Pacific, with
consequent differences in tidal-current velocity in some regions.
The Atlantic is the stormiest sea in the world; the Pacific— true to its

name — the most tranquil.

Winds have little influence upon the major currents of the sea. The
Gulf Stream, for example, runs much of its course right in the "wind's
eye." So does the Japan Current in the Pacific.
The Gulf Stream is "roof-shaped." i.e.. slightly higher in the middle.
with its surface waters flowing off to either side. The "runoff." as Maury
called the flow, is too shallow to affect the deep hull of a ship. But the
navigator is able to determine whether he south or north of the
is

stream's center by lowering a boat on a line: it will drift off to one side or
the other with the flow.
The southeast trade winds are stronger than the northeast trades be-
cause they predominate in the Southern Hemisphere, which is cooler
than the Northern Hemisphere. Similarly, all trade winds are stronger
during their hemispheric winter than in summer.
Maury's charts and Sailing Directions cut days and weeks off a vessel's
passage. American ships, with their navigators using Maury's charts,
began to circle the globe in a third less time than before. By 1851 the
average merchant ship's time around the Horn to California was pared
by more than 40 days, and clipper captains did even better. Some cap-
tains wrote Maury by avoiding the storm areas indicated on his
that,
charts, they had completed their voyages without reefing topsails more
than once or twice.
Already many navigators were referring to Maury as the "Pathfinder
of the Seas." Captain Phinney of the clipper Gertrude, sending in his
contribution to what he called Maury's "great and glorious task." ac-
knowledged that "until I took up your work I had been traversing the
ocean blindfolded."
So. in a sense, the American clipper-ship era was designed by men like
John Griffiths and Nat Palmer, ushered on stage by captains like Robert
Waterman, and guided to greatness by Matthew Fontaine Maury But it

receivedits most powerful impetus from a man who had new

clipper. In January 1848 a carpenter named James Marshall, cleaning out

a sluice at Sutter's Mill in California, noticed some nuggets glittering in
the sand. He picked them up to examine them, and then beat one of them
between two stones. The nugget did not shatter, as iron pyrites f<

gold— would have, but obligingly changed shape when pounded Mai
shad's pulse quickened, and so did that of the whole nation when i

of his discovery got out. In California, a remote territory that rould be

reached from the populous Eastern I fnited States only by a long trek ora
longer voyage, fames Marshall had found gold
Chapter 2

A golden lure for clipper builders

 47

The ribs of a new ship rise above a jumble of Umber at Donald McKay's East Boston shipyard, where 32 clippers were built between 1850 and 1869.
48 A golden lure for clipper builders

uring the spring of 1849, one of the strangest mooring pro-

E cedures in the history of seafaring became a customary oc-

currence in the inner harbor of San Francisco Bay. It was a
would have astounded even the saltiest dock
sight that
hand in any saner port. First, a ship would appear at the
Golden Gate, the narrow entrance to the bay; usually it would be a bark or
packet from New York or Boston, weatherworn and bedraggled from her
arduous journey around Cape Horn, but normal enough in her actions as
she approached. Gliding past the little island of Alcatraz and hooking
around to the west, the vessel would steer directly for the crowded
anchorage North Beach at the foot of Telegraph Hill.
off
At this point the ship's behavior became decidedly bizarre. Ordinarily
a captain would bring his ship into an anchorage under reduced sail, let
go anchor and send the crew aloft to furl the sails neatly on their yards
before the passengers, if any, were rowed ashore. But, as likely as not, a
ship fetching up in San Francisco in 1849 would bear down on the
harbor under full sail, drop anchor, let go her braces and sheets, and
immediately begin debouching passengers over her gunwales as if she
were expected to explode at any moment.
And an odd lot of passengers they were. Some carried paper parasols
as if they were going to the Sudan, while others were bundled in furs and
arctic gear. Many struggled to off-load a variety of exotic equipment,
ranging from oddly shaped picks and shovels to cumbersome machines
that might have been lifted from a patent officer's nightmare. Still others,

unable to find a boat, dived into the bay to swim ashore. Frequently the
ship's crew joined in the stampede, and in the space of a few minutes the
captain was standing on the quarter-deck of an otherwise abandoned
ship, her sails fluttering loosely in the breeze and only the harbor pilot
left aboard to console him.
For all their comic-opera quality, such scenes were entirely natural at

that time and in that place. This was gold-rush San Francisco, the sea-
side recipient of a motley army of fortune seekers who knew almost
nothing of the California wilderness and still less of the techniques of
extracting gold from the earth, but who were propelled by one thrilling
conviction —
that they were going to get very, very rich.
Although the first reports of a gold strike in the foothills of the Sierra
Nevada had been greeted with healthy skepticism in the East, the evi-
dence soon became undeniable. In December 1848 President James Polk
had officially recognized the magnitude of the discovery by announcing
that "the accounts of the abundance of gold in that territory are of such
an extraordinary character as would scarcely command belief were
they not corroborated by authentic reports." At about that same time,
a small chest containing some $3,000 worth of nuggets and flakes
from the California gold fields was put on view at the War Office in
Washington. Each day a crowd gathered before the display, mesmerized
by its promise of easy wealth. Meanwhile, an excitement verging
on delirium spread throughout the country. From the hardscrabble
farms of New England to the coal mines of Pennsylvania, a vast legion
of men resolved to head at once for the far side of the continent to share in
the harvest of riches.
 49

i*j .»»**.. tt <*• mWwm

THE WAY THEY CO TO CALIFORNIA.

Forty-niners use every conveyance Virtually every vessel on the East Coast that showed the slightest sea-
possible — and some that are not — as going capability was pressed into service to tote the adventurers. In the
they set out for California in this
period from April 1847 to April 1848. a total of only 13 vessels from
contemporary cartoon of the gold rush.
Clipper ships, although they gave Atlantic ports had called at San Francisco— then a slumbrous town with
passage to many would-be prospectors. barely a thousand inhabitants; in 1849 no fewer than 775 vessels from
actually did a greater business in
the East Coast reached the new Golconda. Only a dozen or so clippers
freight, hauling eagerly awaited supplies
to the West Coast at a time when no were then in existence, and most of these were busy running between
large-scale overland transport existed. China and New York. The sole clipper to join the 1849 rush was the
Memnon, which easily set the record for the passage from New York,
arriving in San Francisco on August 28. L 849, after 122 days at sea. Prior
to this sprint. 200 days was considered a respectable time for the 15.000-
mile voyage around Cape Horn.
Merchants back East quickly realized that there was a great deal of
money to be made by shipping freight as well as people to California
The population of San Francisco was growing at a phenomenal rate— it
would pass the 20.000 mark by the end of the year— and prices were out
of control. A five-dollar barrel of flour sold t \ tour-nionth-old
penny newspaper from back Fast sold for one dollar; so did one egg. A
pack of cards cost five dollars. Clearly, a ship that could make three
voyages while the competition made two would be a money spinner
50 A golden lure for clipper builders
 51

Combining a dreamer's vision with As soon as they could manage it, other clipper owners diverted their
an engineer's practicality, Donald McKay vessels from the China trade and sent them racing around the Horn. All
designed 12 of the 13 clippers that
achieved runs of 400 miles or more in one
of them were out to better the Memnon's time. On May 6, 1850, the A. A.
day. Yet he was never complacent: Low & Bro. clipper ship Samuel Russell arrived in San Francisco 109
"I saw something in each ship which I days after leaving New York. She was loaded to her scuppers with 1 .200
desired to improve upon," he said.
tons of merchandise and flour that earned a stupendous profit Two and
a half months later, the Sea Witch, now skippered by Captain Robert
Waterman's former first mate. George Fraser, came surging up to the
Golden Gate in the amazing time of 97 days from New York, despite
having encountered violent storms off Cape Horn. Her cargo, which cost
$84,626 in New York, was worth $275,000 in San Francisco, nearly four
times the clipper's construction cost.
News of these passages had a predictable effect. In the autumn of 1850
the shipyards of New York and New England, already busy building
clippers for the China trade, fairly exploded with this new impetus. A
long row of clipper-ship skeletons rose on the shores of New York's East
River, where as many as 10,000 men worked in the yards from dawn to
dusk. The sounds of sawing and hammering echoed across the river, and
the air for blocks around was filled with the smells of wood shavings and
pitch. The clipper-ship era was under way in earnest.
During the next 10 years, hundreds of clippers— most of them follow-
ing Matthew Fontaine Maury's recommended route— would run their
easting down to Cape Sao Roque. turn southwestward and thrash
through the Cape Horn gales in sail-thundering voyages such as had
never been imagined before. This passage called for a new type of clip-
per ship, larger than the China clippers so that they could carry more
merchandise, and stouter so that they could withstand the violent
weather off Cape Horn.
To the public at large, the clippers built for the California run were the
stuff of legend— partly because they accepted the worst punishment
nature could throw at them and almost insolently turned it into speed;
partly because they were associated with the greatest adventure the new
nation had ever known; and also, more fundamentally, because they
represented an astonishing achievement of the shipbuilder's art. The
demands of their design were such that the men who constructed these
vessels won the status of popular heroes. And one member of their
ranks — Donald McKay— was held in awe even by the shipbuilders
themselves. More than any other builder. McKay brought the sharp-
bowed, tall-masted sailing ship to perfection.
Like the Tennessean Matthew Fontaine Maury. Ml Kaj was farm-bred;
in his case, however, the sea had always been a familiar presence. Grow-
ing up with 15 brothers and sisters on a marshland farm in Shelburne.
Nova Scotia, he breathed salt air and woke to the r\ of gulls. With the
(

aid of his younger brother Lauchlan. he built a sailing dinghy and used it
for boyhood explorations of Shelburne's bays and the nearby Jordan
River. Then, in 1826. 16-year-old Donald rode a coastal schooner from
H.ilifax to New York and got a job as a laborer in an East River ship-
yard run by Isaac Webb.
Webb has been called the "Father of Shipbuilders because so main
leaders of the industry learned their trade under his tutelage He \\,is
52 A golden lure for clipper builders

from Nova Scotia: Right off,

quick to take notice of the young immigrant
to work from
McKay showed ability with his tools and a willingness
a few months
dawn to dusk to learn the shipbuilder's craft. Within
indenture, apprenticing Donald to
McKay and Isaac Webb signed an
of a ship-carpenter." In return
Webb "to learn the art, trade and mystery
Donald promised his master that he would faithfully
for his lessons,
serve him, "his secrets keep, his lawful
commands everywhere readily

The agreement covered virtually all of the young

apprentice's
obey."
not absent himself
waking hours-in fact, it stipulated that "he shall
from his master's service without his leave." Nor would he
day nor night
playhouses." Besides his
"haunt ale-houses, taverns, dance-houses or
year "in
tutelage,young McKay would receive $2.50 a week, plus $40 a
lieu of meat, drink, washing, lodging, clothing, and other necessaries."
The apprenticeship was to last four and a half years.

In fact, it lasted a bit less. After four

years of honoring his contract to
timbers and straining in the
the letter— by day hefting massive live-oak
night sticking close
saw pit at one end of a two-handled crosscut saw, by
bachelor boardinghouse aptly nicknamed the
"Weary Wanderers'
to a
Hotel"— Donald McKay was ready for something new. He had mastered
Bell, offered him a job as a
his trade so well that a rival shipbuilder, Jacob
master, and Isaac Webb gen-
full-fledged shipwright. He petitioned his
erously released him from his nearly completed apprenticeship.
 53

The very next year good fortune favored McKay again: He fell in love
with a young lady named Albenia Boole. She was the eldest daughter of
John Boole, a successful New York shipbuilder; two of her brothers were
shipbuilders as well. Brought up in such a family. Albenia learned to
draft and lay off plans as expertly as her brothers. She also had an excel-
lent education, something that Donald had never received.
They were married in 1833. Albenia brought a comfortable dowry to
the marriage, and the newlyweds purchased a small house in Manhat-
tan's choice residential area of East Broadway McKay continued to work
for Jacob Bell at the shipyard of Brown & Bell. On Sundays, his one da)
off, and far into the night on weekdays, he and Albenia sat together in

their small parlor while she taught him algebra and trigonometry and
filled the many other gaps in his knowledge.

Sketched in his own hand, Donald

Nearly as important as his marriage was the friendship McKay struck
McKay's plans for the twin ships Star up in the 1830s with John Griffiths, then a draftsman at the nearby Smith
of Empire and Chariot of Fame & Dimon yard. Long before Griffiths started the shipbuilding revolution
demonstrate his skill in designing for large
with hisRainbovv and Sea Witch, he and McKay had often sat for hours at
storage capacity as well as for speed.
Although they retained the sleek lines of a drafting board, discussing modifications that might boost the speed
McKay's more extreme clippers, these of a ship under sail.
three-decked vessels, which were launched
McKay's reputation as a shipwright was growing, and in
All the while.
in 1853, could carry more cargo in
proportion to their registered tonnage
1839 he was chosen from a field of nearly a thousand men to become a
than the fullest earlier designs. foreman at the Brooklyn Navy Yard. This triumph, however, soon turned

H A * / O T

rri i ririr r f;

k .> :

LJ
HHH^m H '.
i

3B1 A.
T V M '.D V
54 A golden lure for clipper builders

sour. The coincidence of a financial depression and a large influx of

immigrants from Europe stirred a ground swell of prejudice in New York
against those who were not native-born Americans. The yard hands at
the Navy yard refused to work for an immigrant from Nova Scotia.
McKay gave up the job and moved to New England, finding employment
inNewburyport, Massachusetts, as foreman of a modest-sized shipyard.
Once more his gifts were quickly recognized: In 1841 he was offered a
partnership by a local shipbuilder named William Currier.
Three years later, after McKay
building a series of fine packet ships,
was approached by a wealthy Boston merchant named Enoch Train, who
offered to set him up with a yard of his own if he would move to Boston.
Thus, at the age of 34, Donald McKay was able to test the ideas he and
Griffiths had discussed and shaped a decade earlier in New York City.
The clipper he built in his new shipyard at the foot of Border
first

Street in East Boston was the Stag Hound, an extremely narrow vessel
that, at the time of her launch in 1850, was the largest merchant ship on

the seas. Commissioned by two Boston merchants, she paid for her con-
struction cost in one voyage to California and the Orient, and immediate-
ly put McKay in the forefront of clipper builders.
At the first McKay had sent for his wife and
intimations of success,
children, who had remained behind in Newburyport when he took this
new job; he also summoned five of his brothers to come down from Nova
Scotia and help him design and build ships. The yard soon seethed with
activity. Sawdust, carried by gusts off the harbor, swept across the
grounds in clouds. Planking creaked as it was made fast to a vessel's ribs;
lumber clattered on the decks; and a steam-powered derrick clanked and
hissed as it lifted the heaviest timbers and masts. In other New England
yards, timbers were moved about by hand, and all workers left whatever
they were doing to help heft a big log into place. McKay's use of a steam
hoist, an idea he had brought with him from New York, made this inter-
ruption unneccessary, dramatically boosting the shipyard's efficiency.
Another McKay innovation was a steam saw that replaced the two-man
pit saw. The steam saw saved hours on each job, spared men for other
tasks and was more versatile than its man-powered predecessor.
McKay, a curly-haired, brawny man with the brow of a poet and the
domineering eye of a bantam rooster, seemed to be everywhere at
once— making sure the live oak for a ship's beams had been mature
when cut, and had little sap left in it; measuring the impregnation of
metallic salts in which the wood had been soaked to guard against dry
rot; checking to be sure that the wood had been properly seasoned by

drying in the sun; marking a frame with chalk for a sharper curve or a
tighter fit; gauging the camber of a newly laid deck to see that it would
drain but not be dangerously steep when wet; and supervising the work
in hundreds of other ways. The ultimate perfectionist, McKay pro-
claimed "Excelsior" as the motto for everyone in his yard. "I never yet
built a vessel," he claimed, "that came up to my own ideal."
McKay often referred to himself as merely "a mechanic," but he was a
great deal more than that: He was, in fact, a brilliant synthesizer. Not an
innovative designer himself, he willingly gave credit to men such as
John Griffiths for the sharp bow, narrower midships and full stern, and
 —

55

Nat Palmer for the flatter hull. What McKay did was to take all these
improvements in ship design and use them as no one else had.
It was typical of him that, while he was the first shipbuilder in New

England to use the newfangled steam hoisting engine and the steam
he also employed such venerable tricks as filling narrow tunnels in the
keelson with salt pickle to preserve the wood, a technique that had been
used in England for years but had rarely been put to work in the United
States. McKay simply adopted the finest designs, the newest equipment,
the tried and true techniques, and combined them to produce the best
clippers ever built.
Early in 1851 before the Stag
, Hound had completed her first voyage.
McKay's second clipper, the Flying CJoud, was already attracting visi-
tors to the yard. Bostonians came down Border Street to watch her take
shape; one onlooker who returned again and again was the poet Uinr\
/\timber dealer's advertisement in a Wadsworth Longfellow, a devoted ship buff. The great ship's propor-
magazine for shipbuilders and shipowners tions were awesome: 1,783 tons, 229 feet in length. 41 feet in width, 21%
reflects the increased standardization
feet in depth. She shouldered aside the Stag Hound as the largest mer-
of parts as clipper production mushroomed
in the mid-1850s. Depending on his chantman yet built, and she was nearly twice the tonnage of the Sea
pocketbook, a builder had a wide choice of Witch, constructed only five years earlier. The Flying Cloud had been
woods—from stout but locally scarce commissioned by Enoch Train's firm, and she was, said George Frani is
oak to the softer hackmatack, or larch, that
Train, cousin and partner of Enoch, a "ship destined to make a new era in
grew bountifully all over New England.
shipbuilding all over the world."
Considering their enthusiasm, the Trains now did a curious thing.
Among the visitors to McKay's yard were some scouts from the New
York shipping firm of Grinnell, Minturn & Co. When they reported on
thishandsome and promising new clipper, Moses Grinnell promptly
offered to buy her. unfinished as she was. And the Trains sold her.
The was that he had responded to
reason, according to George Train,
Grinnell's offer with what he thought was a very high price. $90.000
and Grinnell, to his surprise, answered. "We will take her." A more
likely explanation is that the Train firm found itself short of cash and
decided to sell the clipper before she was completed. Whatever the
explanation. Enoch Train later confessed that there were few things in
his life he regretted more than parting with the Flying Cloud.

On April 15, 1851, the crowds poured off the ferry at East Boston all

morning. Rowboats and sailboats speckled the harbor, and the McKa)
yard, the Chelsea Bridge and even the nearby masts and rooftops
swarmed with people awaiting the launching. When the dogshores
holding her were knocked away from the tallow-greased skids.
in place
Moses Grinnell's new clipper and Donald McKays masterpiece eased
down the ways, picking up speed and making a thumping splash as she
backed into the harbor. Her topmasts had not yet been stepped, but flags
flew from the stumps of her lower masts, and long pennants snapped
and popped in the brisk spring breeze. The white-and-gold angel thai
was her figurehead bowed to the onlookers as the big clipper dipped,
rolled, righted and glided from the shore Whistles blew, top h.its waved
and everyone cheered. That faithful follower of the : l\ ing Cloud's on-
i (

btrknuuck, 911 to 912. ivmum t«QUMad In Novcmbarlw.

struction, Henry Wadsworth Longfellow. des< ribed BU4 h an event in one
Yollow mrul. tl e«nl«,
I.o-u»t
u » moMlu . coffr abnt, »| omla, 4iue i •»»»« »••<». •> "•'•• ""• •
~"^
•illoi najlt. 19 c*nt«, ditto.
of his poems: "She starts,— she moves.— she seems to feel The thrill ot
56 A golden lure for clipper builders

life along her keel,/ And, spurning with her foot the ground,/ With one
exulting, joyous bound, /She leaps into the ocean's arms!"
Several days later, with the truck on her mainmast poking 200 feet into
the sky — as high as a 20-story building — and riggers fine-tuning her
miles of rigging and shrouds, she set out under tow for New York with
her newly appointed commander, Josiah Perkins Creesy, aboard. Creesy
had grown up in Marblehead, gone to sea in his teens and become a
ship's master at 23. Now 37 and a grizzled veteran of the China trade, he
was known as "Perk" to his friends — though never to his crew.
For about a month the Flying Cloud lay alongside Pier 20 in the East
River while her narrow hull was crammed with merchandise for Califor-
nia and while Eleanor Creesy, who always served as her husband's navi-
gator, collected a set of Matthew Maury's Wind and Current Charts and
Sailing Directions. Finally, at 2 p.m. on June 2, 1851, with the white-red-
and-blue swallow-tailed flag of Grinnell, Minturn & Co. flying at the
masthead, the clipper swung into the river from her pier at the foot of
Maiden Lane. She moved slowly through the Narrows, then picked up a
fresh afternoon westerly as she approached Sandy Hook.
With a thundering flurry of canvas, her mainsail was backed for a
moment. The pilot scampered down the rope ladder and jumped across
to the pitching deck of his schooner. The great hull looming above him
moved back on course. Her skysails, royals, topgallants, topsails and

The half-hull model: a designer's three-dimensional sketch pad

The half-hull model for the clipper

Aspasia (above] has alternating layers, or
lifts, of pine and mahogany The lifts
.

could be separated as in the drawing at

right — to calculate the hull's full
dimensions. The model is 6OV2 inches long,
with a half-beam of 5 3A inches. The ship,
launched in Mystic, Connecticut, in 1856,
was 145 feet long, with a 31-/oot beam.
 57

studding sails boomed, and her masts creaked as she took the wind on
her quarter and picked up speed. Twin white waves curled away from
her sharp bow, and her rounded stern lifted to the following sea as she
went boiling off into the open Atlantic, bound down around Cape Horn
to the Golden Gate on a voyage that would never be forgotten.
When the Flying CJoud put to sea, the record for the California pas-
sage was held by the Surprise, an A. A. Low & Bro. clipper that had
made the run in 96 days, one day faster than the Sea Witch's time
over the course. But even on a clipper, the length of the voyage made it.
in the words of Matthew Fontaine Maury, "the most tedious within the
domains of commerce." Moreover, declared Maury in his elegant style,
"many are the vicissitudes which attend it." In particular. Maury
observed that the storms along the Gulf Stream are more to be dreaded
than those encountered anywhere else in the world. Captain Creesy soon
had cause to know why.
June 5, as he laconically recorded in the Flying Cloud's log. was a day
of "Good breezes, fine weather." But the breezes were out of the north-
west and, as breezes out of the northwest frequently do on the Atlanti< .

they increased to strong winds and finally to a gale. The Flying Cloud's
towering rigging, as tightly tuned as a giant violin, thrummed and
keened as the wind picked up speed. The seas built up into ever-larger
hills that marched down on the clipper, lifted her stern and rolled along-

No less eminent a marine architect The models functioned somewhat to full size for use in the shipyard
than John Willis Griffiths called it "a like a three-dimensional sketch pad. By the 1870s. shipbuilders found
proud emblem of American genius." allowing a designer to work out the that a hand-carved expression of per-
Donald McKay received praise from lineaments of his creation in minia- sonal experience and esthetics was an
a shipwright's publication for being ture. The scale of the models varied, insufficient guide for construe ting the
among the first shipbuilders to use it. but the half hull for a clipper 200 feet new and more complex iron steam-
For all its importance, the object in long was usually about six feet long. ships, and precise architectural drafts

question — a designer's half-hull mod- The designer began by stacking to- based on mathematical formulas even-
el (left) — was a simple contrivance gether slabs of wood of roughly the tually replaced the designer's model.

that looked like an oversized pull- right size, securing them with dowels Oblivion soon claimed the out-ot-
apart toy. Yet in the hands of men like or long triangular wedges. Frequently date half hulls— in part because de-
McKay and Griffiths, it literally gave the wood was pine, or pieces of pine signers had been secretive about them.
shape to the clipper-ship era. alternating with a darker timber to Donald Mi Kaj s son noted in a letter

The half hull— also referred to as a highlight the lines of the hull. that, "owing builden Dei
to jealousy, -

lift model because its sections could be Using gouges, planes and chisels, er gave a correct model awa\ After

lifted to separate them— was invented the designer sculpted one side of the McKay'fl death, main ol his models
in the 18thCentury, but came into composite block "to suit his fancy," as were discovered in pirn 68, hopped (

widespread use in the 1840s and the a shipwright's manual expressed it. up for firewood. Onl\ three escaped
1850s. Before then, the shape of a new The other side needed no shaping, destruction, along with i leu models

vessel's hull was worked out either on since it was assumed to be a mirror im- by other designers Apart from a hand-
paper or in a shipbuilder's head, and age of the sculpted half. The complet- hil of original plans, thej .ire almost .ill

translated into wooden reality on the ed model was taken apart, and the di- th.it remains to record the designs of

ways, according to his eye. mensions of each lift were converted the c Upper-ship era
58 A golden lure for clipper builders

side; their giant combers toppled forward, and the wind batted off their
crests, sweeping the deck with salt spray. Two men fought the huge
spoked helm to keep the massive hull from swinging about in each
surging sea. Suddenly there was a series of explosive snaps as the elastic
hemp supporting the top-hamper stretched and gave way. Within sec-
onds the Flying Cloud's main-topgallant mast, and its appended royal
and skysail masts, canted to one side. Amid a crackling of wood, the
shriek of tearing sails and the clatter of falling blocks, the topgallant
mast crashed to the deck in a tangle of shrouds, severing the rigging of
the upper mizzenmast as it fell. With its support suddenly gone, the
mizzen-topgallant snapped away and fell into the wreckage.
While the mate bellowed orders for all hands to tumble up and take
their places on deck, Creesy ordered the helmsman to spin the heavy
wheel and let the Flying Cloud ease off the wind. Topmen scrambled up
the rigging and out onto the yards, some of them barely escaping a
plunging death as the main-topsail yard, one of the clipper's longest
spars, broke loose and was dragged down by the tangle of the rigging.
Even a partial dismasting of a clipper ship in a gale at sea could make a
veteran's blood run cold. The ship swayed to the cross seas. The wind
whipped the spars back and forth in murderous parabolas. Blocks swung
wildly about like wooden wrecking balls. Gale-driven waves smashed
over the bulwarks and washed the men off their feet, sweeping them the
width or length of the deck. Some of the wreckage from the top-hamper,
still attached to its tangled rigging, had been washed overboard. If these

spars and sections of mast were not cut loose, they could drive against
the ship's sides like battering rams, smashing through her planking and
sinking her. Creesy shouted his orders into the mate's ear; the lines
snaking over the rails to the wreckage in the water were chopped away
and the remaining rigging was secured. The Flying Cloud was eased
back on course. Under her reduced canvas, she moved a bit more stead-
ily. And Creesy noted in the log: "Lost Main & Mizen Topgallant mast &

Main Topsail yard."

TheFlying Cloud swept on through a howling night. By late morning
the gale had abated somewhat, but the clipper had lost much of her
speed. The crew, meanwhile, worked feverishly. With diminishing
winds swinging from the northwest into the west and southwest, the
topgallant masts and their spars were replaced, new rigging was rove,
and lifts were taken aloft as the ship limped on her course southward.
The next day the Cloud's top-hamper was laboriously hauled back into
place. In the space of only 48 hours, the crippled clipper had been
restored to racing trim, and by June 8 she was sliding through the roll-
ing seas before a gentle breeze. Creesy wrote in his log, "Fine weather.
Set all possible sail."
But evidently those three days had been enough to terrify some of the
landlubbers in the crew. Many were not seamen; some
of them, in fact,
had never been to sea before, and most crew had shipped aboard
of the
only to get to the gold fields. For the next four days, while the Flying
Cloud gracefully ran down her easting under gentler breezes, some of
the foremast hands relived their nightmare and grumbled among them-
selves about the greater perils that lay ahead. On June 13 it was discov-
 59

The clipper Flying Cloud takes on ered that the clipper's mainmast was. as Creesy recorded, "badly sprung
cargo in New York shortly before leaving about a foot from the Hound" — that is. twisted and partially fractured at
on her maiden voyage to California in
June 1851. Though built for fast transport
the junction where the topgallant mast had wrenched away from it. And
was not lacking in
of freight, the vessel three days later, when the winds picked up again and blustery squalls
amenities for her few passengers. A New swept down on them, the men eyed the bending, creaking main-topm.ist
York newspaper said it knew of no
with undisguised anxiety. TheF/ying Cloud's top-hamper stood up un-
packet ship or steamer more luxurious.
der the buffeting, but the experience only added to the crew's concern.
By June 19 the Cloud was entering the doldrums, heralded by inter-
mittent squalls and periods when the sea was as smooth as tnillpond, <i

and the ship's progress under sail was frustratingly meager. In the ap- i

tain's cabin. Mrs. Creesy opened Matthew Maury's book on her bail i

table and plotted a course through the region. By [line 2 her husband 1

was showing his first sign of impatient e: His rvptic unemotional ob-
I .

servations in the log gave u,i\ to a ( omplaining "( aim aim aim." But
( (

by the morning of June 23 the log was reporting tresh squalls, and In late
60 A golden lure for clipper builders

afternoon the Cloud was once again experiencing "Gentle breezes" and
"fine weather." With Maury's guidance, Mrs. Creesy had brought the
ship through this navigational slough in only four days.
Shortly before midnight on June 24, the Flying Cloud slipped across
the Equator, only 22 days out of New York, and bent her course south-
ward. By June 26 the clipper had made enough easting to round the
bulge of Cape Sao Roque. And now the mood aboard became more omi-
nous. Instead of heading for Rio de Janeiro and repairs for the injured
mast, Creesy set course for Cape Horn, where rocky islands curled out
eastward from under the continent like a finger beckoning malevolently
to oncoming ships. If had carried away the ship's
a mid-Atlantic gale
top-hamper, might not "Cape was unlovingly called
Stiff," as the Horn
by seamen, with its murderous gales and blasting snowstorms, strip her
as clean as an Indian canoe? So the greener members of the crew must
have reasoned. And even the least imaginative foremast hand, after ex-
periencing the partial dismasting three weeks earlier, could visualize
the disaster that might occur if the entire mainmast went over the side.
But the Cloud had begun to pick up the Southern Hemisphere's south-
east trade winds, and now nothing short of a mutiny could have persuad-
ed Creesy to put into port.
On July 9 the wind increased to a fresh breeze. That morning, before
dawn, a brief thunderstorm flashed across the Atlantic, flattening the
waves with its downpour and leaving sparkling whitecaps in its wake.
These were weather-breeding conditions and, as the inexperienced crew
grew more mistrustful, Creesy braced himself for the storm that finally
struck later that day.
It started with another thunderstorm, this one violent. Because Cressy
had seen it coming, he had time to order skysails, royals and topgallants
furled and the topsails double-reefed, cutting down their exposed sur-
face area by about a third. The storm kept up all that night, and morning
brought even stronger winds. In his log Creesy noted "blowing hard
Gale — No Observations." He ordered the topsails shortened to their last
rows of reef points. All the clipper carried now were close-reefed top-
sails and staysails — fore-and-aft triangles of canvas rigged between the
masts and intended to help steady the ship as she ran before the storm.
But even these were strained mightily by the wind, and suddenly, with a
great ripping sound, two of her staysails split into tatters. Rushing and
sliding about the water-washed decks, the men lowered and gathered in
the remnants and stowed them below. While they were working they
could hear a groaning, cracking noise: The weakened masthead was
threatening to give way.
Creesy looked off to leeward and saw that theCJoud had company. Not
far away a brig was laboring desperately. As he watched, her fore- and
main-topmasts canted over, split away and tumbled into the sea. With
his own mainmast bending and creaking, Creesy was too busy to go to
her aid. He ordered his upper yards lowered in an attempt to ease the
strain on the mast. The clipper was dipping the tips of her yardarms into
the sea as she rolled to leeward. Water rushed over the lee rail and swept

waist-high across the deck, knocking men

and sending
off their feet
them thumping against the deck housing. But one by one the spars were
 —

61

Enchanting relics of a lost nautical art

Although they are remembered chiefly reflected the names of the clippers This binnacle bay— with on injunction'
as a streamlined embodiment of sheer they graced — a simple matter in cases to "mind your helm" inscribed on his
speed, clippers were also the last great like Carrier Pigeon. Game Cock and hat— carried the clipper N. B. Palmer's
compass inside Us brass binnacle. So
seafaring home of a major decorative Stag Hound. But at times a carver was
lifelike was the figure that strunge tales
art: the craftwork of the ship carver. hard-pressed to suitably represent the about its poiver circulated on the Palmer.
Ship carving dates back to the begin- name The Charmer sported
of a ship. Helmsmen insisted that it was haunted
nings of maritime history. Small carv- what one observer — making an un- and that the boy's eyes tallowed

ings — often a stylized eye believed to kind reference to a Boston reservoir them. Their fear eventually M lo the
removal of the figure from the ship.
possess supernatural powers of guid- described as "a snake with the tongue
ance — appeared on the bows of Egyp- hanging out as if it had a drink of Co-
tian ships even before 1000 B.C. More chituate water and did not like it."

elaborate figureheads, usually swans Clearly, the best of the ship carvers'
or horses, later adorned Phoenician creations were their human figures.
and Roman vessels. But the zenith of Most often the figures were female
form was achieved on the mag-
this art — appreciatively characterized by Jo-

nificent wooden sailing ships of the seph Conrad as "women with mural
19th Century. crowns, women with flowing robes,
The master ship carvers of the day stretching out rounded arms as to
if
si •
practiced their work on a variety of point the way."
shipboard subjects, including figure- For the ship carvers themselves, the
heads, nameboards, billetheads, tran- road ahead was anything but promis-
soms and binnacles (right}. On clipper ing. As the construction of wooden
ships — in keeping with pioneer de- vessels declined, more and more carv-
signer John W. Griffiths' conviction ers closed their doors and put away
that "the head of a ship stamps an im- their shop-front notices such as the
pression on the mind in relation to the one below. By 1896, when this sign
entire ship" — figureheads such as the was removed from the entranceway of
ones on the following pages provided the Boston firm of Hastings & Gleason.
the bulk of the carvers' commissions. an ancient craft had all but disap-
Most figureheads straightforwardly peared from the seafarers' world.

CARVING
KpStaJ^.
Carved in 1839. this sign served five Boston firms in Ml MSion during
< the next 57 yean
62
63
64 A golden lure for clipper builders

brought down, first The main-

the royal and then the topgallant yards.
mast seemed firmer without their weight. But the gale continued to
increase, in periodic, thundering gusts.
It continued through another night. In such weather the clipper's

sharp bow no longer sliced through the waves. The seas had grown so
large that the CJoud would race downhill as one wave rose astern, then
rise as the moving mountain went under her. Atop the peak of the giant
wave, her masts would shudder and her thin row of reefed sail would
slat violently. Then down again, so deep in the trough that her sails
would go limp. All night long the clipper lurched and heaved as the
phosphorescent surf exploded all around her.
The storm raged on through the morning of the next day, and early that
afternoon Creesy was told that his ship was leaking. The forecastle,
positioned atop the main deck on theFJying CJoud, was already awash
with much more water than could have come in from the deck, and it was
getting ahead of the pumps. Bellowing to each other on the afterdeck,
Creesy and the ship's carpenter analyzed the situation. The carpenter
thought that the stopper in the anchor hawsehole to port had been forced
out and that the water could be entering there. Creesy barked at the
helmsman. The Flying CJoud eased off the wind slightly and righted a
bit while the carpenter went to inspect the hawsehole. A few moments

later he came racing aft to report that the CJoud had been sabotaged.
The hawsehole stopper had indeed come loose. But after repairing Fiery New Englander Josiah P. Creesy
it, the carpenter saw that the water, instead of draining overboard ivaschosen to be the FJying Cloud's first
through the scuppers, was pouring into the 'tween decks through a hole commander in 1851 on the basis of his
reputation for getting peak performance
beneath an after bunk. As he tried to stopper it, he discovered that some-
from his ships and crews. In four years
one had made it by drilling two auger holes through the ship's deck and at the heJm. Creesy more than justified his

using a marlinespike to join the two into a single opening four inches selection: He made five runs/rom New
York to California in an average time of
across. The sea poured through it into the under decks and hold, soaking
just over 100 days, and twice made the
some of the cargo and threatening to swamp the ship. voyage in a breakneck 89 days, a record
Creesy put the clipper back on course. As the storm tore at her scant that was never surpassed under saiJ.

sails and the crew heaved at the pumps, the carpenter and his helpers
worked to plug the leak. Creesy meanwhile ordered the mate to find the
culprit. It did not take long; the man had been foolish enough to drill the
holes under his own bunk, hoping, no doubt, to force the CJoud into port.
And another crew member reported seeing him emerging from the fore-
castle with an auger in his hand. It was also discovered that the saboteur
had had an accomplice. Both men were seized and put into irons.
Meanwhile, the carpenter's ministrations proved successful: The fore-
castle was soon pumped out and theFJying CJoud continued her plung-
ing course southward. By the time the gale finally moderated the next
day, the clipper's deck was a mass of splintered railings and gear. There
was so much repair work and cleanup to be done that Creesy had the
irons taken off the two saboteurs long enough for them to help.
On July 19, dainty storm petrels and great wheeling albatrosses ap-
peared in the sky overhead, indicating that the FJying CJoud was
approaching Cape Horn. That afternoon the wind gradually veered into
the northeast and picked up strength once again. Creesy had to order
the studding sails taken in before their booms dipped into the water
and were carried away.
 65

The next morning Mrs. Creesy. her arms hugging the sides of her
swaying chart table, told her husband that they had better alter course
By her calculations, the point of Cape San Diego lay dead ahead, and the
weather was too thick to sight the land in time to wear off. The rain that
had come on with the northerly wind had turned to sleet and was rapidly
developing into a blizzard. Creesy sent the Cloud northward, away from
the rocky cape, and called for furled courses; however, he left the top-
sails up, close-reefed so that, as the ship sank into the valleys between
the huge waves, these upper sails would hold
the wind and keep the ship
under way and maneuverable.
TheCJoud was fairly in Cape Horn weather now. The snowstorm con-
tinued throughout the 20th as the ship zigzagged bac k to the south. The
wind drove the snow across the deck in nearly horizontal sheets, piling
driftson the leeward sides of the deckhouses. The next day the tempera-
ture moderated a bit and the snow turned to rain. But. as Creesy noted,
]osiah Creesy used this 17-inch-long there was a "bad sea Running" and the Cloud was shipping water across
brass speaking trumpet to shout orders to
her deck. Then, on July 22. the skies cleared. Ten miles off her starboard
crewmen high in the rigging or to
hail nearby vessels amid stormy seas. The
bow stood Cape San Diego, a black band of granite over the slate-gray
instrument is inscribed with the sea. Mrs. Creesy's dead-reckoning navigation was exactly on target
captain's name j'ust above its flared bell. In moderated winds, the Flying Cloud ran through the Strait of Le
Maire, between Cape San Diego and Staten Island, with all sails set By
6 p.m. she was safely through and in open water, with the land out of
sight. A strong tide was setting northward, and Creesy posted a lookout
in the bow to keep watch for ship-crushing formations of drifting ice.
Next morning the wind was light; Creesy ordered all sails set again. And
at 8 a.m. there it was: Cape Horn, only five miles north of them.

The snow-covered. 1.391-foot headland away to a white-blanketed

fell

shore. Swirling clouds of ducks swept in moving patterns over the bleak
promontory, swinging down and splash-landing near the rocks. As the
sailors watched, another snow squall raced toward them. Cape Horn
disappeared behind a white curtain, and the Cloud raced on westward
toward the Pacific. Mrs. Creesy. with the aid of Maury's charts, had
navigated the clipper so well that she had not gone much farther south
than 56°. well north of the course that most ships took around the Horn
By noon of July 26 the Cloud was at lat. 50.57°. romping up the western
coast of South America in a fine breeze under clear skies. Her transit of
the Horn had been remarkably swift. Many ships spent weeks and some-
times even months making good the same distance that she had covered
in just three days.
Before facing the Horn. Creesy had lowered the topgallant and ro\al
yards to relieve the weakened mainmast; now. with the weather im-
proved, he sent them up again. For four days the winds continued mod-
erate, with only an occasional light rain squall, and by July 30 the Cloud
was more than 1,000 miles up the coast at 4 58' S with all studding
1 .

sails drawing and a fresh southeasterly oil her starboard quarter But late

that afternoon the wind became squally. Crees\ brought in some of the
studding sails. The wind soon piped up to storm strength, and h\ 2 a.m.
of July 31 the Cloud was staggering under a series of sharp squall-
dawn everyone was eying the weakened mainmast again.
Creesy decided to chance leaving the topgallants set this time t<
66 A golden lure for clipper builders

what she could do. He stood spread-legged on his slanting quarter-deck Carrying only her topsails and a
small jib in a violent gale, the Flying
and watched his fine ship leap ahead before each smashing squall. A
Cloud scuds past Cape Horn in this
mate and his crew, hanging onto the lee rail, logged the Cloud's speed. oil by 1 9th Century marine painter /. E.
One man tossed a weighted piece of wood called a drogue over the side; Buftersivorth. The topsails— low

another watched a sandglass as the line attached to the drogue flew off enough tor easy reefing but still
high enough to catch the wind when the
its drum. The line was marked at intervals to measure the amount
ship ivas in the trough of a wave — enabled
yanked out after the drogue. Creesy and his men were dumfounded to the vessel to hold her course in a storm
see the line play itself out entirely before all the sand had passed through without overtaxing the masts and rigging.

the glass. This meant that the Flying Cloud was traveling at a speed
somewhere At first they could not believe it. but
in excess of 18 knots.
when Mrs. Creesy calculated their noon-to-noon run from her sextant
observations she found that theFJying Cloud had run 374 nautical miles,
an average speed of about 15V2 knots. No sailing ship had ever before
attained this speed. Other clippers would soon go still faster, but almost
a quarter of a century would pass before any steamship could match the
pace of the Flying Cloud.
Streaking for the Golden Gate, her gilt-and-white angel clipping
through the wave tops like a dolphin, theCloud raced on through more
squalls. Finally, to spare his groaning mainmast, Creesy ordered the
topgallants taken in. and double-reefed the fore- and mizzen-topsails.
 67

The clipper scarcely slowed,making 334 miles on the next day's run.
On August 1 CJoud raced past the Equator and into north
2 the Flying
latitudes. The northeast trades took over, fresh and full. Creesy kept
everything flying; he knew by now that he stood a chance of breaking
the Surprise's record of 96 days. For the next 12 days he was blessed
with favorable winds and relatively clear weather, and the Cloud de-
voured her route with runs averaging better than 200 miles a day. On
August 24 the wind dropped, and the next two days brought an agoniz-
ing succession of "Light Baffling" breezes, as Creesy described them.
Then the fresh winds returned, followed on August 29 by squalls. Rac-
ing for a record, Creesy kept his lofty sails flying— and lost his
fore-topgallant mast.
But he refused to give up now. And most of his previously disaffected
crew had also caught the fever. With superhuman effort, despite more
shrieking squalls, they got the topgallant mast back in place in only
24 hours. Then, on August 31. Creesy recorded: "At 6 AM made South
Farallone." The Farallon Islands mark the entrance to San Francisco
harbor. Running for the finish line with a squally northwester on her
weather bow and with everything flying except PerkCreesy's nightshirt,
the Flying Cloud swooped down on the Colden Gate. She pulled up
briefly before entering San Francisco Bay, and a pilot came aboard to
guide her to her dock.
Most of Captain Creesy's crew immediately deserted and swarmed
through the city's saloons on their way to the gold fields. As a result,
within hours everyone in San Francisco had heard the news: Donald
McKay's amazing new clipper had made the passage from New York
to the Golden Gate in 89 days 21 hours, bettering the time of the Sur-
prise by nearly a week.
After selling his cargo of cheese, butter and other goods prized in thai
brash but remote metropolis. Creesy put to sea again, racing on around
the world, across the Pacific to Canton, then around the Cape of Good
Hope and on to New York with a fresh crop of tea. There. Creesy and the
Cloud received a riotous welcome. Newspapers called the voyage a na-
tional triumph. "The log of the Flying Cloud is now before us. wrote
one editor. "It is the most wonderful record that pen ever indited, tor
rapid as was the passage, it was performed under circumstances b) do
means the most favorable."
The Flying Cloud had paid for herself on this one round-the-world
voyage, and the grateful Messrs. Grinnell and Minturr. had her log print-
ed in gold letters on white making a number of copies to distribute
silk,

to friends of the firm in the hope that the) would remember the feat the
next time the Fl\ ing (-loud loaded for California

In the years that followed the Flying Cloud's legendary run to San Fran*
cisco, more and more clipper ships i amedown the runways <>t shipyards
from Maine to Virginia and struck oft around the Horn with lucrative
cargoes for the ( lalifornia market. In man)
ases, the) sailed on from San
i

Francisco to China, where the) took on BJgoes ol tea

< often destined
not for the Americans but for the tea-thirsty British
Only a few years earlier, tli.it trade would have been loaed to Ameri- i
68 A golden lure for clipper builders
 69
While a pilot schooner bobs in the/oreground, the Flying Steamship lines charged passengers $600 first-class and $300
Cloud (far left) and the steamer John L. Stephens converge on steerage for a five-week trip from New York via Panama; clippers.
San Francisco Bay in this 1855 lithograph. Both clipper whose chief business was freight, usually took about four
ships and paddle-wheelers prospered on the run to California. months by way of Cape Horn and charged passengers a flat S300.
70 A golden lure for clipper builders

can ships by the British Navigation Acts, laws that since the time of
Oliver Cromwell had, in effect, assured a monopoly for British ships in
trade between the British Isles and the Orient. The British East India
Company, a gigantic quasi-governmental trading institution, had grown
fat and rich as its vessels made their ponderous way out to Asian ports of

call and back to London. Until the early 1800s, they often had taken a
year or a year and a half each way. On such voyages two to three knots
was the average rate of speed, all light sails were taken in at sundown,
and if there was the merest suggestion of bad weather the ship hove to for
the night. During the first half of the 19th Century, competition with
other British ships caused the stately East Indiamen to speed up their
runs to the Orient, but they still lagged considerably behind the swifter
vessels from the United States.
Fortunately for the British merchant marine, Parliament foresaw that
eventual economic isolation would be the consequence of the Naviga-
tion Acts. In 1849 Parliament repealed them, in the hope that British
merchants would be stimulated to construct faster vessels that could
compete with the trading vessels of other nations — particularly the
speedy American clippers.
Parliament did not have to wait long for its plan to work. In August
1850 an American clipper arrived in Hong Kong to take on tea for Lon-
don. The ship was the Oriental, under the command of Nat Palmer's
brother Ted, and she was one of the fastest vessels in the American
merchant fleet at that time. On her voyage out to Hong Kong from New
York she had broken the record for the route, running it in 81 days. With
this stunning accomplishment to recommend her, British shippers in
Hong Kong competed for space in her holds. The East Indiamen had
been loading tea at freight rates of 3 pounds 10 shillings per 50 cubic
feet. Palmer took on a cargo of fresh tea at the unheard-of rate of six
pounds per 40 cubic feet. Crammed to her bulkheads with 1,600 tons of
the precious crop, the Oriental raised anchor and slid out of Hong Kong
harbor on August 28, 1850. In 97 days she was in London.
The arrival of the Oriental caused a sensation in Victorian London.
Crowds flocked to the West India Dock to inspect this tall newcomer.
They commented on her sharp bow and her long, slim hull, and pointed
to her soaring skysail yards. The British had built some ships larger than
the Oriental, but none with such towering masts, which seemed to rise
like redwoods in a forest of oak. The Oriental lorded it over every ship in
the harbor, many whose boats drifted alongside her, oars dripping
of
while the mariners in them shook their heads in disbelief. Palmer saw to
it that every sail was furled tight as a drumhead, every bit of brightwork

polished, every line coiled in place.

London's countinghouses buzzed with envious comment and dire
predictions. Now that England's merchant fleet was no longer protected
by the Navigation Acts, the United States of America, only 74 years old,
bade fair to dominate her parent country's tea trade just as surely as this
big clipper dominated the British ships in the Thames. "The Thunder-
er," as The Times of London was known, thundered: "We must run a
race with our gigantic and unshackled rival. We must set our long-
practised skill, our steady industry, and our dogged determination,
 .

71

The Oriental, first U.S. clipper to carry against his youth, ingenuity, and ardor. It is a father who runs a race with
teafrom China to England after the repeal his son. A fell necessity constrains us and we must not be beat. Let our
of British statutes that restricted
ship-builders and employers take warning in time."
the trade to British vessels, approaches
the West India Dock in London on They did. Before the Oriental dropped down the Thames to return to
December 3, 1850. The Oriental's arrival China, the Admiralty requested permission to take off her lines, and she
wrote a chronicler of the clipper era,
was towed to the dry dock at Blackwall to provide example and inspira-
"aroused almost as much apprehension
and excitement in Great Britain as had begun to pro-
tion for local shipbuilders. In short order, the British
was created by the memorable Tea Party duce vessels that could challenge the American monopoly on speed
held in Boston harbor in 1773."
under sail. Their clippers were smaller than the Yankee ships designed
to sail around Cape Horn, but they were well suited to the Ihina run in (

that they had a narrower beam that made them fasterand more weatherk
in the light breezes of the Indian Ocean.
Thus, within two years of the Sea WiU lis startling Hong Kong-tO-
New York run of 1849. the clipper had become established .is the most
desirable ship for long-haul voyages to an) I orner of the globe. Ship-
yards in Britain and the United States were building Uppers as last <

as they could, and merchants everywhere? gladl) paid the Uppers' <

higher freight rates. The shippers were buying Bpeed and. as more
and more Uppers competed
i toi their business, < Upper aptams drove
i

their ships and their crews to the limit to see that the nstomer ^<>t
(

what he was pa) ing tor.

From mold loft to launch:
genesis of a Yankee clipper

Building a clipper involved a measure of intuition, since no

two clipper hulls were exactly alike: Each was a fresh at-

tempt The designer first

to create the perfect sailing ship.
sculpted a model of the hull (below and pages 56-57],
whose curves could be enlarged and outlined in the mold
produce templates for shaping the timbers.
loft (right] to

If had been commissioned from a small ship-

the clipper
yard like the one pictured on these pages, the various
woods— rock maple and white oak from Massachusetts,
cedar and pine from Maine, live oak from the South— were
often cut specifically for that ship (big yards usually stock-
piled timber so that construction could begin as soon as
orders were received). The trees were felled during the win-
termonths, when most of their rot-inducing sap had fallen
into the roots and lower trunk. In the spring, to hurry the
seasoning, the timbers were stripped of bark, steeped in hot
water to remove the remaining sap and dried in the sun.
Over the following months, teams of craftsmen— carpen-
ters, dubbers. joiners, calkers and fasteners— worked to-

gether to translate the designer's vision into reality. Tim-

bers were sculpted into structural elements and adzed
smooth. Thousands of wooden fasteners called treenails
(but pronounced "trunnels") were split by hand to within a
fraction of the standard inch-and-a-quarter diameter. And
planks were steamed in ovens until they were pliable
enough to be bent into the requisite hull contours. Gradual-
ly the new clipper rose on its bed of keelblocks by the river's
edge, where, less than a year after the order for the ship was
placed, it finally reached completion.

With a mallet and a gouge, a

designer shapes his model (below]
be/ore taking it to the mold loft

(right). There, the model's contours —

enlarged to full size — are traced on
the floor with chalk; flexible battens,
temporarily pinned to the floor,
guide the tracing and ensure smooth
curves. The chalk lines, in turn,
are guides for making wooden
templates, which will be used as
patterns for the ship's ribs.

/
MHMi
73
A horse-powered derrick lowers one of
the massive white-oak timbers that make
the clipper's keel— the backbone of the
hull. Two men guide the timber so that the
butt, which has been cut on a stepped
diagonal, will form a snug joint with the
piece that is already in pJace on the
keelblocks. This junction, called a hook-
scarf joint, will then be clenched with
yard-long iron pins, known as dri/tbolts.

On a platform built out on either side

of the keel, the ship's frames, or ribs, are
assembled from sections that have
been hewn to match the curves of the
mold-loft templates. One by one, the
gigantic horseshoe-shaped ribs are hoisted
upright and fitted onto the keel.
Once they are up, the keelson another
composite of joined timbers is bolted
along the hull's center line, sandwiching
the frames tightly against the keel.
 that has been built up alongside the hull, a drills holesthrough each plank and into the /rames behind. A
On scaffolding
mallet man followshim. securing the planks by pounding
dubber (left) uses an adz to flatten sections of the curve of a frame
so that the planking— some of it nearly seven inches thick-
hardwood treenails into each drill hole. Later, another yard hand
will saw each treenail off flush with the side of the ship.
will sit snugly in place. Working with a big auger, a borer (right j
 77

With the deck beams installed, three

yard hands support a structural element
called a knee, while a fourth worker
pounds a heavy lumber prop to wedge the
knee firmly in position. A fifth man
(left) drives driftbolts through another

knee to holdKnees, each cut from a

if.

single piece ofwood, reinforced the joints

where the deck beams met the frames.
Each beam had a hanging knee set under
it and a lodging knee on each side.

A team of calkers seals the deck with

oakum and tar. Two men (background, left

and right) force strands of tar-soaked

hemp— the oakum— between the planks.
Another calker holds a long-handled
hawsing iron while a mallet man strikes
the head of the iron to drive the oakum
into the cracks; his tool, called a hawsing
beetle, made a distinctive "boink"
sound. Behind them a fifth worker pours
hot tar into the seams as a final seal.
 To start the vessel down the ways at
(he launch, a pair of yard hands smash
the blocks of wood that support the
keeJ. As the blocks are knocked away, the
weight of the hull is thrown onto
the cradles— piles of beams built up along
the hull's underbelly. An interface
between two layers of the cradle beams
has been greased and, as the weight
settles onto the cradles, the top layer
begins to slip, letting the ship move

down the incline and into the water.

With a clatter of tumbling keelblocks

and a tremendous splash, the new vessel
enters the water stern first. Temporary
braces keep her rudder from swinging to
one side and breaking off. The clipper's
designer and some of her owners ride on
her deck, eager to see how she will

take to her element. Following the launch

festivities, she will be towed to a
rigger's wharf and fitted out with the
miles of rigging that will support
her permanent masts, yards and sails.

*-
Chapters

Behind the romance, a bitter test of wills

 81

1 ul\ 13, 1851. was a day of great anticipation on the New Yi rk

A new clipper ship, the Challenge, was

nCity waterfront:
set off on her maiden voyage. Sailing day for a
about to
was always a special event, but theChailenge caused
clipper
even more of a stir than most ships. At 2.00b tons, with a
I

230-foot mainmast and an astonishing 12.780 square yards of sail, she

was the largest and the most imposing clipper ever built up to that time.
And she was to be commanded by the celebrated Robert •Bully" Water-
man, former captain of the first true clipper, the Sea WiU h, the ship
that had stunned the world by speeding from China to New York
in 74 days in 184 (
)

At 43. Bully Waterman was a rich man. thanks to his years with the Sea
Witch and. before that, with the packet Nan hez. le had been intending 1

to retire and enjoy his wealth ashore, but the shipping firm of N. L. & G.
Griswold (a so successful that rivals said the initials stood for
company
"No Loss and Great Gain") induced him to take command of the Chal-
lenge by promising him a bonus of $10,000 if he got her to San Francisco
in 90 days— a mark no one had achieved, although the Flying Cloud was
even then in the process of setting her record of 89 days and 21 hours.
Almost as irresistible as the bonus was the opportunity to drive an un-
tried vessel— a temptation for any captain.
Now, on this summer's day seven weeks after a gala launching that
had drawn bigger crowds than any other in New York memory, a skele-
ton crew aboard the Challenge cast off her lines and took her down the
East River to a position near Battery Park at the foot of Manhattan Island.
There she paused, riding at anchor while harbor taxis ferried out four
passengers and the rest of her full complement: the captain and three
mates. 56 crewmen and eight cabin boys.
On the banks of Battery Park and aboard small craft bobbing in the
harbor, spectators awaited a glimpse of the captain. Bob Waterman,
having a flair for the dramatic, was the last to arrive— and he made his
entrance in style. Dressed for the occasion in a tall beaver hat. frock coat
and trousers pressed razor-sharp, he stood in the stern of the boat that
rowed him briskly through the milling dinghies and dories. Spotting
him, the onlookers sent up a cheer. The captain raised his topper to
return the salute, then climbed smartly up the rope ladder and
onto the

quarter-deck of theChailenge. His mate was waiting for him. "All right.
Mister! A man announced in a voice loud
for the wheel." the captain

enough to carry to his floating audience. "Give me a jib and .itorctops'l"

Nimble-footed men swarmed up the rigging and out along tin- spars
The sails unrolled like enormous white wings. The windlass clanked as

A lhi( kel of rigging rises above vessels

mvuiting loading <ii New fork's East River
whan B6 in the ihhos Setting off from
here, clipper master* men iiessJ) pn
their ships and reus
< toa< hieveiw ord-
breaJung runs "She ivas buill for hard
usage." soul one upturn of his lip]
I I

"and I intended she should do her dutj

82 BeWnd the romance, a bitter test of wills

the anchor inched up from the water, and the chanteyman helped along Spectators at William Webb's East
River shipyard cheer the Challenge— the
the labor by singing out the rhythmic lines of a familiar sailor's air (a
first three-decked clipper built in
favoriteon such occasions was "A bully ship and a bully crew," with the America and the largest merchantman of
crewmen grunting in chorus as they leaned into the capstan bars, "Doo- her day — as she slips from the ways on
dah! Doo-dah!"). Her anchor dripping at the cathead, her wide sails set May 24, 1851. "End or broadside on. her
appearance is truly beautiful." said
before the breeze, the ChaJlenge gathered way and moved grandly down
an observer. "If cast in a mould she could
the bay as the audience shouted final cheers of farewell. not have been more perfect to the eye.''
If the sailing was an inspiring occasion for those was
looking on, it

something quite different for those aboard. Most of the men moving at
the capstan to the chanteyman's call were drunk and staggering, and
most of their shipmates still lay unconscious and stinking of booze in the
berths where they had been dumped after being helped or carried
aboard. Only a few of the men adroitly scampering about the rigging
were in fact members of the crew; the majority were longshoremen
brought aboard for the occasion, and as soon as the ship began to move
they went over the side into waiting boats and were rowed back to shore.
Nor was the captain exactly the gentlemanly figure that he had seemed
to be when boarding the ship. The precise details of what happened on
board as the Challenge was leaving port are not known. But if Waterman
 83

was following his usual practice, he had the sailors assembled on

deck— as soon as they could be roused— to witness a strange, symbolic
ritual. He called for a bucket of sea water and splashed his own face with

it— a gesture designed to convey that he was washing away his shore
self and assuming a different persona for life at sea. It is known that on
this day, surveying the sorry lot who would crew the Challenge, he
muttered, "I'll make sailors of 'em, or else mincemeat.'' He was not long
in underlining his intention with action. Before the Challenge was out of
New York Harbor. Waterman rebuked a black steward for some unre-
corded offense by bloodying the man's scalp with a carving knife.
For the watchers ashore, a graceful clipper was winging toward ro-
mance and adventure. For the men on board ship, a hellish voyage
was getting under way.

TheChalJenge was by no means unique in this Jekyll-and-Hyde contrast.

As it happened, the voyage on which she set off that day in 1851 would
engender particularly lasting notoriety, because the brutal events that
ensued would later be held up for examination in court and in the press.
—
Similar incidents, however different not in character but only in de-
gree and in being concealed from public notice — were the common stuff
of clipper voyages. Many — probably most — clipper passages were bit-
ter contests of wills between surly crews who were being compelled to

do difficult, dangerous work for which many of them had no skills or

special liking, and captains who were determined to get their vessels to
their destinations as rapidly as possible, however hard that might be on
the sailors. To some extent, the same could be said of any ships of the era.
But because clipper owners and masters put such emphasis on speed
and therefore were so much more demanding of their vessels and their
crews, the animosities and harshness that plagued merchant shipping in
general were greatly intensified aboard clippers.
A major cause of this endemic conflict was a shortage of skilled sea-
men. Only a generation or two earlier, every ambitious lad in the north-
eastern United States had wanted to go to sea. In 1805. for one striking
example, 20 young men from Harvard volunteered as ordinary seamen
aboard the merchant ship America. A dozen years later, a follow-up
study revealed that 19 of the 20 had become captains (the 20th had
disappeared). Such a prodigality of manpower was seen no more. The
opportunities of the opening West were an increasing attraction. So
were the growing number of factory jobs— providing better pay and
more freedom than life at sea, even if the factory worker labored from
5 a.m. until well into the night six days a week.
In the decade since 1840, the demand for seamen had grown while the
supply had diminished: The total tonnage of all United States merchant
sailing ships had risen from 900.000 to 1.5 million, and oceangoing
steamer tonnage had gone from zero to 45.000. Given the preference of
Americans for jobs ashore and the strength of the young nation's econo-
my, American clippers had to be crewed largeK b\ foreigners. As often
as not, they were the dregs of Europe's waterfront dives.
Moreover, these newcomers were also deserting for the West, re-
sponding to the same lure that had drawn off so many other Americans:
84 Behind the romance, a bitter test of wills

California gold and the boom that it generated. Some of the more respon-
sible captains to point out to the shipowners that $12 a month
attempted
for the man-killingwork aboard a clipper could hardly compete with the
then princely wages of $50 a week that were being offered in the shops
and saloons of San Francisco. But the shipowners, perhaps realizing that
they could not hope to match such sums, refused to offer any more
money for foremast hands.
Inevitably they turned to the crimp, who virtually kidnapped the dere-
licts off waterfronts everywhere and delivered them to ships in exchange
for an advance on the man's pay. Nor were derelicts the only victims: A
seaman newly returned from a voyage would saunter into the nearest bar
or brothel, and next day find himself awaking from a stupor aboard
another ship. Often the stupor was induced by drugs in his drink. An
inventive method was employed by one San Francisco saloon operator
who called herself Miss Piggott. She offered her clientele a doped drink
(referred to by the knowledgeable as a Miss Piggott Special) at a bar in
front of which was a trap door. A crimp easily scooped up the drugged
sailor-to-be in the basement.
The captains had no choice but to contract with these providers, since
therewas no other way to man their ships. They did object to the fre-
quent substitution of corpses, and to other unfair tactics — for example,
the practice of one San Francisco crimpknown as Nikko the Lapp, who
often delivered dummies cleverly made of sailor's gear stuffed with
straw; he sometimes inserted a few rats in a dummy's arm to make it
twitch like that of a man in a drunken sleep.
Few crews included more than half a dozen able-bodied seamen who
had voluntarily signed on; most of the rest of atypical crew of 50 or more
were victims of the vicious crimping dragnet. No man along the water-
front in the United States was entirely safe. A poignant instance was that
of a ship captain who overindulged while in a New Orleans saloon and
subsequently woke up in the forecastle of a strange ship; luckily, he was
able to prove his identity before the vessel sailed.
Understandably, the men recruited in this manner did not often make
willing, eager, obedient sailors — although they were generally sturdy
enough. Merchant captain Samuel Samuels declared that seamen of that
era were "the toughest class of men in all respects. They could stand the
worst weather, food and usage." But, he added, "they had not the slight-
est idea of morality or honesty, and gratitude was not in them. The dread
of the belaying-pin or heaver" — a heaver was a tarred, knotted rope that
officers used like a billy club
— "kept them in subjection. tried to hu-
I

manize these brutal natures as much as possible, but the better they were
treated the more trouble my officers had with them."
The clipper captain had to be even tougher than the men if he hoped to
forge a serviceable crew out of kidnapped landlubbers and a few experi-
enced but rebellious seamen. And to wrest optimum performances from
both crew and ship, he also had to be knowledgeable and single-minded.
For three or four months, without a moment's letup day or night, he was
under unremitting tension, since the success or failure of the voyage was
entirely on his shoulders. He had to keep the clipper flying every possi-
ble square foot of sail, judging what she would carry by such arcane
 85

Drunken seamen topple a fruit vendor's mast butts, the rhythm of her timbers
criteria as the creak of the ship's
stand and harass an elegantly dressed and the rush of water past her hull.
woman on the New York wharves in this
1857 oil painting entitled After
Running the ship at the very limit of her potential sometimes un-
aLong Cruise. Sodden sailors themselves nerved the other officers. A passenger who sailed aboard the Nightin-
were often victimized by unscrupulous gale from New Melbourne in 1854 recalled an occasion when a
York to
owners of saloons and boardinghouses.
first mate named Bartlett came on duty at 4 p.m. and found the main-
"They worked like horses at sea,''
observed one clipper captain, "and spent topgallant sail straining in a heavy blow. "(Captain Mather." the mate
their money like asses ashore." said tentatively to his commander, "that maintopgallant sail is laboring
very hard." He suggested that the sail should be reefed. "It is drawing
well," replied the captain; "let it stand, Mr. Bartlett."
Two hours later, when Bartlettwas relieved by the second mate, ht* t

captain still stood at the weather rail, and as Bartlett went below be
heard his replacement repeat his own anxious concern: "Captain Math-
er, that maintopgallant sail is struggling hard." Replied the I aptain im-
placably. "It holds a good full. Let it stand. Mr M.k l.irl.md."

A similar recollection of a captain's determination survives in the

journal of a passenger aboard Donald M< k.u 's I r.u k < Upper Lightning
on her way to Melbourne: "Top gallant sails not taken in although the
blocks 18 inches above the lee rail are frequently under water the dec k
is on an angle of 45° to 50°." lie recorded in awe The sei <>nd mate,
'

whose watch it is, says. 'Now this is wh.it I call carrying on

1
86 Behind the romance, a bitter test of wills

So volatile was the combination of a resentful crew and the need for an
all-out, life-imperiling performance that every clipper captain believed
in iron discipline. The captain who became most famous — indeed, infa-
mous—for this belief was Robert Waterman, and the engine of his noto-
riety was the Challenge's maiden voyage.

Waterman must have been in a particularly foul mood the day the Chal-
lenge left New York. Besides injuring the steward, he almost immediate-
ly fell into first mate and fired him on the spot.
an argument with his
He now faced promoting his second mate, a shifty-looking
a choice of
fellow of uncertain talents named Alexander Coghill, or finding some-
one else. The decision was made easy for him. It happened that the well-
known packet ship Guy Mannering sat at anchor near Sandy Hook,
awaiting a favorable tide for her entrance into New York Harbor. Just as
Waterman was pondering how to replace his mate, a ship's boat put out
from the Mannering and approached the Challenge. In the stern sat a
hulking 200-pound figure whom Waterman He was James
recognized.
Douglass, first mate of the Mannering and known to Waterman by repu-
tation as a "bucko" mate, the savage sort that crewmen hated. "Black"
Douglass, as he was called by many an unhappy crew, was harsher than
most. It was said of him that he "would rather have a knockdown fight
with a lot of sailors than eat a good dinner."

The Mannering's boat came alongside, and Douglass climbed up the

Challenge's rope ladder. Professing to have no desire to go ashore when
the Mannering docked, Douglass asked if he could ship out aboard the
Challenge. If Waterman had any scruples against bucko mates, he chose
to ignore them now. He signed Douglass on immediately and ordered
him to make the Challenge ready for sea without delay.
As the Challenge headed out into the open Atlantic, Waterman took a
good look at the crew, and his mood darkened. Though he was responsi-
ble for the largest and most heavily sparred merchant ship on the seas,
and a $60,000 cargo ranging from barrels of champagne to plates of
boiler iron, he had only a handful of competent crewmen. Of the 56 men
aboard, only six had ever taken a helm, and of those only three could
make the splices, sailor's knots and general rigging repairs that qualified
them as able-bodied seamen. One half of the crew had never sailed
before, and several had clearly come aboard for no better reason than to
get a free ride to California and its gold. Some had just been released
from New York jails. Many were Dutch, French, Italian or German; some
spoke little or no English, and thus would barely be able to understand
commands. Waterman knew better than to expect a high-quality crew
from crimps — the source of most of this lot. But it seemed to Waterman
that his pickings were worse than usual, probably because hundreds of
other vessels had sailed from New York in the last few months, and the
waterfront had been stripped of seamen.
After huddling with his officers. Waterman called all hands aft and
gave them a stern lecture. They were crew members of the clipper ship
Challenge whether they liked it or not, and whether they liked it or not
they were going to learn to become sailors. If they obeyed orders, they
would be treated fairly; one sign of insubordination or even malinger-
 —

87

ing, and they would suffer for it. As he harangued the crew, studying
he stretched out his threats to provide time for the
their resentful faces,
mates complete a mission he had given them. Methodically they went
to
through every sea chest and duffel bag in the forecastle, collecting a
formidable arsenal of pistols, bowie knives, slingshots and knuckle-
dusters, which they took on deck and tossed into the sea. Waterman then
ordered the crewmen to form a line and file past the ship's carpenter,
who stood at an anvil and knocked off the tip of the sailor's knife that
every man carried in his belt. Waterman could not have these knives
thrown overboard; a sailor would be helpless aloft without a knife to cut
open stubborn knots. But without tips the knives would be less danger-
ous weapons in case of trouble.
This somber ceremony was followed by a labor-apportioning ritual
standard to all ships at the start of a voyage. In these few minutes the
demanding regimen of the months ahead was immutably fixed by the
first and second mates, who divided the men into two watches and made

the work assignments. About half a dozen crewmen— the carpenter,

the cook, the sailmaker and other specialists— were exempt from the
watches; they worked whatever hours their special functions called for.
From the remaining hands assembled before them, the first and second
mates took turns choosing. The first mate selected the man he deemed
the likeliest-looking candidate and ordered him to step to the port side of
the ship; the second mate then chose a man and directed him to the
starboard side. Both mates continued in this manner until the division
was complete. The so-called port and starboard watches each served
four hours on duty, followed by four hours off— but the off-duty hours
were not necessarily free time; the men could be turned out for special
tasks whenever an officer wished. The period between 4 p.m. and 8 p.m.
was broken into two two-hour shifts. This alternated the schedule day by
day so that one group of men did not always have to take the unpopular
midnight to 4 a.m. watch.
The men were put to work at once. Some were ordered to heave at the
standing rigging— the stays and shrouds that held the masts in place
tightening loose lines and taking the strain off excessively taut ones.
Other men were sent into the running rigging aloft to work the sails.
They climbed up the ratlines, then out to the ends of the yards, getting
This 1 9th Century sailor's bludgeon
such purchase as they could on the thin footropes under their heels.
of braided leather, its weighted ends neatly
worked cord hitching, illustrates how
in
Then, no matter how the spars might swing if the wind was blowing
nautical arts were put to violent uses. hard, no matter how stiff and heavy a rain-drenched sail might be. they
•When wary captains confiscated pistols had to grasp the canvas and either reef it or shake it out. according to
and knives, their men often crafted arsenals
the captain's orders.
of such makeshift but effective weapons.
No one, not even the greenest or youngest hand, had any grace period
to postpone the fearful experience of climbing the towering masts; all

hands were sent aloft early in their first watch. But a wise mate would
mix his new hands with whatever veterans he had aboard; these men.
once they had sobered up and regained their sea legs, knew their w.i\ out
onto the footropes. Following their example, the newcomers learned to
climb the weather side of the rigging— the side from which the wind
was blowing— to take advantage of the angle at whi( h the ship WSJ
heeled. They also learned to keep their eyes fastened on their work An\
88 Behind the romance, a bitter test of wills

Essential tools for the master of many trades

This brass and wood telescope— known as a glass— belonged to Captain John Nickerson of the North America.

The men who captained clipper ships had to be much more longitude to be computed to within a fraction of a degree.
than expert sailors and strong-willed commanders. A clip- In his role as weatherman, any prudent captain took
per captain was a Jack-of-all-trades, usually serving as the along his own barometer. Failure to do so could be disas-
ship's chief navigator, meteorologist, signalman and, when trous: In 1857 the captain of the American clipper Missis-
the necessity arose, its doctor. sippi set sail without his barometer and was caught un-
To perform these diverse tasks, a captain required a vari- awares by a hurricane in the Atlantic. The Mississippi lost

ety of tools, many them personal possessions that he

of all of her masts and, leaking badly, limped into a British

toted from clipper to clipper. They included navigational port three weeks late.

aids such as Matthew Fontaine Maury's revolutionary Hardly less critical among the captain's paraphernalia
Wind and Current Charts and Sailing Directions, tide tables was his medicine chest. With the help of tonics, medical
and a nautical almanac containing detailed astronomical instruments and a copy of Dr. Abraham T. Lowe's Sailor's
tables. These guides were used in conjunction with an array Guide to Health the captain treated the crew for everything
,

of navigational instruments, most prominently a compass, from boils or broken legs to the injuries sailors sometimes
a sextant and a chronometer, whose accuracy permitted inflicted on one another during melees in the forecastle.

The measured the angle of celestial bodies above the

sextant
horizon. Aftermaking sextant sightings and noting the time, the
captain used his nautical almanac to calculate his position.
 89

The ornate mercury barometer at

leftbelonged to Philip Dumaresq, whose
seamanship earned him the nickname
"Prince of Captains" among his peers. The
column is made of mahogany and
brass, while the scales, which indicate at-
mospheric pressure and the type
of weather to expect, are ivorv

A medicine chest from the Sacramento

contains a lancet, lint for dressing wounds

and a collection of odd 19th Century

medicaments, including Peruvian bark,
spirits of camphor, fever powders,
alum, and blue vitriol "for destroying
proud flesh," or abnormal tissue.

Signal flags like these enabled a aptain to ommunii ate

i i

with foreign skippers and port authorities without knowing their

languages The flags WBte rend In using an international I
90 Behind the romance, a bitter test of wills

neophyte who made the mistake of looking down through the long net-
.//</ 'ff* //«*/ /c .-,<,' ,jt
and freeze — but
tC t,
work of rigging was likely to panic he did so he would
if
** **b^*st
rte/ e*//->J~tttt .V«
be startled out of his paralysis by an ear-blistering oath from the mate.
Partly through fear of punishment, partly through the instinct for self-
preservation, the novices soon learned how to keep their balance. The
alternative was to plunge into the seas below or, worse, onto the deck,
which could break a man's back or smash his head like a melon. Practice
helped in these aerial labors, and the new sailors soon discovered that
they would get plenty of that. It seemed that no sooner had they regained
the deck after reefing sail than they were sent aloft to let it out again
because the wind had moderated fractionally.
Less terrifying, but infinitely tedious, was the work of holystoning the
deck — rubbing the planks clean with a prayer book-sized chunk of sand-
stone. At any hour of the day or night, any crewmen who were not
needed in the rigging might be ordered down on their knees to carry out
that job. Some captains and mates made their watches holystone even
under the light of the moon, and the man who dallied over the task was
as subject to the mate's lash as one who dawdled in the rigging.
The men aboard the Challenge were more stubborn than most about
n-t
settling into the ship's routine — or so it seemed to Captain Waterman.
"They would fight among themselves, cut, gouge, bite and kept in a
continual row," he later recalled. The only way they could be held to
their work was by constant haranguing and lashing — treatment that Roused by the cry, "All hands reef
First Mate Douglass seemed only too eager to dispense. Sometimes he tops'ils," crewmen tumble from their
beat them with billets of wood or his knotty fists, and it became clear that fo'c's'le berths and sprint for the
deck in this sketch from the 1863 journal
when his blood was up he could barely control himself. Before the ship
of a Sumatra-bound sailor. Seafaring
was many days out, the passengers noted that crewmen were gathering skill was critical at the sudden onset of a

in groups and muttering about the treatment meted out on board. squall, for a laggard crew could find
the ship riding with tattered sails, or even
The resentment of the crew exploded into violence one month out of
dismasted, in a matter of minutes.
New York. One Sunday morning, when the Challenge was off Rio de
Janeiro, moving along well before a moderate southeast trade wind,
several hands reported to Douglass that they were missing some of their
belongings. Douglass ordered every man on deck with his sea chest, to
see if the missing items could be found. While he stood over them and
speeded the proceedings with his menacing belaying pin, each man was
made to empty his sea chest in front of the others.
It was nearly noon, and Waterman had just come onto the poop deck

with his sextant to take the noon sighting. As he went to the weather rail
and aimed his sextant at the horizon, he was startled to hear from the
foredeck a sudden cry of "Murder!"
It was Douglass' voice. Waterman put down his sextant, ran to the

edge of the quarter-deck and saw that some 20 men were assaulting
Douglass. One had grabbed the mate from behind by the throat and
thrown him to the deck. More than a dozen others leaped into the attack,
flashing sailor's knives.
Waterman picked up an iron belaying pin. jumped down the quarter-
deck steps and raced forward toward Douglass, who was roaring curses
and lurching like a wounded bear in his efforts to shake off his attackers.
Waterman waded in with the belaying pin, swinging it with both hands
and knocking down three men. Seizing one of the attackers. Waterman
 91

wrenched him away, marched him across the deck and tied him to the
rigging. Douglass helped him subdue and tie up another half-dozen
crewmen. The rest of the men lost heart and fled to the forecastle.
By the time the melee had ended, Douglass had 12 knife wounds. He
staggered aft on Waterman's arm. While the captain tended the wounds.
Douglass reported that the first man to jump him and stab him had been a
seaman named Fred Birkenshaw, who belonged to the starboard watch.
just then the second mate, supervisor of that watch, came up from
below to see what the commotion was about. "Mr. Coghill," said Doug-
lass, "I want you to look for that man and be damned quick about it

"What man?" asked the second mate.

"That man Fred, in your watch," Douglass shouted.
Coghill took a lantern and went into the gloomy forecastle. He was
gone for some time before he returned to report that he could not locate
Birkenshaw; in the confusion that followed Waterman's appearance on
deck, Birkenshaw had last been seen slipping behind the pigpen for-
This satirical version of a Christmas
Day menu, created by an American sailor ward of the mainmast.
in 1859, offers such delicacies as "God damn their souls," Douglass exclaimed: "I'm glad the row has
"rats smothered in oil" and "cockroaches
occurred. I can lick them as much as I like and they can't do anything
on half shell." But to many seamen,
an even worse trial than dreary meals was with me when I get to California." Before this incident. Douglass' bucko
the banning of liquor on American ways could conceivably have been censured, in the unlikely event that
clippers, enforced because insurance firms
he was called to account for them; but assaulting a mate could be inter-
gave discounts for "voyages performed
preted as mutiny. Now, he reasoned, he would be justified in the eyes of
without consumption of spirits."
the owners and of the law for any measures he might choose to take to
Qa . o. .
/ keep the men in hand.
Waterman took steps to find out whether the incident had been a spur-
BULL TA&$ •

of-the-moment uprising or a plot. He invited the four passengers to his

cabin and then, before these witnesses, interrogated the crewmen one by
N.
•
one. As W. C. Marston, one of the passengers, later remembered the
scene, the crewman to appear, a fellow named George Smith, denied
first
- <H U«
knowing anything at all about the disturbance. Waterman threatened
I
him with a flogging for withholding information, and Smith changed
t- l.ir Jb
his story. Yes. he saidmutiny had been planned; a plot had been
at last, a

brewing for some time to overpower both Douglass and Waterman. The
/ attempt had been set for the previous night, but had not come off because
neither the mate nor the captain had been on deck at the right time.
mU -

The next two men to be interrogated confirmed Smith's account, and

(
Waterman bullied them into revealing the names of eight conspirators.
/ 1

One was Birkenshaw. who was still nowhere to be found and was pre-
sumed by some to have jumped overboard. The others were swiftly
Uf**J apprehended. Calling all hands aft for an object lesson, Waterman had
the alleged mutineers stripped to the waist, tied by their wrists to the
H rigging and then flogged. At length, the accused men were carried
foB £w moaning and bleeding to their bunks, and the rest of the crew dispersed
in a mood of profound dejection under the malevolent scowls <>t the cap-
( tain and his first mate.
i

The thoughts of Captain Waterman during these days are difficult to

divine, and he left no record to throw light on the matter I'resumabh
he had fears for his personal safety; passengers later testified that he be-
gan keeping a pistol at his side, as did Douglass I'resumabh . too. Water-
92 Behind the romance, a bitter test of wills

The age-old reign of the lash

"The right to flog." declared author or twisted hemp cords, each 18 inches ter's discretion: A man who so much as
James Fenimore Cooper in an 1844 long and knotted near the end. hesitated before replying to his cap-
treatise on corporal punishment at sea, The entire crew had to watch the tain's question could be flogged sense-
is "not in harmony with the spirit of beating, its purpose being as much to less. And clipper seamen usually had
the age." The age's enlightened spirit cow the other sailors into unquestion- no recourse to a ship's surgeon, who
notwithstanding, the ancient practice ing obedience as to punish the male- often intervened on a Naval vessel to
of maintaining discipline by the lash factor. Few witnesses forgot the expe- reduce the number of lashes imposed.
was still very much a part of shipboard rience. Recalled one seaman, "Still the Harrowing descriptions that were
life in the mid-19th Century— particu- dull whacks resound in my ears, fol- published by Cooper and other au-
larly on clippers, whose masters be- lowed by a low moan when the boat- thors —
most notably Richard Henry
lieved that only the sternest measures swain's mate stopped and the poor fel- Dana, whose book Two Years before
could ensure the crew performance low was taken down, his shirt flung the Mast stirred a fierce debate on
necessary to keep their complex sail- over his bleeding back." the mistreatment of sailors — prodded
ing machines moving at top speed. The most trivial offense could call Congress into forbidding flogging on
Flogging was a grimly efficient rit- down an unmerciful whipping. Unit- allAmerican ships in 1850. Captains
ual. The unfortunate sailor was first ed States Navy records of shipboard of clipper ships,however, generally
stripped to the waist and then bound punishment meted out during the late ignored the law and continued to flog
to the rigging or a grating on the main 1840s mention penalties of six lashes into the 1860s. giving their crews the
deck, hands tied above his head, legs for "slow motion in getting into a dubious distinction of being among
spread apart and ankles tied. Usually boat," 12 for "stealing poultry from the the last American seamen to suffer un-
the boatswain's mate wielded the cat- coop" and 12 for "dirty and unwashed der the lash. British clipper sailors
o'-nine-tails, an ugly instrument made clothes." Clipper crews received even fared even worse; flogging was not
of a wooden handle and nine braided harsher sentences, totally at the mas- outlawed on their ships until 1879.

American seamen, complying with the order "All hands on deck to witness punishment," ivatch a shipmate's ordeal
 93

man had legitimate worries for the safety of his vessel and the cargo
she carried. Whatever the case, he became increasingly harsh as the
voyage proceeded, and he condoned, if he did not initiate, behavior on
the part of his first mate that exceeded the demands of discipline and
brought on new crises.
One day during a gale in the roaring forties. Waterman assembled all
hands on deck and ordered a reef in the mizzen topsail. Second Mate
Coghill led his watch up the ratlines and out onto the pitching yard to
do the job. It was perilous and frightening work; the ship was rolling
from side to side in the mountainous seas, nearly dipping the tips of
the mizzen-topsail yard into the water, and the rigging was snapping
back and forth in the powerful gusts. The hands of the crewmen .

so numb from the cold that they could scarcely get a grip on the
drenched and stubborn canvas.
To Douglass, whose men on the deck were responsible for working the
lines to loosen the sail, it seemed that Coghill and his team were too slow
about their He bellowed at Coghill to move the men faster, threaten-
job.
ing to come up and kick them himself if need be. As the Challenge
pitched and yawed, one of Coghill's men suddenly lost his grip, fell
backward and plunged screaming into the sea.
Without seeming to give a moment's thought to saving the fallen man.
the two mates exchanged accusations of incompetence. Coghill shouted
that everyone on the yard would go if Douglass did not trim the upper
—
yard shift its angle to spill the wind from the sail. The men on deck
obliged, but an edge of the sail whipped loose and flapped up over the
yard with such force that two more men lost their purchase and plum-
meted like cannon balls into the hissing water. Another seaman, later
reconstructing the incident, recalled that Coghill himself had kicked
them, in spiteful reaction to Douglass' nagging. However that may be,
Coghill prodded his remaining men to grab at the flailing canvas and get
on with their task of bunching it into rolls along the yard. By the time the
job was done and the men were allowed to descend the ratlines to the
deck, they were trembling from exhaustion and terror.
Death aboard ship was common enough; even a well-run vessel might
lose two or three men in a stiff blow, and old hands would take it in
stride. In such a sea as this there was no hope of rescuing the lost men:
they could not have lived more than a minute or two in the near-freezing
water. Nonetheless, the two mates' dogged attention to their person-
al quarrel, without so much as acknowledging the loss of three men's

lives, was a spectacle that served only to intensity the bitterness ot tin-

hands toward their officers. Some took sick and did not appear on deck
for the next watch.
From the outset of the voyage, so many of the crew had been ill that
Waterman had had the sail room converted into a sii k ba\ A Dumber <>t
the men had come on board alread\ suffering from dysentery jaundu e, .

tuberculosis, delirium tremens, syphilis and gonorrhea. Others, who

had been dumped on the ship with no clothing except the shirts and
trousers they were wearing, came down with chilblains and frostbite as
the clipper neared the antarctic latitudes, then in the grip ot the South-
ern Hemisphere's winter. But after the night the three men tell tmm the
94 Behind the romance, a bitter test of wills

rigging, a dozen or more of the crew began pleading illness most of the
time. Although the condition of a few men was undeniably serious (four
lives would be claimed by various diseases before the voyage was over),
Waterman concluded that many, if not most, were malingering.
Among the crewmen was a Finn, variously called Tons Miti and Ions
Smiti. One day when Smiti was holystoning the deck, Waterman beat
him for working too slowly. Smiti, who could not speak a word of Eng-
lish, tried to explain with sign language that his legs were burning
with chilblains and that he could hardly walk. The plea did nothing to
soften the heart of the captain, although on the next occasion he sus-
pected Smiti of malingering he vented his wrath more indirectly. "I or-
dered the mate to give him the rope's end, and I think he deserved it,"
Waterman recalled; "he appeared to walk well enough when going to
the galley for his tea."
On another day a foremast hand named George Lessig —a scraggly-
bearded complainer called "the Dancing Master" by his shipmates be-
—
cause he was so nimble at dodging the rope refused to go aloft when
ordered to reef sails. He protested that he had dysentery. "Go aft, then!"
thundered Douglass in a rage. "The captain will cure you."
Waterman responded with a unique form of cure. "I think we will
baptize you," he snarled. He signaled to Douglass, directing the mate's
attention to the lee scuppers —
the channels that drained away water
from the deck. A heavy wave had just swept over the bow, and the
waterway was awash with frigid, frothy sea water. The mate, reading the
captain's intention at once, ran aft, seized Lessig and tossed him into
the gurgling scuppers. When Lessig jumped up spouting, Douglass
leaped onto him and forced him under again. Then the mate pulled the
drenched Lessig from the waterway and dragged him across the deck to
the weather side and tied him to the rail. For several hours, Lessig hud-
dled there, shivering in his wet shirt and trousers as the wind whipped
about his body, until Douglass finally freed him and allowed him to
slink back to his bunk.
Lessig did not appear on deck the next morning, nor indeed did he
report for the next 10 days. Finally a passenger, whose curiosity led him
to the forecastle, found the seaman in his bunk — clearly suffering, as he
had said, from dysentery. The passenger, possessed of more pity than
common sense, gave him a massive dose of castor oil. Lessig died
a few days afterward.
As the voyage progressed. Douglass seemed to advance from mere
sadism to near derangement. When he got into a tiff with a hand called
Papaw, he lost his head. Papaw was a grizzled Italian who spoke no
English. He was also shoeless, and was afflicted with frostbite. One day,
after the captain had beaten him for being too slow at his work, the old
man did not come out on deck. Douglass had him dragged from the
forecastle and brought to him for questioning. But Papaw could not
understand what the mate was saying, nor could he answer in English
anyway. Douglass beat him with his fists until the old man broke away
and ran back to the forecastle.
Douglass followed the Italian to his bunk, pulled him out of it and then
resumed pummeling the man's face and ribs. When his violence was
 95

spent, he let Papaw drop in a quivering heap and stomped back to the
deck. A seaman named Charles Weldon, who carried the old man back to
his bunk, remembered was
a pulp, his eyes were swollen
that his face
and sightless, his head was blood-smeared and his hair was matted.
According to the recollection of another sailor. Waterman— perhaps
stricken with remorse— visited the old man in his bunk, bringing him
wine and water to drink. But he was too late to be of help. An hour
later Papaw was dead.

During these nightmarish days. Birkenshaw. who was the suspected

ringleader of the mutiny, was nowhere to be seen. Some of the crew
suggested to the officers that he had jumped overboard when Waterman
waded into the melee. But Douglass, realizing that few men would
plunge to certain death in the desolation of the South Atlantic, felt sure
that Birkenshaw was hiding somewhere in the ship, and he was deter-
mined to find him. The most likely refuge was the forecastle, but no
sooner had the mate crossed its threshold in search of the offender than
someone blew out the lantern. In the darkness Douglass could sense the
men's hostility toward him and, rather than proceed far enough to let
himself be surrounded, he retreated. A few days later he made a second
attempt — with the same result.
He gave up these forays but continually badgered the hands on deck
for information. Eventually he learned that Birkenshaw was just where
he had suspected. Fearing now to go into the forecastle himself. Doug-
lass sent a teen-age cabin boy to persuade the culprit to come out. The
boy had to crawl under the farthest forward bunk into a dark cubicle that
was normally occupied by nothing but spare lines. He touched some-
thing warm, cried out and scurried back on deck. On his heels came the
bearded and emaciated fugitive.
Since stabbing Douglass, Birkenshaw had spent a month in that black
hole, feeding on handouts brought by friends. But he had finally had
enough and, knowing that Douglass had discovered his whereabouts
anyway, had come out to face his fate. "I will make a full confession." he
said as he approached Douglass. "Don't hurt me."
Douglass, never a forgiving man. was in no mood to be lenient now
"I've got the son of a bitch!" he shouted out to Watermai who u.is ,

pacing by the weather rail of the quarter-deck. At this. Waterman ex-

ploded: "Down on your knees, you son of a bitch. What did you intend
doing with me?" Birkenshaw quickly lost his resolve to confess: instead,
he replied that he had had nothing to do with the mutiny. To Waterman,
who had wrestled the man off Douglass' back at the time of the <ttta< k,

such an answer was intolerable. Raising the club that he carried, he

swung at Birkenshaw. The mutineer lifted his arm to ward off the blow,
and his arm broke as the club hit.
Birkenshaw was consigned to join the rest of the men in si( k l>,i\
where his broken arm was left shai kled and untended .is the Challt
made her unhappy way to San Francisco. From then on. Waterman and
Douglass often had to work the ship almost alone; some da) s the) found
only three out of 27 men turning up tor watch. The se( ond mate u.is
.1

frequently among the missing.

96 Behind the romance, a bitter test of wills

The Challenge reached San Francisco in 108 days. The voyage had
taken 18 days longer than the Griswolds had stipulated, so Waterman
lost his $10,000 bonus. But much worse troubles for him lay ahead.
After he had brought the Challenge up to her pilot off the Farallon
Islands on the morning and come in through the Golden
of October 28,
Gate to anchor off Alcatraz Island, he signaled for a Coast Guard cutter
and turned over the eight men he believed to have been the ringleaders
of the mutiny. Then he summoned the rest of the crew aft and announced
that he intended to have the others involved arrested for mutiny. He
must have known he was only making an idle threat; within hours the
Challenge was surrounded at her anchorage by boatloads of crimps, who
swiftly made off with nearly every crewman not confined to sick bay.
Waterman and his first mate had no such freedom to leave the ship
because both were personally responsible for the cargo. The port was so
crowded two days passed before the Challenge could tie up at the
that
Pacific Street wharf and engage stevedores to unload her. During those
two days, while Waterman, Douglass, and the sick remained aboard, the
men who had gone off with the crimps spread tales of their hellish
voyage through every saloon and waterfront boardinghouse in San Fran-
 97

By the time Waterman had disembarked on October 30, he found a

cisco.
number of boats gathered around the Challenge, every one filled with
glowering seamen. The dock was equally crowded, and as Waterman
came ashore he had to force his way through a milling mob of angry men.
Waterman got through, but Douglass, whose reputation for malice
long antedated this voyage of the Challenge, decided he had better not
step into thecrowd on the pier. He waited until the mob was distracted
by the hustling of the stevedores. Then he caught the attention of Com-
modore T. H. Allen, overseer of the dock workers hired by the Chal-
lenge's owners. Allen rowed a boat around to the far side of the vessel.
Douglass climbed down the rope ladder into it, and Allen bent to the
oars. They had no sooner rounded the Challenge's stern than the} W en
spied by the besieging boatmen. The only escape route was through an
Ships abandoned in favor of the gold
anchored fleet of ships that had been abandoned by their gold-hungry
form a waterborne ghost town in
fields
San Francisco harbor in this 1 853 crews. Allen raced in that direction, and an eerie chase ensued.
daguerreotype. Seamen infected with gold The anchorage was a maze of ghostly hulls that creaked as the) rode at
fever sometimes jumped ship even
their moorings. The thump of the oarlocks and drip of the oars echoed
be/ore anchoring. Some of the ships at
right are working vessels that have and reechoed as Allen and Douglass slid swiftly between the high walls
managed to retain their crews. of decaying wood and rusting iron. Behind them they could hear their

'
I
98 Behind the romance, a bitter test of wills

pursuers baying to one another down the long corridors of the lifeless
fleet.Emerging from the maze, Allen put his back into it, and the boat
shot across the open water and slithered onto the beach at Rincon Point,
Brave women afloat in a man's worl 7
a relatively undeveloped area south of the Embarcadero. Douglass
jumped ashore and ran for the underbrush. A howling pack of boatmen
landed and fanned out after him. They soon were back on the beach.
With a speed and cunning born of desperation, Douglass had got away.
Two days later the California Courier printed a story that carried the
tale beyond the waterfront, arousing the passions of all San Franciscans.
"The ship Challenge has arrived," it said, "and Captain Waterman, her
commander, has also — but where are nine of her crew? And where is he
and his guilty mate? The accounts given of Captain Waterman towards
his men, if true, make him one of the most inhuman monsters of this age.
If they are true, he should be burned alive."

The newspaper's words were tantamount to a call for a lynching party,

and before the day had ended a crowd of some 2,000 discontented sea-
men and other waterfront hangers-on had assembled at the pier in —
time to see the remaining half-dozen sick and injured men moved from
the ChaJJenge on stretchers bound for the Marine Hospital in San Fran-
cisco. Most of the invalids were probably suffering from dysentery and
scurvy that they had had before coming aboard in New York, or that they
might have contracted aboard any ship in 1851. But to the mob they
looked like nothing so much as proof of cruelty on the part of Waterman
and Douglass. Someone struck up a cry for Waterman, and soon the
whole mob was advancing toward California Street and the Alsop Build-
ing, local headquarters of the Griswold agents. Mary Wakeman made three round trips between New
Charles Griswold, who was representing his family's firm in San Fran- York and San Francisco with her captain-husband. Edgar.
cisco, met the mob at the door. The crowd shouted for Waterman. Gris-
wold replied that he was not there. The mob surged back and forth, and
The shy. pretty young woman clinging to her hus-
someone suggested rushing the door. To forestall violence, Griswold
band's arm in the picture above hardly seems suited
invited a committee of six men to search the building. After much shout-
to the brutal life aboard a clipper, yet she spent four
ing and wrangling, a delegation was selected.
years with her skipper-husband on the Adelaide.
Griswold's delaying tactic had given Waterman time to climb to the During mate killed seaman by
that time, the first a
roof and make his escape through the building next door. But inside the knocking him overboard, another sailor murdered the
Griswold office the mob's committee found another captain, John Land, mate, and the murderer was in turn hanged from a
who was scheduled to take the ChaJJenge on the next leg of her voyage, yardarm. Mary Wakeman took all these events with
to China. To the astonishment of Captain Land, a white-haired and mild- two children at sea, with only
fortitude; she also bore

mannered man, the delegation seized him and dragged him outdoors. her husband to act as midwife (the first was chris-
Surrender Bully Waterman, someone shouted, or they would hang Cap- tened Adelaide Seaborn Wakeman).
tain Land — and the crowd took up the cry. Mary Wakeman was not the only woman who
The tumult was suddenly silenced by the pealing of the Monumental found that sailing with a clipper-captain spouse en-
and dangers she never knew ashore. Sal-
tailed rigors
Engine Company's fire bell. In the absence of an actual fire, the engine
lyLow, 19 years old. was spending her honeymoon
company's bell was the rallying signal for the San Francisco Vigilance
aboard the N, B. Palmer in 1852 when a mutinous
—
Committee a group of 600-odd self-appointed keepers of the peace
who, off and on for almost a year, had been dealing out eye-for-an-eye
justice without going through due process of law. Recently the vigilan-
tes, many of whom were acquiring new-found decorum with their bur-

geoning wealth, had been quiescent. In the present instance, they had
remained aloof from the rabble at the wharf. But now, with dire trouble
threatening at the waterfront, they offered their services to the mayor.
 1

99

The mayor, with few police at his disposal, could not control a distur-
bance of this size without them.
Now, upon the clangorous tolling of the fire bell, the vigilantes came
swarming into California Street and took up positions around the mob.
mate in the leg; her husband.
seaman shot the first
Although outnumbered by more than 3 to 1 the vigilantes were armed,
.

Captain Charles Low, subdued and later flogged the and guns made an impressive showing against the outraged but
their
offender. The wife of clipper master Thomas An-
largely weaponless mob. Within a few minutes the throng had obeyed
drews—her first name did not survive in the rec-
the mayor's order to disperse, and Captain John Land walked back into
ords—scarcely slept during a 29-day Cape Horn gale
the Alsop Building.
that smashed the spars of the Red Gauntlet in 1856.
crew and nursed the injured, By time the law had caught up with Douglass. The morning alter
this
She brewed tea for the
loyalty of the most callous seamen. his escape into the scrub of Rincon Point, three men had found him in a
winning the
A woman aboard usually introduced a measure of cart 10 miles outside of San Francisco, sleeping off a drunk: le was on 1

compassion, and often engendered gratitude from the the San Jose road, bound Monterey and a steamer to Panama. Too
for

men. But no other clipper wife was more beloved, or dazed to resist capture the sheriff and a posse arrived. Douglass
when
more courageous, than Mary Ann Patten, who sailed announced with boozy bravado. "I whipped 'em and I'll whip em
from New York in 1856 with her husband, Joshua, again." As he started back to the city at the end of a rope wound around
commander of the Neptune's Car. As the ship reached his arms and shoulders, he bowed with mock courtesy and said, "Well,
the Strait of Le Maire, east of Cape Horn, Captain Pat- gentlemen, if you want to hang me, here's a pretty tree. Do it like men."
was stricken by "a brain fever," losing his sight
ten Sheriff Jack Hays preferred the more legal route, but evidently was gym-
and falling into delirium. Mary, who had just learned
pathetic to the condemned man's other requests: The trip back to San
she was pregnant, took command of the ship.
Francisco took all morning because. Hays explained, "the prisoner in-
She had taught herself navigation on an earlier voy- When the
sisted on taking a drink at every bar along the road." at last
age to Hong Kong, and the crew now depended on her
party reached San Francisco toward noon on November 1, the sherilt
to reckon the vessel's position. As she guided the
clipper through one of the worst storms ever recorded threw the mate into jail to await trial on charges of murder and assault
offCape Horn, the sailors followed her orders without brought by the federal government.
Robert Waterman, meanwhile, remained in hiding until November 1
hesitation. "Each man," reported one observer, "vied
with his fellows in the performance of his duty." when he emerged voluntarily and demanded court action against Bir-

For 50 days she nursed her husband— studying kenshaw and his accomplices. For the next two months San Francisco's
medical texts she could snatch a moment— and
when United States District Court rocked with sensational charges and coun-
continued to command the ship, sleeping in her tercharges that exposed the seamier side of clipper-ship sailing. About
clothes in order to be ready for any emergency on the cases
half a dozen trials followed one after another, but the records of
deck. She brought the Neptune's Car into San Fran- and the details— even some of the results— have been lost.
are sketchy,
cisco on November 15. 1856. "Few persons would
Certainly Waterman and Douglass accused Birkenshaw and the others
of
imagine," wrote one journalist, "that the woman who
mutiny; Birkenshaw and his former comrades in turn accused the cap-
behaved so bravely is a slender New England girl,
tain and his first mate of murder and assault.
scarcely twenty years old."
Four months later Mary Patten gave birth to a son, The juries faced a difficult task, and their job was not made any easier
by the fact that tales from theChalJenge had been many times
magnified
and four months after that her husband, who probably
as they spread through San Francisco bars and were
trumpeted in news-
had advanced tuberculosis, died. Newspapers as far
away as London had extolled her heroism, but she papers. According to one story. Waterman had struck down a helmsman
dismissed all accolades. When the insurers of the forhaving dirty hands; according to another, he was guilty of shooting
Neptune's Car sent her a $1 ,000 reward for saving the the three men who had fallen from the rigging. In still another tale,
.in

vessel, she wrote back, "I fear you have overestimated injured sailor was supposed to have been sewed up in a tarpaulin and
those services. Without the hearty cooperation of the pushed overboard, groaning as he went over the rail
still
crew, the ship could not have arrived safely." and
As the trials progressed, there seemed no doubt th.it Waterman
Douglass had been excessive in their harshness. One foremast hand
even before the attack on Douglass, the men were beaten
testified that,
nearly every day with belaying pins, stic ks and lube, heaven and
I
ropes.
"1 was be.it with lub myself. did not
Another sailor concurred: .i ( 1

disobey orders; the first intimation bad was a r.u k

1
on the bead i

Neither did there seem any doubt that the seamen themselves lett
1 00 Behind the romance, a bitter test of wills

much to be desired. "It was the worst crew I've ever seen," said Water-
man, adding: "I have been to sea for the last 30 years." Even some of the
seamen endorsed that opinion. "We had a miserable crew on board the
ChaJJenge," testified one 40-year veteran; "most were miserable trash."
Birkenshaw was found not guilty. The other accused members of the
crew were also set free (it is not clear from contemporary accounts
whether they ever came to trial). James Douglass was convicted of cruel-
ty to Smiti and of murdering Papaw, the Italian, but he served no sen-
tence. There is no record of what penalty, if any, the court assessed in his
case, but Douglass was shortly released. He did pay a penalty of a person-
al sort, however; he was never signed on by another shipper.

Waterman was found guilty of one charge— the beating of Ions

Smiti — even though the court could not locate a speaker of Finnish to
interpret Smiti's testimony; possibly the jury found the bruised seaman
too pitiable to need words. Despite that guilty verdict, however, the
judge handed down no sentence. The jury failed to reach a verdict on
whether Waterman was guilty of beating Birkenshaw. The district attor-
ney — perhaps because the passengers sided with Waterman, and per-
haps because a crucial witness among the seamen could not be sobered
up long enough to testify— entered a nolle prosequi, a notice that he
would proceed no further with the other charges against the captain.
Waterman went free.
Curiously, it was the Challenge that suffered most from the episode.
Like every other ship, she had a personality and a reputation. She had
earned a bad name on her maiden voyage, and she was fated to carry the
stigma of being a hellship ever after. When Captain Land was making
ready to take her on from San Francisco to Hong Kong, he was able to get
a crew only after the Griswold company had paid a $200 advance to
every seaman for signing on. And the Challenge suffered two more muti-
nies before she foundered and sank off the coast of France in 1876.
When the trials ended. Waterman made good on his resolve to retire.
He sent for his wife and settled in California, where he took part in the
founding of the town of Fairfield about 40 miles from San Fransciso. He
,

built a house with a prow like that of a ship, and devoted most of his time
to raising prize poultry and cattle. But he kept an eye on maritime affairs;
he served as Port Warden and Inspector of Hulls for San Francisco, and
occasionally he lent a hand in salvaging shipwrecks on the shore of the
Golden Gate. To Californians who knew him in his later years, when he
had become a member of the established gentry, he seemed tough rather
than cruel, and many of them had difficulty imagining that he could ever
have personally beaten a seaman for failing to obey orders promptly. But
then, they knew Bob Waterman only ashore, never as a clipper master
confronted with an undisciplined crew at sea.

The ill-fated clipper Challenge her first captain having left

the ship to stand murder that he allegedly committed

trial for a
between New York and San Francisco— sails into the harbor
at Hong Kong, and into more misfortune, under her replacement
skipper. In the crown colony the Royal Marines had to
be summoned to discipline the Challenge's mutinous crew.
 101

CATHEDRA '_ FOR 0OY3

LI ;Y
Chapter 4

Every sea a racecourse, every voyage a trial of speed

 103

n the fall of 1852 Bell's Life, a high-toned British sporting

magazine, called attention to a notice that was appearing in
the business pages of British daily newspapers. "The Ameri-
can Navigation Club," the notice said, "challenges the ship-
builders of Great Britain to a ship race, with cargo on board,
from a port in England to a port in China and back." Specifying that the
vessels were to be not less than 800 nor more than 1 .200 tons— the size of
contemporary clipper ships— the club proposed a bet of £10.000 on the
contest. At the going rate of exchange, that worked out to about
$50,000— roughly equivalent to the cost of building a clipper ship. To
underscore the solemnity of the wager and the good faith of the bettors,
the club members — a dozen or so Boston shipping merchants — en-
gaged prominent bank to act as guarantor and deposited the stake
a
money in it for safekeeping. "The Americans want a match," Bell's
editorialized in urging the contest upon its readers, "and it reflects
somewhat upon our chivalry not to accommodate them."
The challenge had come in response to a number of boasts made by
British shipbuilders and the British press during the previous year. Now
that British shipbuilders had taken inspiration from the American vessel
Oriental and launched two clippers of their own— the Stornoway in
1850 and the Chrysolite in 1851 — they were growing disdainful of their
American counterparts. "We, the British shipowners," said Richard
Green of the famous Blackwall Line at a London banquet in 1851 "have .

at last sat down to play a fair and open game with the Americans, and by

Jove, we'll trump them." When the Chrysolite logged the impressive
time of 80 days on the London-Anyer Lor leg of her maiden voyage to
China later that year, a British newspaper crowed: "The Chrysolite takes
the palm." The Bostonians had heard enough, and now they were daring
Britannia to put money behind her claim to rule the waves.
The bait was not taken. Perhaps the British saw no need to defend their
prowess against the upstart Americans; more likely, they secretly
thought they could not win, for despite all the boasting, neither the
Chrysolite nor the Stornovvay had yet matched the best American runs
from China to London.
But in a real sense the race was on, and had been for three years, ever
since the Sea Witch had inaugurated the reign of the clipper ship as
queen of merchant vessels. And in the decade and a half that followed,
clipper-ship racing continued to display all the excitement of a spectator
sport. Clippersremained the major American and British carriers of
express cargo— whether flour for California, mining tools for the Aus-

Flying (ill smls with a breeze on

the brum, (he /\nrl (foreground) and the
Taeping slice through rolling seas
us they run for London during the I loses!

clipper ( oniest ever, the Great Tea Rom e

of 1866. Though the Ariel and the Taeping
never drew quite this lose, onij
i

about (i mile separated them al the iimsh —

on mi redibl) narrow margin utter u
15,000-nnle passage from China
1 04 Every sea a racecourse, every voyage a trial of speed

tralia gold rush or tea for customers on both sides of the Atlantic— and
more than 400 new ones were built. Every clipper carried with her on
every voyage the hopes — and often the wagers — of builder and mer-
rSAN FRANCISCO.
* 105 -ti."^T£3
\'
Sg

chant, captain and crew, and countless fans among the public that she
8MALLEST AND SHARPEST CLIPPEB UP
would outpace all her rivals. I

As the 1850s wore on, a captain setting out from almost any port at CO.MSTOCKS CLIPPER LINK
more or less the same time as another captain heading the same way
came to count it a matter of honor to bet a new beaver hat that his vessel
*°
^
would beat the other to their destination. His crewmen, meanwhile,
were likely to be betting their counterparts a month's wages on the same
proposition. And laymen who had no connection whatever with seafar-
ing were also at it, wagering sums large and small and keeping abreast of
the clippers' progress from one port to another as the news was flashed Tk« K.mo.. A N*. I inriw CUpptr kklp

around the world by telegraph and reported in the newspapers.

Because clipper ships were so hard-driven and suffered a lot of wear in
the first few years of their lives, most of them made their best runs on
WILD PIGEON 1». J*. MAVXKW, ('oliilimiiilfr,

their first or second voyage. But, as Captain Robert Waterman's unhappy Ik now completing her Londiug at Pier 26 Eaat Biver,
il'im hlf >>>m. »»l> IM iu<>
passage aboard the Challenge had shown in the summer and fall of 1851 IMMEDIATE DIBPATOH.
newness was no guarantee of a glittering performance. In fact, the out-
Thl» Mfnlntvtil lillln tll|ip»f la »»ll«i.o«ti lo lb* lrmJ»,
riM«B III rtttj r,.|««i. intl ulnj of irrj (null njacti;, olll
u lirlnf W—
KIU. QUICK.
Nnlwmu il» Ia>»»t Uaiu.

come of any clipper-ship race, whether with another vessel or against CORNELIUS COMSTOOK,
the record, hung on a combination of factors. Teamwork of the sort that 10(1 WALL STREET, up u tAlm.

N. II. Th »n.i1l|.prr Khlp "aOSMM" *lll fallow b> lh(

had eluded Waterman and his crew was of paramount importance. So l(M »llh Mil; ll.|wlub

was a captain's familiarity with the route and his expertise in applying,
in fair weather and foul, oceanographic and meteorological data. The
A|»u It Uu Lin iibiln
x Hwn CBOfIT * DII1UI

reputation of the shipbuilder or of the ship herself also might make a Clipper owners advertised departures

among stevedores and by handing out colorful four-by-six-inch

difference; a well-touted vessel got preference
sailing cards like these, trumpeting
pilots,and a ship thus favored might squeeze out a victory by leaving or their vessels' virtues to shippers and
arriving on an earlier tide than her rival, or even by having a more prospective passengers. The cards

skillful pilot at the finish. And caprices of nature often played a critical shown here were printed several years
after the Wild Pigeon. Flying Fish and
role; an unexpected storm might bring a chance setback that would
John Gilpin had raced from New York to
doom an otherwise favored ship. San Francisco in 1852. Two of the ships
acquired new captains in the interim.

Racing began informally enough. At first it was simply an individual

matter of builders and captains trying to best the records of their col-
leagues. That competitive spirit — already apparent in 1851, when the
Flying Cloud and the Challenge were among the 45 clipper ships that
sailed for California from the East Coast, all of them trying to stay under
the magic number of 100 days— swept the shipping industry the follow-
ing year. In the 37-day period between October 11 and November 17 of
1852, no fewer than 15 clipper ships set out for San Francisco from New
York and Boston, an average of one every three days. All their captains
had the same objective in mind: to beat the 89-day record set by the
Flying Cloud the year before.
The 1852 competition made history because three of the vessels in-
volved, though they left New York on different days, were remarkably
close to one another for much of the race. Right down to the home
stretch, the glory of winning in elapsed time might have gone to any of
the three. The captains glimpsed one another's ships often enough along
the way to leave them in no doubt as to the closeness of the contest. Each
ship, summed up Matthew Maury in a detailed report on the race in a
 ..

105

-^r— subsequent edition of his Wind and Current Charts, "was driven at her
To Sail on or before Saturduy, Sept. 19. topmost speed, the one almost in hail of the other, for three months, over
a course of fifteen thousand miles in length."
The three clippers were well matched. One was the Wild Pigeon, a
996-ton, 189-foot vessel that on her maiden voyage the year before had
made the run to San Francisco in a respectable 107 days. The second
the Flying Fish also a year old and at 1 .505 tons and 207 feet in length
, ,

the largest; she had sped to San Francisco the previous year in 100 days
and six hours. The third was the John Gilpin. 1.089 tons and 205 feet in
length, and now on her maiden voyage.
All three were commanded by veteran captains: George Putnam on (it- t

GttMen &
Williams' Wild Pigeon, Justin Doane on the John Gilpin, and Edward Nickels on
LINE FOR the Flying Fish. "Like steeds that know their riders." Maury said, "they
were handled with the most exquisite skill and judgment, and in sin h
SAN FRANCrsrO! hands they bounded out upon the glad waters most gracefully." Each
tiik mi'" • i Lirra Mm-
captain, Maury proudly noted, had his Wind and Current Charts and
Sailing Directions; each "had evidently studied them attentively, and
E. C NICKELS, Commander. each one was resolved to make the most of them, and do his best."
TbU fcmrilr riit|> !>*• »»''' " •t'-rl.-t
wli
inngr- |«m»i^ lu The Wild Pigeon was the first away, leaving New York on October 2 1
rWi KrwiK-u.-... (»».nt^ine «)(liiii lu", <U> • i an<l. villi h«r
cmptaJo. »re w> w«*ll kaowa flfcal a* na|) ••4 ''* *»---' Hh
1852. Seventeen days later the John Gilpin dropped her pilot and set
of aaspaan aVtUag their k**-i« oi aaara' eaffj to »•*! 1M1 »wlu*
• lull •'!.
forth, and three days after that the Flying Fish followed.

California Packet Office. 39 Lewii Wharf.

The Wild Pigeon ran into trouble almost at once. Captain Putnam
4gmtf at 5-in /ranmro. jH.««r«. .flint. Jjrito&n A Co-
noted in the ship's log that 13 days out of the first 19 were calm and
stormy in alternation; the Wild Pigeon took 20 days just to reach the
latitude of the West Indies.
SUTTON & CO'S Putnam had no sooner edged the Pigeon past the West Indies than
conditions improved behind him. As a result, wrote Maury, "the Gilpin
and the Fish came booming along, not under better management, in-
deed, but with a better run of luck and fairer courses before them." Both
ships having embarked on the run down the North Atlantic just as the
Pigeon completed it. they covered the same distance in 10 and eight
days, respectively, rapidly gaining on the Pigeon (map, page 109). De-
spite her 17-day head start, the Pigeon crossed the Equator only seven
Sailing regularly and positively on or Itfort the days in the lead — which meant that she was now 10 days behind her
du<j a

Clipper of TUESDAY, 29th APRIL, Inst. rivals on elapsed time.

The Flying Fish, meanwhile, was running so well that she had caught
the/ohn Gilpin, and had left her three days astern. By November 17. only
16 days out of New York, she was 5° north of the Equator.
But now it was her turn for trouble. She was approaching Cape Sao
Roque, Brazil, the headland that juts out into the Atlantic on the eastern-
most bulge of South America. \i< kels had generally followed Maury's
Tin CELtniAT^t> A Kiiurr <"ma I'Lirrn Bbit
1
advice to go out to sea before heading south, in order to be in a position to

RING, master.
GILPIN steer a straight southerly course past the cape. But he had not gone out
quite far enough, and now he was about 200 miles closer to the cist oast <

IS RECEIVING HER CARGO AT PIER 10, E. RIVER.

And 'will positively Sail as above. of South America than Maury 'si h.irts deemed advisable He would still
Shippers will tor In mind !! Jowl Qiltin bu ii.nl.. tha •

voyage Id 93 l»n>», au.l belni: of .mill capacity wtll have had no insurmountable problem if he had heeded Maury's next
probably Oil considerably tifora her day.

SUTTON &. CO^ instruction, which was to "stand boldly on. " meaning bead due south
68 South St.. cor. Wall.
N. B.—The Ship* oflhli LIm Uki
through the doldrums: tie could thus have made use <>t .i land breeze off
Tartlaed day. pre\rnliii^ :i!l !..>
Brazil. But finding the Flying Fish slowed l>\ the alms, "doubt-
I

Uldxtargo in San Francbco, .

I Nil ki'ls
X UI ITT ed the Charts." said Maury, "and< ommitted the mistake of the passa
106 Every sea a racecourse, every voyage a trial of speed

Evidently thinking he would find better winds farther out to sea, Nickels
turned eastward — the very direction he should not have taken. "The
Sailing Directions had cautioned the navigator, again and again, not to
attempt to fan along to the eastward in the equatorial doldrums," Maury
lectured; by so doing the navigator would find himself engaged "in a
fruitless strife with baffling airs, sometimes re-enforced in their weak-
ness by westerly currents."
The move cost Nickels four days of the Flying Fish's valuable time.
When at lasthe worked the ship out of the doldrums, he had made only
1° of southing. Maury, recounting the incident, pointed out that, while

the Flying Fish was sloshing about in the doldrums, a slow merchant-
man had covered the same distance two days faster "by cutting straight
across the doldrums, as the Sailing Directions advised him to do."
The other clipper ships, meanwhile, had followed Maury's charts to
the letter, and had profited thereby. The Pigeon had made up a day of her

earlier loss; she was now eight days in front and proceeding south along
the coast of Brazil. TheGiipin, having crossed the doldrums and round-
ed Cape Sao Roque in seven days, had now come within 37 miles of the
Flying Fish. But, of course, their captains were unaware of their relative
standings in the race. Both ships were in the same latitude but were
invisible over each other's horizon.

The next big challenge facing the three captains was the approach to
Cape Horn, which thrusts a double barrier out into the Atlantic: Cape
San Diego and Staten Island. The navigator has the choice of passing east
around the far side of Staten Island or of cutting through the Strait of Le
Maire, the body of water that runs between Cape San Diego and the
island. The strait offers the shorter route, but it also presents greater
navigational problems — strong currents, crosscurrents and tide rips so
complex that Maury's charts had not yet accounted for all of them. The
Wild Pigeon, 61 days oat of New York
on December 12, was the first to
reach the area. With a good wind off the beam and all sails set, Putnam
chose to take her into the Strait of Le Maire.
He chose wrong. No sooner was the Pigeon in the passage than the
wind died. At the same time, Putnam found himself up against an unfa-
vorable tide. Then, as he directed frantic sail adjustments to keep the
Pigeon from drifting backward, he noticed something odd. There was
another vessel in the strait — close enough for Putnam to make out her
name, the Realm — and she was moving steadily ahead. Putnam de-
duced that her captain had found a current running in the opposite
direction to the tide plaguing thePigeon. His guess was supported by the
fact that between the two vessels was "a race or tide rip that fairly roared
and extended north and south as far as the eye could reach." Clearly, if
he took the Pigeon into the path of theRealm, he could take advantage of
the same current. But getting there presented a problem. The swirling
waters, Putnam noted, "had the appearance of strong tide over rocks."
Putnam decided he had to take the risk. "I bore up and crossed," he
later wrote. While everyone aboard the Wild Pigeon flinched and waited
for the clipper to strike a reef, Putnam went on, "we were shaken violent-
ly, and whirled around in spite of helm and sails by rapid whirlpools."
 .

107

But nothing worse was encountered, and slowly the clipper moved out
of the maelstrom, whereupon "we had a change of tide, and we were
soon up with the Realm."
However, the Pigeon was not past the strait's dangers yet. At about 10
o'clock the following night she was caught in a snow squall. "Lost no
spars, but had some sails blow to pieces." Putnam recorded with skip-
perly understatement; in fact, he had nearly lost his top-hamper. The
men worked doggedly to repair the damage, and the Pigeon pushed on.
By December 14 she was clear of the strait, and at dawn on the follow-
ing day. peering through a driving rain, Putnam could make out the
soaring peak of Cape Horn. Then came a 10-day struggle of alternate-
ly clawing against a recurring westerly gale and wallowing in myster-

ious calms. Not until December 26 did the Pigeon finally round the
Horn and make ready to start on the next leg of the journey, northward
up the west coast of South America.
TheFlying Fish was not far behind. After his setback in the doldrums,
Captain Nickels had made an excellent run south from Cape Sao Roque.
He too opted for the Strait of Le Maire, entering it only five days after the
Pigeon. Evidently choosing a luckier path that avoided the contrary
currents, Nickels got the Fixing Fish through the passage in a single da\
thereby gaining another day on the Pigeon.
At about the same time. Captain Doane of the John Gilpin chose the
outside route. Meeting neither the tides nor the crosscurrents nor the
contrary winds that his two competitors had found in the strait, he
picked up a strong easterly that sent the Gilpin speeding around Staten
Island. He reached the Horn on December 27. A few days later he sighted
the Flying Fish. Aboard both vessels the encounter was an exciting one,
and the captains, hoisting their flags, saluted each other. Captain Nil k-
els bellowed through his speaking trumpet, inviting Captain Doane to
dinner. Doubtless the invitation was tongue in cheek; the pressures of
racing precluded such amenities; in any event the Cape Horn seas were
too rough to send a boat between the ships. Captain Doane— joining in
—
the spirit of the moment bellowed back his polite regrets.

The two vessels lost sight of each other within the day. But both clippers
—
were now neck and neck and not only with each other, but with the
Wild Pigeon. All competitors began the northward run up the west coast
of South America from the same latitude on the same day. The Wild
Pigeon still clung to one small advantage; she was farthest west and
poised for the straightest. shortest run up north to the ( laiifornia coast.
The John Gilpin was in the middle, and the Flying Fish was
closest to the
South American coast. As it turned out. the Pigeon's position did not
help her much; the same prevailing westerlies sent all three clippers
bounding north at the same pace, and on December 30 the Flying Fish
was within sight of the Wild Pigeon as thej reai bed lat. 35 S. The
Pigeon was now 79 days out of New York, the Fish onl\
loming up from astern of the Pigeon's ounter. iaptain Nil kels could
( t (

make out her name with his glass, and he happily recorded the event in
his log. The Pigeon's log noted onlj the appearance of an anonymous
(
Upper ship; the counter of the overtaking vessel was out of Captain
1 08 Every sea a racecourse, every voyage a trial of speed

Putnam's line of vision, and he did not imagine that she could be the
Flying Fish, since she had been scheduled to sail 20 days after he had.

And neither captain knew the precise position of the John Gilpin; she
was, in fact, less than 40 miles astern of them both.
"With fair winds and an open sea," Maury wrote later, "the competi-
tors now had a clear stretch to the equator of two thousand five hundred
miles before them." Thundering up this stretch, theFlying Fish overtook
the Pigeon. Still unable to make out the name of the rival ship, Captain
Putnam set he had in an attempt to catch up with her. He did
every sail

not narrow the gap, but he prevented theFlying Fish from widening it.
For 14 days the two big clippers sliced northward in sight of each other,
both bearing straining pyramids of canvas and thrusting their sharp
bows through the sparkling green Pacific. Aboard each ship the crew-
men alternately squinted across the bright sea at the distant competitor,
and then apprehensively watched the groaning spars and iron-hard sails
above; the captain, one leg bent to the canting quarter-deck, stood at the
weather rail, periodically ordering the first mate to trim a yard or bear up
a point. The John Gilpin, meanwhile, was still out of sight; Captain
Doane had headed off to the west, evidently hoping to find even more
wind by going farther out into the Pacific.
When the two leaders reached the Equator on January 13, theFlying
Fish was still ahead by 25 miles. However, the Wild Pigeon had moved
40 miles eastward, toward the South American coast. Captain Putnam,
while mindful of Maury's charts, was applying to them some reasoning
of his own. The charts showed that the prevailing winds just above the
Equator in the winter season were strong northeast trades. It seemed to
Putnam that by working in close to the land he would be able to get the
most advantage from them; as he ran northwest toward California, he
—
would have them abeam of the ship or even off his starboard quarter,
the most efficient angle of his square-rigged clipper. Meanwhile, his
rival, on a more northerly heading in order to lay a line for San Francisco,

would be forced to point up into the same winds— a difficult bearing for
a square-rigger. Not only would the Pigeon have the best slant of wind,
she would also be closer to the California coast when the northeast trades
gave way to the variable winds off San Francisco, and thus better able to
reach into port quickly.
Putnam's idea was perfectly valid, and he had experience as well as
Maury's charts to guide him. When he had sailed the Pigeon to San
Francisco the previous year, he had brought her across the Equator at the
same longitude on this trip, and had enjoyed a highly satisfactory run
as
of only 1 7 days from the Line to the Farallon Islands off the Golden Gate.
But as luck had failed Putnam on the run down the North Atlantic at the
outset of this passage, so it failed him now in the Pacific. The Wild
Pigeon had no sooner crossed the Equator than she stalled in light airs.

Captain Putnam waited in vain for the northeast trades to appear. For a
week they did not come.
Both the John Gilpin and the Flying Fish were having better luck.
Captain Doane's westward gamble paid off. The John Gilpin crossed the
Equator on January 15, two days after the two leaders, and then, deep in
the Pacific, found a strong northerly on which she dashed to San Fran-
 109

A long, close run for the victor's laurels

-r*

» San francisco
New York*--
J'lN

IVIIJ I
I

PACIFIC OCEAN
-20UA>S

40 DAYS

ATLANTIC i >

40 DAYS

During (he epic three-clipper race to cisco in only 15 days. She arrived there January 31. the first of the fall
San Francisco in 1852-1853, the Flying Fish season's 15 starters to show up. having made the run in the remarkable
left New York last but made the fastest
time of 93 days and 20 hours.
run down the Atlantic, as the elapsed-time
points on this chart indicate. She and But a day later the Flying Fish showed up. topping that score with em
the Wild Pigeon both doubled Cape Horn elapsed time of 92 days and four hours. Crossing the Equator onl\ 40
by way oftlfe Strait of Le Maire. while
miles westward of the Wild Pigeon. Captain Nickels had found a belt <>l
the John Gilpin chose the longer but safer
route around Staten Island (inset). the very northeast trade winds that had eluded Captain Putnam I loser to
shore, and had gone thrashing Golden Gate in 19 days. On
up to the
February 7. six days behind the Flying Fish, the Wild I'nj.rt)!) arrived—
after a total passage of 1 1H days.
The Wild Pigeon had been roundly trounced. "Could she have imag-
ined." wrote Maury, "that in consequence of this difference ot Port)

miles in the crossing of the equator, and of the two hours time behind
her competitor, she would fall into <i wind which would enable
streak of
the Fish to lead her into port one whole week? Certainl) it was nothing
but what s.olors ( all ,i streak <>t ill lu< k that ould have made six h a
<
110 Every sea a racecourse, every voyage a trial of speed

difference." Gamblers likewise, Maury might have added. No tally sur-

vives to attest to the bets that were made, but there doubt that
is little

many a bundle of money changed hands. And for the fans waiting by the
dockyards and in the telegraph offices, the weeks that followed re-
mained exciting as the other 12 of the 15 starters came in one by one.
As for Captain Nickels, he may well have rued the fact that, had he not
lost four days by flouting Maury's advice in the doldrums, he might have

beaten the 89-day record of the Flying CJoud. Even so. he made
the best run of the year.
The race brought particular satisfaction to Maury, since it was the first
occasion on which his theories had been put to the test by so many
vessels sailing the same course at more or less the same time. "Am I far

wrong," he asked rhetorically, "when I say that the present state of our
knowledge with regard geography of the sea had enabled
to the physical
the navigator to blaze his way among the winds and currents of the sea,
and so mark his path that others, using his signs as fingerboards, may
follow in the same track?"

If the virtues of the charts vindicated Maury, the power and speed of the
ships themselves reflected on the builders. Altogether the average
elapsed time of the 15 ships worked out to 112 days — little more than
half the average time of ordinary sailing ships. To the builders, who had
been producing clipper ships that were increasingly longer, sleeker and
taller of mast, the constantly improving performances seemed to suggest

that there was no and tonnage could make

limit to the marvels that size
possible. No wonder, went right on building more and
then, that they
more of these dazzling craft, in ever more impressive dimensions. Only
16 clipper ships were produced in 1850. but 44 were built in 1851 and
61 in 1852, and yet another 125 were to come down the ways in 1853.
No shipbuilder worked harder to keep the clippers exceeding their
own records than Donald McKay — the man who, as builder of this year's
winner, theFlying Fish, as well as of the celebrated Flying Cloud and the
Westward Ho {pages 10-11), had more record holders to his credit than
anyone else. The race of 1852 was hardly over before McKay was plan-
ning the largest merchant clipper ship that the world had ever seen
and, he hoped, the fastest. Some of his friends protested that the ship
would bankrupt him before she was finished. "Let friends and foes talk,"
McKay retorted; "I'll work" — and he mortgaged everything he had to
raise $300,000 to build his dream vessel.
When finished, she had consumed 1.5 million feet of longleaf yellow
pine, 2,056 tons of white oak, 336 tons of iron and 56 tons of copper
twice as much material as a United States Navy three-decker warship. At
4,555 tons, she was more than twice the size of any clipper ship that had
gone before her. She was as long — 335 feet — as a Boston city block. Her
mainmast was 44 inches in diameter and soared to a height of 200 feet, as
high as one of the new 20-story buildings going up in Manhattan. The
first vessel ever to carry more than three masts, she was rigged with four,

and they supported 15,653 square yards of canvas, enough to cover a

mile of the Boston Post Road.
Sometime before she reached completion, McKay happened to hear
 a

Ill

Seven years after a fire gutted her in the popular actress Fanny Kemble read a new poem by Henry Wads-
1853 on the eve of her maiden voyage, the
worth Longfellow called "The Building of the Ship*' that metaphorically
rebuilt Great Republic is unloaded at
a San Francisco pier. To save on running
celebrated the rise of the young United States as a great republic. Ac-
expenses, her sail plan had been cording to a grandson, the experience so profoundly moved McKay that
so drastically reduced that she could be it inspired the name for the vessel he had under construction. Discarding
managed by a crew half the size of her
original 130-man complement. Yet this cut-
the recent fashion for names suggesting airy fleetness. he called his new
down giant among clippers still won masterpiece the Great Republic.
rapturous praise. One admirer wrote: "She The public shared McKay's excitement. October 4. 1853. her launch-
can scarcely find a sea wide enough, with
ing date, was declared a Massachusetts holiday.Whole schools arrived
belts of wind broad enough for the full
display of her qualities and capabilities." in chartered hayracks. Families came from Cape Ann and as far away as
Cape Cod in horse-drawn carriages and ox-drawn carts. The harbor was
jammed with sloops, yachts and small boats. Cannon boomed, church
bells pealed and 50.000 people cheered as the Gargantuan new vessel
was christened and slipped down the ways into Boston harbor. Mc ka\
had planned to have the rite performed in the traditional wa\ with .

champagne. But in a prelaunch celebration the night before, his eldest

son and some yard foremen had consumed all the champagne. So. im-

provising at moment, McKay used drinking water instead—

the last
fact that a number of Boston ladies took as a nod to the temperance
movement. McKay made no attempt to disabuse them of this notion.
112 Every sea a racecourse, every voyage a trial of speed

The ceremonies over, the Great Republic was towed to New York,
where Donald McKay's brother Lauchlan supervised the installation of
her masts, yards and rigging. In New York she was as much a cynosure as A costly war for American clippers
in Boston; for the next two months, while she lay at an East River pier at
the foot of Dover Street, crowds flocked to admire her — among them the During the Civil War the American clipper-ship busi-
Governor and members of the New York State Legislature, who made the —
ness already hurt by a devastating economic slump
in the late 1850s and by competition from steam-
150-mile trip down from Albany just for the purpose.
By the day after Christmas, the work was completed. The Great Repub-
ships — received a final, mortal blow from a handful
of Confederate cruisers. The most successful of these
lic's massive sails were bent on, and her 6,000-ton hold was filled with a
wooden steamers were built in England, and— be-
cargo of wheat for Liverpool, whither she was to sail within the week.
cause of British dependence on Confederate cotton-
Tragedy struck sometime toward midnight on December 26. A fire all were covertly supported in their raids by the Brit-
started at the Novelty Bakery on nearby Front Street. A gale was blowing, ish government, despite its avowed neutrality.
and flying sparks from the bakery ignited the Great Republic's sails. By The speedy cruisers gave chase to every merchant-
the time Lauchlan McKay had been roused and had rushed to the pier, he man they sighted, fired a shot across the ship's bow
found a holocaust. The Great Republic was burning aloft like a forest and then sent a boatload of armed men swarming
fire, and nearly a dozen other ships nearby were ablaze as well. The fire aboard. If the vessel proved to be registered abroad,

department was already in action, but its hoses could not send water any the boarding party quickly apologized and departed.

higher than the lowest of the Great Republic's lofty yardarms, and the If the ship was American, the boarders took the crew
prisoner, looted the prize, then put a torch to it. "The
water sloshed about the deck instead. A few brave volunteers went
flames could be heard roaring like the fires of a hun-
aboard to chop down the burning masts, but to no avail; the rain of
dred furnaces in full blast," wrote one Confederate
flaming canvas and burning blocks drove everyone back to the pier.
captain after a successful mission.
By now the whole waterfront was in jeopardy, and the only recourse Although the raiders actually destroyed only 14
was to move the fire itself. So the Great Republic's mooring lines were clippers among the 150 or so merchant ships they
cast off and a tug pulled her into the river. There she sat and burned for burned, the indirect effects were disastrous. Panic.
two days. By that time the water that had missed the rigging aloft had
seeped below to the hold, where it soaked the grain, which swelled and
ruptured the seams of the hull. Then the yardarms, still burning, gave
way and fell hissing into the river; the Great Republic groaned, lurched
and sank, settling in the mud of New York Harbor.
For Donald McKay, the burning of the Great Republic was a shattering
blow, and he had no heart for beginning all over again to re-create her. So
he signed over the waterlogged hull to the insurer, recouped his full
financial investment and — presumably on the theory that bigness for its
own sake had gone as far as it could go — turned his attention to ships of
more modest design. In the remaining 27 years of his life, he was to build
another 38 vessels; among them, besides more clippers, were barks,
schooners, down-easters (pages 164-171) and gunboats for the United
States Navy. Every one was to prove strong, swift and durable. But they
would set few racing records.
The underwriters of the Great Republic, meanwhile, found a buyer in
the firm of A. A. Low & Bro., which had her rebuilt under the supervision
of Captain Nathaniel Palmer, the designer of the Houqua. He had her
hull made 1,200 tons smaller, and cut down her rigging, keeping her
four masts but reducing their height by one quarter and shortening the
yards proportionately. Even then she remained the largest merchantman
afloat. When, on March 15, 1855, she arrived in London, her first port of

call on her maiden voyage, she had to anchor in the middle of the
Thames because no pier had enough water alongside to take her.
Of more concern to her new owner and all other clipper-ship admirers
was her speed. Would her great hull and towering rigging enable her to
 113

outrace the 300 clipper ships now afloat? The Great Republic spent the
next 17 years sailing most of the seven seas. Once, in 1857. she made a
record 16-day run from New
York to the Equator. In the same year she
equaled theFlying Fish's 92-day run to San Francisco; she was thus tied
fanned by bold Confederate forays into the very for fourth place on that run, following the famous Flying Cloud (twice at
mouth of New York Harbor, swept through Union
89 days) and two other clippers, the Andrew Jackson and the Sword
shipping circles. Premiums for war-risk insurance
Fish, which had logged 89 and 90 days, respectively. In sum. theCnnt
rose out of all proportion to actual losses, and ships
RepubJic proved to be a swift but not an outstanding clipper ship. Some
with neutral flags soon wrested away much of the
of her champions held that if she had sailed with her original hull and
business that had supported United States vessels.
Desperate American owners rushed to sell their ships rigging she would surely have exceeded the speed of any ship afloat. Hut

abroad— usually at discount prices. By 1865 more since her original specifications were never put to the test, that possibil-
than 1,600 vessels, including virtually all of the ity remained hypothetical.

American merchant fleet's proudhad been

clippers,
transferred to foreign owners. The remainder of the young United States slid into a severe economic depression.
In 1857 the
fleet consisted primarily of obsolescent tubs. Nowhere was it more evident than in maritime affairs. The tonnage of
Seven years after the War. an international tribunal American cargo sold in foreign countries fell from 65,000 in 181
ordered Britain to pay reparations of $15.5 million for 42.000 in 1856; by 1860 it had plunged to 17.000 tons, a drop of 75 per
its complicity with the Confederate raiders— a paltry
cent in just five years. Traffic between American ports also slowed. The
price for the merchant-shipping gains the British had
was now producing its own wheat, tools and cloth-
territory of California
won American expense. The United States mer-
at
ing, and thus was no longer completely dependent on imports from tin-
chant fleet did not recover until after World War I.

East Coast. And by 1860 the United States had 30.000 miles of railroad
tracks, which were carrying much of the nation's freight. Shipbuilding
Dense smoke pours from the doomed Union clipper
Harvey Birch as raiders from the Confederate side-wheeler
came to a near standstill.

Nashville row away with the clipper's captured crew. In England, meanwhile, clipper-ship construction had expanded. B\
1860 the Chrysolite and the Stornoway had been followed by 18 sister
ships.As their own fleet of clippers grew. British merchants no longer
chartered American clippers to bring their tea from China— thus adding
to the woes American shipowners. In 1860 the new nation suffered
of
anothei blow — civil
war. which immobilized her maritime trade for
another four years. By the time the War had ended. Britain's primac \ in
clipper building and the China trade was unassailable.
By comparison with their American forerunners. British clippers were
diminutive, typically about 1.000 tons — as compared with 2.000 tons
for an average American clipper in the late 1850s. They had less curva-
ture from bow to stern, lower bulwarks and plumper waists. And though
they never achieved such astonishing bursts of speed as the 22 knots the
Sovereign of the Seas made on some stretches, the British clippers were
considerably better in light winds. Averaging about 15 Vis knots, they
could be counted on to make the run home from China in a bout 1 10 days
If the British had been reluctant suitors of theclippership at first, the)
now conducted a love affair as ardent as the Americans' had been. No
other vessel commanded such devotion from builders and captains, and
noneso caught the tain J
of merchants and the public The tea inert bants

devised an incentive system that did much to ensure th.it < Uppers per-
formed up to their potential; they offered an annual premium oi tO
shillings per ton to the owner of the first vessel to do< k with the season's
new tea. On a million-pound cargo oi tea, the total premium amounted to

about £2.500. The shipowners passed £100 oi that on to their captains,

who normally earned only about twice tb.it tnui h ea< h year.
Predictably, British captains went to almost an) length to win, and
114 Every sea a racecourse, every voyage a trial of speed
 —

115

stories about the tricks they played on one another provided many a
sailor's yarn. According to one tale, Captain John Care of the clipper Lord
Macaulay was approaching a narrow passage in the Java Sea at sundown
when he sighted the Elizabeth Nicholson, a new ship in the hands of a
novice commander, coming up astern. Captain Care instantly began to
shorten sail as if he intended to lay to for the night; he was pleased to see
that the crew of the Elizabeth Nicholson began to do the same. His own
crew, in on the plan he had in mind, cooperated by dallying over the
Lord Macaulay's sails until the Elizabeth Nicholson drew near enough
for the captain's voice to be heard. Then Captain Care bellowed loudly:
"Stand by and let go the anchor." Again his own crew cooperatively
fumbled while they waited to hear the splash of the Nicholson 's anchor,
and then— undetected in the darkness that had now fallen— they set
their sails and slipped through the channel. By morning, when the Eliza-
beth Nicholson's gullible captain was up and about, the Lord Macau Jay
had stolen a lead of 70 miles.
Another skipper, Captain Jacob D. Whitmore of the Sea Serpent,
hatched an even more devious scheme. After bringing his clipper from
China as far as Plymouth, he disembarked there, boarded a train for
London and declared his ship as having arrived while he left to his —
officers and crew the job of actually bringing her up the Thames. His
ingenuity came to nought: Two other clippers, the Fiery Cross and the
Ellen Rodger, had already docked legitimately.
Those two pranks were harmless enough, but occasionally a racing
trick might lead Anthony Enright, who commanded
to disaster. Captain
the Chrysolite for a good many years, was once on a passage home from
China when, off the island of Banca in the China Sea, he came up along-
side the American clipperMemnon. The master of the Memnon, aChina-
trade neophyte named Joseph Gordon, hailed the Chrysolite and in-
quired of Captain Enright if he intended to go across Macclesfield Bank
that night. The bank was a shortcut for a captain who knew the way
but — because and rocky islands — was a perilous route for
of its reefs
one who did not. While the two captains were conferring, the passengers
aboard the Chrysolite (among whom were a party of Americans) began
placing bets on which of the two ships would reach London first. Cap-
tain Enright, who made a point of abstaining from gambling on the
ground that it was sinful, declined to join in the passengers' wagering
To Captain Gordon's question
but yielded to temptation of another kind.
he replied that indeed he was going through Macclesfield Bank, know-
ing full well that Captain Gordon would try to follow and that his inex-
perience was likely to get him into trouble.

Decked out in theirSunday best, the key craftsmen and clerks

of Alexander Hall and Sons, renowned Aberdeen shipbuilders,
assemble for an 1862 portrait with chief designer William
Hall (back row, fourth from right) and his brother James (bri( k

row, second from right], the shipyard manager. Twenty-

three years earlier, the talented Hall brothers had introduced an
extremely raked, clipper-like boiv on their ships, and the]
held the lead in the construction of British clippers for decades.
 116 Every sea a racecourse, every voyage a trial of speed

Night fell, a squall came up and, before long, both ships were obscured
in the darkness and the rain. But the Chrysolite sailed steadily on, with
Captain Enright himself at the wheel, while theMemnon went aground
on a sharp coral reef, tearing a hole in her hull. In vain the Memnon's
crewmen tried to bail her out, but the hole was too big. By daylight a
horde of Malay pirates had swarmed aboard and stripped the ship of
everything valuable, and Captain Gordon and his crew had fled in three
boats, lucky to escape with their lives. Captain Enright was by this time
speeding the Chrysolite toward England, with nary a thought for his
luckless fellow captain.
In falling victim to both piracy and the reefs. Captain Gordon had been
initiated into two of the commonest hazards of the China trade. Pirates
lurked everywhere on the shores of the China Sea, swarming out in
innocent-looking fishing boats to prey upon the rich cargo-laden vessels
of the Western traders. In the year 1 853 nearly 700 ships were plundered
in the Hong Kong area alone. Clipper ships went armed with as many as
four guns, but they were usually useless; more often than not, the pirates
descended when a ship's crewmen were preoccupied with an accident
such as the one that had befallen Captain Gordon.
As for reefs and shoals, they abounded in the China Sea. and were
poorly mapped: China's waters had not yet been charted by Maury. To
compound the navigational problems, most of the tea ports lay miles
upriver. The worst of all the rivers was the Min, which cut a twisting 25-
mile course through tall canyons to the port of Foochow. In some places
it was so narrow that, according to old China hands, monkeys jumped

—
across it getting their tails tangled in the clippers' upper rigging. And
almost everywhere it was filled with swift currents that went by the
A diagram drawn by a navaJ architect
onomatopoeic name of chow-chow in Chinese. The chow-chow currents in the 1860s shows how ships in the tea
could dash the vessel of an unwary skipper onto any of hundreds of trade stuffed chests into almost every
cubic inch of their holds, packing oddly
hidden sandbanks and rocky shores.
shaped spaces with half chests and
To negotiate the rivers, the clipper-ship captains had to rely on pilots, small so-called catty boxes. The Chinese
who left a lot to be desired. Most of them were European expatriates, laborers who loaded the ships were so
probably former seamen who found life in the China ports more conge- skilled, noted one captain, that the surface
of the hold looked "like a splendid
nial than life aboard a hard-working ship. Many had a weakness for
deck, flush from stem to stern."
alcohol. Perhaps the most notorious drunk among them was a fellow
named Hughie Sutherland. When a clipper captain found Hughie drink-
ing milk one morning, he shook his head and said: "Too late, Hughie, too
late." But Hughie was a valuable ally when on his mettle; it was said he
could save a racing ship as much as a day in the run down the Min.
By 1860 Foochow had replaced Canton as the major tea port, largely
because the tea that grew in the surrounding province of Fukien was
harvested in May and June, two months earlier than anywhere else in
China. Thus clippers sailing from Foochow not only had a head start for
England but avoided the worst of the southwest monsoons, which buf-
feted the China Sea throughout July and August.
Few marinas in the world were more colorful than Foochow's Pagoda
Anchorage, a harbor shaped like a clover leaf and nestled below verdant
hillsides studded with temples. In the 1860s a dozen and more tall
clippers gathered there every spring to wait for the year's harvest, riding
their anchors in the bay. their slim spars precisely parallel, their mast-

<^
 117

heads stabbing the sky and their brightwork flashing in the sun. By late
May sampans were bringing the tea downstream from the plantations
that lined the banks for 100 miles upriver. As soon as they arrived,
armies of coolies transferred the tea chests from the sampans to the
clippers bound for London.
Once the loading began, it went on at a feverish pace for two or three
days around the clock, with no rest on Sundays —
and no loafing on the
job. Some of the captains stationed their ships' boys in the hold, armed
with bamboo poles to smack any loader tempted to dawdle.
Loading a clipper was a fine art. Tea was such a light cargo that a great
deal of ballast had to be carried to keep the slender vessel steady. At the
bottom of the hold went about 100 tons of kentledge— scrap iron culled
from the foundries of England's industrial cities. Depending on the size
of the clipper and the amount of the tea cargo, as much as 200 tons of
beach pebbles might be stowed above the kentledge for further ballast.
Both ballast and cargo had to be packed tight to keep them from shifting
at sea; the trim of the ship was vital to her speed, and an inch too much or
too little at bow slow her down by a knot.
or stern could
A floor of planking was laid over the ballast, and then came the tea, in
—
straw-covered wooden chests and half chests the latter an innovation
of recent years, when it was realized that more half chests could be
packed into nooks and crannies than the older full chests. The inferior
teaswere placed on the bottom layers, and the better teas on top, away
from souring bilge water if the ship should leak. Every chest was ham-
mered into place so that not a hair's breadth of space remained between
them. More stone and pebble were forced in where the straightedged
chests met the curved hull.
When the last chest was in place, a blanket of split bamboo and canvas
was any sea water sloshing into the
laid over the top layer, canted so that
hold would drain along the sides of the hull. The hatches were closed
and sealed, and the clipper's anchor clanked aboard. Her topsails were
loosed, and a steam tug towed her downriver through the high gorges for
the open sea and the race to London.

Of all the races that took place in the decade and a half when clipper
ships were in their prime, none caused such a stir as the one that English-
men were to remember as the Great Tea Race of 1866. An unprecedented
16 clippers assembled at the Pagoda Anchorage that year to vie for the
10-shilling-per-ton premium promised the winner. Of the 16 ships, five
were stellar performers.
One was the Serica, a 708-ton vessel launched in 1863 and command-
ed by Captain George Innes. Another was the 767-ton Taeping, under
Captain Donald McKinnon; on her maiden voyage the preceding year,
she had come in second. Still another contender was the Fiery Cross, an
888-ton vessel that under her present commander. Captain Richard Rob-
inson, had won four out of the five races since 1861. And there was the
815-ton Taitsing, noted for her exquisite teak and mahogany woodwork
throughout, and under Captain Daniel Nutsford the object of much at-

tention because she was on her maiden voyage. Rounding out the favor-
ites was the Ariel, a slender beauty of 853 tons, with so much brass that
118 Every sea a racecourse, every voyage a trial of speed

four men had to polish it from 6 a.m. till 6 p.m. daily to keep it shining
properly. She was one year old and had already proved a smart sailer. "I
could trust her like a thing alive," Captain John Keay was to write of her.
She was also the odds-on favorite with the public.
The new tea began coming downriver to the Pagoda Anchorage on
Thursday, May 24, and by Sunday the 27th hundreds of lighters crowd-
ed the harbor, 16 of them clustered around the Ariel. All that day and
through the night the clippers loaded, and by 2 p.m. on Monday the
Ariel was ready, with 1,230,900 pounds of tea aboard.
Three hours after the last tea chest had been thumped into place, the
Ariel raised anchor and the steam tug Island Queen took her towline to
lead her down the twisting course of the Min River. She was first off the
mark, but she scarcely had time to relish the fact before she suffered a
tragicomic mishap. The paddler Island Queen was one of the clumsiest
in China; one observer pronounced her "no good except in still water."
Sure enough, the Island Queen got caught in a chow-chow current, and
while all aboard the Ariel watched in grim frustration the Fiery Cross,
towed by a swifter tug, slipped past and took the lead. Then theAriel lost
more precious time when a boat capsized while returning the pilot and
 r

119

his aides to the Island Queen; the latter's crew took so long to save the
floundering men that the Ariel had to signal for another pilot boat to
come to their rescue. When Queen finally cast the Ariel
the tug Island
loose at the river mouth onmorning of Wednesday, May 30, theFiery
the
Cross was already hull down on the China Sea; the Taeping and the
Serica had caught up with the Ariel, and the Taitsing was making her
way downriver not far behind. The remaining 1 1 vessels were to sail one
at a time over the next weeks, but none would worry the five leaders.

Of the whole 15,000-mile regatta, the first leg— the 2,500-mile stretch
from the mouth of the Min to the Sunda Strait — was the most difficult.
The southwest monsoon was beginning to blow up, alternating calms
and squalls as the wind veered erratically and unpredictably from one
point of the compass to another.
Aboard the Ariel, Captain Keay found that his vessel was badly out of
trim — down at the bow. He ordered 30 fathoms of anchor chain dragged
aft to shift the weight to the stern. When that proved insufficient to make
her right, he shifted 16 chests and 23 half chests out of the hold and into
his cabin. Still not satisfied, he instructed the ship's carpenter to build a

— large box and fill it with kentledge, spare anchors and coal; this would
serve as portable ballast that could be moved about the ship to help keep
her in trim as she changed from one tack to another.
Captain Keay lost sight of his four competitors on June 1, soon after
they entered upon the broad China Sea. The Taeping came back into
view nine days later, and the next day Captain Keay noted in his log:
"Taeping about four miles on our lee quarter." Captain McKinnon sig-
naled across a friendly message that the Taeping had passed the Fiery
Cross two days earlier; so Keay recorded, "We are thus in all probability
the headmost ship so far."
With all studding sails set, the Ariel raced south and reached the
Sunda Strait 21 days out of Foochow. At Anyer Lor Captain Keay paused
only long enough to send up flags to signal his position to authorities
Riding so high that their copper huJJ ashore; then he dashed on without even waiting to learn that he was not
sheathing gJints above the placid water,
the leader after all: TheFiery Cross had passed through the strait the day
empty clippers gather at the Pagoda
Anchorage on China's Min River to load before. On the other side of the strait, a steady breeze came from the east-
up for the 1866 tea race back to southeast. Every sail went up, and the Ariel flew out across the Indian
London. The ships carried general cargo Ocean. The Taeping, the Serica and the Taitsing passed through the
from England to Shanghai or Hong
strait during the next five days, and the news was duly cabled from Java
Kong during the winter and then sailed in
ballast to this anchorage below to a rapt public in England.
Foochow, gathering early in May to load Crossing the Indian Ocean, the five clippers bent on all canvas, leaned
the ar&a 's first tea harvest of the year.
theirnarrow hulls into the green seas and ran westward for Mauritius,
their nextmark before heading south to round the Cape of Good Hope. It
was wet work. Keay's log reported on June 25: "Shipping water over all
these two days past." It was also taxing to the ships; two of the Ariel's
topmasts broke under the strain. Like any driving captain, Keay had
them fixed on the run, and the Ariel pressed on with little loss of time.
This was usually the fastest stretch for China clippers, since they rode
steady and strong southeast trade winds. It was also the most exhilarat-
ing part of the passage, with the spray flashing under the tropical sun
and the heady excitement of sweeping by ordinary merchantmen. One
day the men aboard the Ariel saw the East Indiaman City of Bombay, also
120 Every sea a racecourse, every voyage a trial of speed

en route to London, come into view ahead at noon; four hours later the

Ariel had left her far astern.

But out of sight of the rival clippers, Keay and his crew had only their
knowledge of past records by which to estimate their standing in the
race, and they were never free of the anxious concern that, even if they
were ahead of the record, any of their competitors might be farther ahead
yet. Indeed, when the Ariel was off Mauritius by July 1, only 11 days

from Java, Captain Keay had no way of knowing that she was a day
behind the Fiery Cross. Nevertheless, when on August 4 she reached the
Equator, she crossed the Line simultaneously with the Fiery Cross — and
with the Taeping. Both ships were invisible over the horizon. The race
was now a three-way tie.
The clippers raced on for another month, passing up the coast of
Africa, through the Azores, into the Bay of Biscay and on to the English
Channel. In the first week of September came a breathtaking finish.
At 1:30 a.m. on September 5, Captain Keay sighted Bishop and St.
Agnes Lights on the south coast of England. The night was stormy,
slowing down the Ariel, but at dawn the sky cleared and a strong wind
came out of the west-southwest. Tasting the prize bone in his teeth, Keay
set all possible sail and sent theAriel skimming up the English Channel.
Before the day was over he saw one of his rivals off his starboard quarter.
She was too far away for him to read her name, but her tall sails and the
easy grace with which she was gliding through the water marked her
clearly as a tea clipper. Keay said afterward, "Instinct told me that it was
the Taeping." It was.
Throughout the day of September 5, while sailors aboard other vessels
in the Channel and spectators along the English coast looked on in
fascination, the two clippers fought out the last leg of the journey. Both
captains sent up every sail in their ships' lockers. The two towering
clouds of canvas chased each other through the flashing chop of the
Channel, with the wind-swept spray flying to the yardarms. Slicing
ahead at 14 knots, theAriel continued to hold the lead, but the Taeping
gained on her hour by hour.
At sunset the two clippers were passing the Isle of Wight. On through
the dark night they plunged, all sails straining in ghostly white clouds
above them and white bow spray regularly blotting out the navigation
lights along the coast. At midnight Captain Keay saw Beachy Head; by
3 a.m. he could make out Dungeness Light, where the clippers would
take on their pilots. By 4 a.m. theAriel had reached that point, and Keay
took in some of his sail and hove to. Then he fired a series of rockets to
signal for a pilot. The sky exploded above him and a profusion of colors
showered down from the heavens into the water.
For Keay and his crewmen, an anxious hour followed while they
waited on deck, their shadows dancing as the flares continued to burst in
the air and fizzle in the dark sea. As they watched, the Taeping came
heaving up. She too sent flare rockets arcing into the air. But instead of
shortening sail, she continued to move steadily on in the direction
of Dungeness harbor.
Keay guessed that Captain McKinnon was taking the Taeping closer to
Dungeness in a bid to pick up the first pilot to put out from the harbor.
 —

121

Inasmuch as the Ariel Dungeness first, Keay had no

had arrived off
intention of letting McKinnon Taeping in ahead of him. Swiftly
slip the
appraising the situation, he called for more sail and commanded the
helmsman to steer northeastward, a maneuver that would take the Ariel
straight across the Taeping's bow and put her closer to the harbor. Now it
was McKinnon's turn to take alarm aboard the Taeping. Watching the
silent apparition bearing down on his ship and threatening to ram, he
knew he had no choice but to head up into the wind and slow down
to avoid a collision.
The Ariel glided past the Taeping — just in time to meet the first of two
cutters now pitching out from the harbor. A moment later the pilot
scrambled aboard, saluted Captain Keay and congratulated him on being
the first one in from China.
"We have not room to boast yet," Keay replied, and set all plain sail
the basic array of canvas carried in ordinary weather — as the Ariel made
ready to moveThey indeed had no room to boast, for the other cutter
on.
had already reached the Taeping, and soon it was apparent that McKin-
non had set more than plain sail; the Taeping had studding sails flutter-
ing on the starboard side — and she was gaining on the Ariel. As Keay
watched McKinnon close the distance between the two ships to a mile,
he prepared to set his studding sails too. Then he changed his mind.
When the clippers ran around the tip of Kent, as they were soon to do. the
course would change from east to north, and Keay calculated that the
Taeping's studding sails would then lose their wind. They did. and
moments later Keay could see the men of McKinnon's crew try to set
them on the port, or windward, side. But the angle was too close; the
sails did not draw, and shortly they came fluttering down. The Ariel
maintained her slim lead.
Next the two clippers crossed the Downs. Here both captains took in
most of their sails and sent their numbers to their mastheads, signaling
to the authorities at Deal harbor that they were ready for steam tugs to
tow them to the Thames and thence to London. The Ariel was still a mile
ahead of the Taeping, but at the 14-knot speed they were going, that was
—
only eight minutes of lead time after a 15.000-mile passage of 99 days.
To the tea merchants and the betting public waiting in London, the
race had yet a little way to go. The contest would not be decided until
the tea was unloaded and on the dock. There still remained an element
of chance between now and that final moment —
and now chance began
to favor the Taeping.
In his zeal to get the first tug that entered the Thames. Captain Keay
had the same bad luck he had had when exiting from the Min; he got
another inferior vessel. Keay and his crewmen looked on with dismay as
the Taeping slipped past the Ariel. It seemed that the jig was up.
Suddenly Keay had an inspiration. He made a quick calculation and
concluded that both clippers would reach Gravesend. the mouth of the
Thames, when the tide was out. There would not be enough water in the
river for them to enter, nor for a couple of hours would either of them be
able to proceed upriver to the London wharves. He swiftly formed apian.
The Taeping and her tug sped on; the Ariel slowed down impercepti-
bly but signaled for a second tug. The Taeping reached Gravesend 55
122 Every sea a racecourse, every voyage a trial of speed

minutes ahead of the Ariel and, as Keay had anticipated, McKinnon Laboring around the clock, British
anchored. Keay, by holding back the Ariel, managed to creep up to the stevedores trundle tea chests into an East
India Dock warehouse and stack them
mouth of the Thames just as the tide began to turn. Then, while the to the ceiling, while a derrick lowers more
Taeping's crew labored to haul in the anchor, theAriel swept right on up chests to the wharf. A ship could be
the river behind her pair of tugs. emptied of a million pounds of tea in little

more than a day. and Liverpool and

Keay had remembered another point in the Ariel's favor; her destina-
Manchester retail shops were often selling
tion, the East India Dock, was farther downriver than the Taeping's new tea the morning after the arrival of
London dock. And so by 9 p.m. the Ariel was off the East India Dock, and a vessel at the docks in London.

Keay and his crewmen watched with satisfaction as the Taeping was
towed past them up the Thames. They had every reason to think them-
selves the winners at last.
Not yet; the tide was still too low for the Ariel to warp alongside the
East India Dock and throw the first tea chests ashore. Keay and his crew
waited an exasperating hour and 23 minutes to do so. Meanwhile, the
Taeping, which drew slightly less water, was able to tie up at her more
distant dock at 10 o'clock sharp. Now Captain McKinnon and all aboard
the Taeping, learning that the Ariel was still waiting to dock, had their
moment for self-congratulation.
 123

Actually, fate and the owners of the vessels had played the gallant men
Unbeknownst to them, tea prices in London
of both vessels a cruel trick.
had taken a steep and sudden dive in the months during which they
were reaching home; too many million pounds of tea were about to
descend on London. The tea merchants were now regretting the open-
handed promise they had made in a happier past, and the shipowners
were looking grimly to the future. It occurred to the owners of the Ariel,
Shaw, Maxton & Co., and to those of the Taeping, Rodger & Co.. that in
the event of a dispute over the results of the race the merchants might
have an excuse to withdraw the prize altogether. So on receiving tele-
grams from Deal bearing the news that the two clippers had arrived off
the Downs, members of both companies hurriedly held a clandestine
meeting in London. They agreed that they had nothing to lose and every-
Two weeks after a glut of tea delivered thing to gain by reaching a quiet understanding. They therefore pledged
in the 1866 race knocked the bottom out of that the clipper that docked first should be publicly declared the winner
cm already depressed London tea
of the merchants' premium without protest from the opponent, and that
market, this poster appeared, advertising
retail discounts on the new tea. The the winner would discreetly divide the premium with the loser. The
five leading clippers (the advertisement £100 bonus promised by the owners themselves would similarly be
omits one, the Taitsingj actually
split between the captains of the two clippers.
delivered much less tea than the poster
indicates, about 5.2 million pounds,
The official verdict was announced by the tea merchants on the fol-
or approximately 5 per cent of the annual lowing morning, September 7. The Taeping was the victor. The owners
consumption in the United Kingdom. repaired to the Ship and Turtle tavern on Leadenhall Street with their
captains and divided up the prize.
The solution made nobody happy. Though Captain Keay and his crew
GREAT RACE got half the prize they did not have the glory of public acclamation, and
OF THE
though Captain McKinnon and his men had the public honor they
reaped only half the winner's prize. The public, even without knowing
&
WITH THE FIRST of the owners' collusion, was no more satisfied with the official result. In
NEW SEASONS TEAS. the days and weeks following the race, arguments raged in the press
and in private clubrooms over the criteria by which the race had been
judged. Partisans of the Ariel found it monstrously unfair that, having
PRICE OF TEAS REDUCED. been the first to reach Deal, she had not been acclaimed the winner;
no feats of seamanship were required once the tugs took over. Others
THE 'Taeping,' "Ariel," "Fiery Cross," and "Serica"
have arrived, with others in close pursuit, with something like held that the Taeping, by docking first, had fulfilled the requirements
rORTYFIVE MILLION POUNDS OF NEW TEA on board— half a year's

onsumption for the United Kingdom. This enormous weight of the race; it was the delivery of the tea, after all, that counted with
London Docks, Shippers are compelled to
">ming suddenly into the
the merchants, who had put up the ante. Private bettors were left to fight
submit to MUCH LOWZR PRICES, in order to make sales

out the issue for themselves.

We
are thus enabled to make a Redaction
of FOURPENCE in the pound. Meanwhile, the three runners-up had come in right behind the two
4/0 down to - -
3/8 winners. The Serica arrived on the same tide as the Ariel and the
3/8 . •
-
3/4 Taeping on September 6 and tied up at 11:30 p.m. — just before the dock
3/4 . - •
3/0 gates closed for the night. Two days later came the Fiery Cross and the
And so on downwards. Taitsing, logging 101 days each.
The first five ships landed 5,241,202 pounds of fresh tea in London
We may add the above Ships have brought a few lots of most
unusual fine quality. within two days. As the other clippers straggled in with 11 million tons
more, prices were depressed still further. Such a state of affairs inevita-
Reduction takes place on Friday the 21st Inst.
bly cooled the ardor of the merchants, who suspended the premiums the
U. OXJOBD STRUT i
wa^ following year. Notwithstanding that mournful anticlimax, the British
BURGON
-J

2 SS5S2 .'o°£- & CO.,

public endowed the Great Tea Race of 1866 with a kind of immortality; it
TF.A V /'AY /M.V7S.
was the closest match in clipper-racing history, and a thrilling display of
the expertise of shipbuilders, captains and crewmen alike.
124

A passenger's view of a "most pleasant voyage"

"Our ship must be a magnificent sight, er,there was "no more motion than if As a paddle-wheel steam tug turns
one was sitting in a parlor at home." back toward Liverpool, the 226-foot, 2.275-
like some very large seabird," wrote
ton James Baines finally gets under
clipper passenger Alfred Withers in Life on board settled down to a peace-
way. The overland part of the Witherses'
1857. "We to a great extent lose the ful routine. The passengers organized
journey— noted in the diary entry
effect." But to Withers, the excitement amusement committees, danced and below the painting was now behind
of traveling aboard a clipper more than attended church services on deck, and them and, Withers wrote, "the report
had dinner with the captain of two guns over our heads told us that
made up for missing the visual effect. at his table
the voyage had really begun."
His ship was the James Baines, one ("a very stiff formal affair, plenty of
of the few clippers designed primarily iced champagne").
as passenger vessels. Withers, emi- Even for first-class passengers like

grating from England to Australia with Withers, the voyage had minor hard-
his bride, kept a diary of his trip and ships; fresh water was rationed except
illustrated it with watercolor sketches. when rainfall offered relief. "I suc-

It provides a fascinating passenger's- ceeded in catching sufficient water to

Withers' wife. Madge,and her female
eye-view of life on a clipper. fill all our pans and baths," Withers travelingcompanion sit huddled on a
Seven days out, the ship ran into "a wrote after a storm; "this is a great lux- stone quay,/rom which a steamer
perfect hurricane," Withers recorded. ury." But inconveniences were less would take them to the James Baines,
common on and comfortable anchored a mile away in Liverpool's
"The sails which were not furled blew a swift
Mersey River. "We had to wait four hours
away with a noise like a cannon, boxes clipper than on most ships, and With-
exposed to a sharp cold wind and rain,
and chests afloat below, bedding satu- ers concluded that his 82-day passage perched on the luggage enveloped in rugs,
rated, ladies in hysterics." on the James Baines was "the most shawls and umbrellas," wrote Withers.
But several days later, in fine weath- pleasant voyage I have had." But the ladies, he said, "bore it bravely."
 125

tfy M*~t~ A~~y

'& xiC <?*s£-
^J£-y /

.*?-

*^ <4~7~y

^&& /6-~*> ^yfy^'

9-y
Sy ' ^?*^t/ -?Kr~
yZ^t^?^ ^-^K«^ ^

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126

"Madge was soon quite at home here,"

Withers wrote of their tidy little cabin. "In
two hours our drawers, boxes and
every movable article became fixtures
by screwing them to the floor and
bulkheads so that they couldn't move
by the rolling of the ship and everything
was made snug for the bad weather.

The first-class dining room was

planned for meals taken in heavy seas:
Benches were set in the walls, and
bottles and glasses were held in racks. But
these measures were not always enough.
Wrote Withers of dining in a storm:
"A boiled leg of mutton leaps off the dish
like a flying fish onto a gentleman's
shirt front, abeefsteak pie clings fondly
to the heart of another, the mustard
potatoes etc. being evenly distributed
amongst the remainder of the table."
 127

A passenger stares glumly from the

where he has been tied by sailors
ratlines,
who caught him climbing there. The
seamen took unkindly to having their
invaded by passengers
territory aloft
who, as Withers put it, "aspire to raise
themselves above their fellow creatures by
ascending the rigging." Transgressors
might be kept there until a bottle of
rum was offered to the crew as atonement.

"Below is a rough but true sketch

of a funeral at sea." wrote Withers of his
picture of Captain Charles McDonnell
reading a service for a child. The bereaved
father stands by as two sailors prepare
to lower the flag-draped coffin into the sea.
Withers said the boy "fell against one
of the spars on deck and injured his head.
he also had an attack of bronchitis.
the two combined caused his death."
128

Passengers, probably participating

in the ship's pool for
guessing the arrival
time in Melbourne, study a newly
posted report showing the position of
the vessel. The captain generally
published the James Baines's latitude and
longitude daily "after taking the sun.''
Noted Withers: 'The excitement to see how
much we have done is tremendous."

Standing near a coiled rope on deck,

Captain McDonnell takes a sighting of the
sun with his sextant. Withers confided
to his journal: "1 like him very much, he is

a first-rate sailor, gentlemanly in

behavior and keeps everybody in their
proper distance, he is very strict
with the men, and will have the rules of the
ship enforced among the passengers."
 129

Taking a Jog-line reading, a saiJor

eyes an hourgJass as two others hold a reel
playing out a line that a fourth feeds
over the side. The men determined the
vessel's speed by measuring the
distance a piece of wood tied to the line
traveled in the water be/ore the
sand ran out. The James Baines was said to
have a top speed of 21 knots, and once
covered 423 miles in 24 hours.

Chickens, which provided eggs for

the pantry, peek out of their coop on the
afterdeck. while passengers lounge
nearby and a sailor stands duty at the
wheel. The wheelhouse behind the
helmsman served as a lockup for unruly
seamen and passengers alike. In it.
Captain McDonnell 'made room for five
second class passengers who are
punished for playing cards all night with
a candle stuck in the blankets."
Concluded Withers. "Serves them right."
Chapter 5

"A grand ship that will last forever"

— I ccording to an ancient legend spun in the brooding Scot-
tish countryside — and later turned into verse by the poet
— a farmer named Tarn o'Shanter was riding
Robert Burns
mare home one stormy night after some heavy
his gray
toping when, as lightning blazed across the heavens,
I

he espied a bevy of witches dancing in a churchyard. Most of the witches

were ugly and old. However, one, provocatively dressed in a cutty sark
— Scottish dialect for "short chemise" — was young, lovely and ex-
traordinarily graceful.
Tarn reined in his mare and paused to watch the beautiful witch as she
danced. Overcome with admiration, he suddenly cried out: "Weel done,
Cutty Sark!" Instantly the lightning ceased and the churchyard was
blotted out by darkness. Tarn, terrified, spurred his horse and raced
homeward, with the witches in close pursuit. For a moment it appeared
that he was done for; the lissome witch came close enough to seize his
horse by the tail. But the horse pulled free, leaving its tail in the witch's
hand, and Tarn rode to safety across the bridge that spanned the River
Doon; the witches, it seems, could not cross water.
No one knows precisely what aspect of this tale prompted Jock Willis,
a Scotsman and one of the leading shippers of 19th Century London, to
choose the name Cutty Sark for the tea clipper he commissioned in 1869.
Willis wanted a vessel that would be the fastest in the world, and per-
haps he hoped to impart to his ship the witch's speed. For a time he must
have suspected that he had instead endowed his ship with a dark en-
chantment: Her career at sea was shadowed by ill fortune and even
tragedy for many years. Ultimately, however, the Cutty Sark displayed a
happier likeness to her namesake, exerting an almost irresistible claim
on the affections of all those who knew her either firsthand or by reputa-
tion.No other clipper ship won such renown, and she brought the age of
sail to its glorious zenith.
Like the lass in the Scottish tale, the Cutty Sark was somewhat improb-
able from the start. In 1869, when she was a-building, merchants who
dealt in foreign goods were turning more and more to steamships to
transport their cargoes. About the only ports then beyond the reach of
steamships were those of Australia and the Far East too distant for —
steamers to reach on the supply of coal they could carry from Europe.
However, shippers were about to get a new gateway to the Orient: The
Suez Canal was being dug to connect the Mediterranean with the Red
Sea. Indeed, Empress Eugenie of France would preside at the opening of
the canal less than a week before the Cutty Sark was launched. A narrow,
shoal-strewn passage of no use to sailing vessels, the canal promised to

The archrivals Cutty Sark (right)

and Thermopylae battle /or an early lead
during their 1872 race from China to
England. This first meeting capped two
years of intense competition, during
which the Thermopylae had bested the
Cutty Sark's Shanghai-to-London time by
five days in 1870 and two days in 1871.
131
132 "A grand ship that will last forever"

make the tea trade a viable proposition for steamers by eliminating the
circuitous run around the Cape of Good Hope; it would shorten the
distance between the British Isles and China by almost 4,000 miles.
Still, not all shipping companies were ready to abandon their graceful
sailing vessels for smoke-belching steamers. Some shippers were cer-
tain that human beings could not withstand the grim work of stoking
steam engines in the suffocating heat of the Red Sea. Others predicted
that the steamships themselves would give out under the strain of
lengthy voyages. And partisans of sailing ships could cite the opinion
of many tea connoisseurs that tea transported in iron hulls took
on unsavory scents. For all these reasons, a dozen clipper ships were
launched in the year 1869.
No shipowner was more enamored of sail than Jock Willis, an eccen-
tric known variously as "Captain John," "Old Jock" or in reference to —
the pale beaver topper he invariably wore about the London water-
front— "Old White Hat." Sent to sea as a boy, he had eventually worked
his way up to captain and voyaged to the far corners of the world. When

'

»**&
 133

he took over his father's firm of John Willis & Son, he had firsthand
knowledge of ships and a ready grasp of human nature.
He was meticulous in every phase of the business. No Willis ship
sailed without Jock's coming down from his office on Leadenhall Street
to preside over the occasion. As the towline tautened to draw the ship
out of the harbor, the apprentices lined the rail and called out, "Good-by,
sir!" His long white beard waving in the breeze, Old Jock raised his
topper and replied, "Good-by, my lads!" Another Willis ship was offi-

In a signed pencil drawing by the

ciallyunder way— and another bond had been forged between the ship-
Cutty Sark's designer, Hercules Linton, (he owner and the men who sailed his vessels.
vessel's hull rests half-completed Jock Willis had a strong competitive streak. In 1868, when a rival
on the stocks (left of center) at Scott &
British shipowner, George Thompson, launched the clipper Thermopy-
Linton's shipyard in Dumbarton,
Scotland. Having won the construction lae and asserted she would be the fastest sailing ship afloat, Willis bri-
assignment with an unrealistically dled. But the Thermopylae was true to her billing. Her first passage
low bid, the//edgJing/irm went broke in
home from China took only 91 days. Atop her mainmast she proudly
midventure. and Scott & Linton's
creditors hired another shipbuilding wore a weather vane in the form of a gilded rooster, a symbol of her
company to finish the historic clipper. position as cock of the walk. That was a challenge Willis could not resist.

If*

C
fc%L^r^«< y/„st /flU^Ue *.*& 7v+~. '
s/tt/SSf *
1 34 "A grand ship that will last forever"

Forthwith, he ordered a new clipper built for his own fleet. She was
to be the Cutty Sark.
For his new ship Jock Willis turned to a new designer — but to a tried
and true design. The flagship of his fleet, and until now his favorite
sailer, was the Tweed, a 1,745-ton, frigate-like merchant vessel that he

had bought as a paddle steamer from another firm because he liked

her lines and because she was built of Malabar teak, a handsome, rot-
resistant wood to which he was especially partial. He promptly had her
converted to sail. The rebuilt Tweed proved a fast, easily handled sailer,
and Willis thought her strengths could be adapted to the clipper design
to produce a ship without peer.
The designer he chose was a 33-year-old shipbuilder named Hercules
Linton, who had recently formed a partnership with 24-year-old Wil-
liam Scott in Dumbarton, Scotland. The choice was a gamble, for they
had launched only one vessel together. But Linton had learned his craft
in the famous Aberdeen yard of Hall, builder of the Stornoway and the
Chrysolite, the first British ships to rival the American clippers. Willis'
keen eye told him their work was good, and his sharp business sense
enabled him to drive a hard bargain. Because the two eager young men
could not resist the chance to build a ship for a man of Willis' stature,
they agreed to a construction price of £17 per ton — £2 per ton less than
the Hall yard got for a typical clipper ship.
With the deal arranged, Willis gave Linton a tour of the Tweed in dry
dock. Linton, who had a mind of his own, took inspiration from the
Tweed, but he did not copy her blindly. He found the Tweed's stern too
barrel-shaped for his liking, and so he gave theCutty Sark a squarer stern
frame and bilge (some early critics said this feature made her look like a
clumsy cart horse instead of a thoroughbred racer, but it enabled her
to carry extra sail). Linton also knew the virtues of his native Firth of
Forth fishing boats, which were renowned throughout the British Isles
for their speed and seaworthiness, and so he fashioned the Cutty Sark
with a bottom like theirs, considerably squarer than that of a typical
clipper ship of the day. The product of this mixed lineage was an alto-

gether original vessel.

In length the Cutty Sark measured 212.5 feet — half a foot longer than
the Thermopylae, 15 feet longer than the Ariel. More heavily sparred
than any other tea clipper, she could carry as much sail as a 1,500-ton

frigate. When dressed in her full suit of sails, she spread three quarters of
an acre of canvas. All that sail, manipulated with 10 miles of lines, could
provide a driving force equivalent to 3,000 horsepower.
Willis had already decided to award the command of the Cutty Sark to
George Moodie, who had served as first mate of the Tweed. He therefore
sent Moodie up to Dumbarton to supervise her construction. Moodie
was as much a stickler for perfection as Willis himself. Nothing but
perfect timbers would do for the Cutty Sark's hull; nothing but perfect
planks would do for her decks — and the main deck had to be all in teak.
Predictably, her finishing touches were elegant. A line made of gold leaf
ran along the sides of her black-painted hull at the level of the main deck.
Gold leaf was also used for the ship's name and the words "Port of
London" that emblazoned the stern in raised letters encircled in laurel
 135

After collaborating in the creation

of the clipper Cutty Sark, each of these
four Scotsmen ventured into new fields.
Owner jock Willis joined the hoard of a
company that owned docks. Designer
Hercules Linton became assistant manager
of a shipyard that built steamers. Chief
draftsman John Rennie, who drew up the
plans for the Cutty Sark. worked as a naval
architect in China, where he was
appointed a mandarin for his services.
Willis' overseer of work on the clipper.
Captain George Moodie. finally quit the
sea and took up the study of meteorology.

CHIEF DRAFTSMAN JOHN RENNIE DhMiAKK HER< I I.Es UNION

136 "A grand ship that will last forever'

Tarn o'Shanter, above, flees on

horseback from a comely witch wearing a
cutty sark— Scottish dialect for "short
chemise." In designer Hercules Linton's
original drawing for the clipper Cutty
Sark' s figurehead (left), the witch clutches
a remnant of the horse's tail. The
actual figurehead lacked the trophy, but
the ship's crew often stuffed a hank
of rope in the witch's outstretched hand.
 137

wreaths. A Junoesque figurehead representing the witch in the short

chemise graced the bow.
The Cutty Sark was launched on November 22, 1869. Twelve weeks
later she sailed from London for China— the first test of what she could
do at sea. Throughout the passage, Captain Moodie was preoccupied
with delicate tuning of the sails and rigging. On days when he hit the
right combination, the Cutty Sark responded and made good runs: 343
miles in one 24-hour period, 360 miles in another (averaging a spirited
14V2 knots and 15 knots, respectively). But on days when the tuning
went amiss, the Cutty Sark balked and slowed down to a maddening
—
crawl. In the end she took 104 days to reach Shanghai not a bad perfor-
mance, but not an outstanding one either. "I was on board her in China at
the end of her maiden run," one seaman later recalled, "and, the same as
a good many there, did not know whether quite liked her or not. How-
I

ever," he added, "we were all bad prophets."

Just then Moodie had a more pressing problem than the Cutty Sark's
popularity, and that was the matter of filling her hold with tea. About a
dozen steamers that were taking advantage of the new Suez Canal had
already snapped up the lion's share of the first tea harvest. After a
month's wait for a later crop, Captain Moodie did manage to negotiate a
cargo of 1,305,812 pounds of tea for the Cutty Sark— but only at the
disappointing rate of 3 pounds 10 shillings per 50 cubic feet, about half
what clippers had commanded before the canal opened.
There remained the challenge of testing her speed on the run home
against that of the Thermopylae. The race was against the clock, for the
two ships did not depart together. The Cutty Sark set out on June 25 and
reached London after 110 days. The Thermopylae, sailing separately a
— —
month later and with better winds made the trip in 105 days.
The Cutty Sark's second voyage to China the following year was made
in an equally undistinguished 108 days. She did beat the Ariel home by a
week, but she was still outrun by the Thermopylae, which made the trip
in 106 days. Again, however, the Thermopylae had better weather, and
so the hopes of Willis, Moodie and the crew remained high.
On her third voyage, in 1872, the Cutty Sark got the long-awaited
chance to race the Thermopylae home in the same weather and under
thesame conditions. She and the Thermopylae both left the mouth of the
Shanghai River on June 18, 1872. Both were held up for three days by
fog. When the weather cleared, they sped down the China Sea, exchang-
ing the lead several times over the next four weeks. At 2 p.m. on July 25,
the lookout perched high in the Cutty Sark's crosstrees saw the Ther-
mopylae almost three miles ahead. At about that point the rivals lost
sight of each other. The wind freshened and the Cutty Sark surged for-
ward, logging runs of 340, 327 and 320 miles during one three-day
period. At the end of two weeks she was— although Moodie did not
realize it at the time — 400 miles ahead.
Then on August 9, when the Cutty Sark had reached the Indian Ocean,
a heavy gale blew up. For six days the wind mauled the clipper and, in a
final savage blow on August 15, tore off her rudder, which, having heavy
iron fittings, plunged straight to the bottom of the ocean.
Making repairs at sea was a familiar enough challenge to sailors of the
138 "A grand ship that will last forever"

day; every sailing vessel carried spare spars and sails, and the mending
of the rigging was all in a day's work. But the loss of a rudder was
uncommon. Faced with the loss of so vital a part of the ship, most
captains would have limped as best they could to a port where ship-
building expertise was available. One man aboard the Cutty Sark was in
favor of Moodie's doing just that. He was Robert Willis, brother of the
owner, and he peremptorily commanded Captain Moodie to put in to the
nearest South African port. The two men swore at each other; then Moo- Dignitaries gather to watch French
die, farfrom yielding to his cantankerous passenger, hove to and ad- Empress Eugenie, inside the large pavilion
at center, open the Suez Canal on
dressed himself instead to the demands of his stricken ship.
November 17, 1869. In the two smaller
He was lucky in finding a small model of the Cutty Sark on board; it tents. Catholics and Muslims "this

enabled him to calculate the measurements for a new rudder. He direct- once joined to pray for a singJe object."
reported a London newspaper. The
ed the carpenter to fashion a rudder by sawing heavy planks out of spare
event marked the end of clipper hegemony
spars. To join them together, the blacksmith had to forge iron fittings
in the tea trade, as steam vessels
from the ship's awning stanchions. began using the canal route to China.
 .

139

'^b^ ^^i^a^m^i^^ The work went on for four days as the Cutty Sark bounced and lurched
on the rough sea. One great wave washed over the deck, knocking down
IVIASUEZCANALI the forge and with it the blacksmith and an apprentice Captain Moo- —
die'syoung son Alexander, who was working the bellows. The black-
smith's beard was singed by a red-hot iron bar that had been dislodged,

6F and Alexander's chest was to bear the scars of flying hot coals for the rest
of his
bored on
Undeterred by such setbacks, the entire ship's company la-
life.

—
all except Robert Willis, who continued to strut about the

poop, muttering curses at the captain and his benighted undertaking.

No. 35 At last the Cutty Sark was fitted with her jury rudder and ready to
hobble around the Cape of Good Hope and on to London, where she
EXTRA CHOICEST arrived on October 18, 122 days after leaving her pilot in Shanghai.

FORMOSA Although the Thermopylae had docked a week earlier, the Cutty Sark
had made an 8,000-mile passage with makeshift steering gear in an

OOLOONC ?{boyd & "cg^mn

incredible 60 days —
not much longer than an ordinary sailing vessel
might take when fully fit. Some people thought that the race itself paled
by comparison with Moodie's feat of seamanship in getting the jury
The words "via Suez Canal" on this tea rudder fashioned and affixed in stormy waters. By any reckoning, the
label were meant to inform the buyer that Cutty Sark was a national heroine overnight.
the product was weeks fresher than if it
The abuse the captain had taken from Robert Willis had put Moodie in
had come/rom China by the much Jonger
route by sail around the Cape of Good a huff, and he resigned his command after the voyage. Old Jock tried
Hope. Though some connoisseurs thought every means of persuasion to induce him to stay, even promising that his
the steamers' iron hulls caused tea to brother would never go to sea again. But Moodie was adamant and found
deteriorate, steamer-carried tea sold well.
himself another berth as captain of a steamship belonging to a Glasgow
firm, leaving Old Jock to fume that Moodie was pigheaded.
Old Jock had more reasons than one to regret losing his crack captain.
More and more captains were succumbing to the seductions of steam
vessels, with their ever-speedier passages and consequently rising rates
of pay. Good masters were becoming hard to find, and during the next 10
years Willis and his precious Cutty Sark would suffer from a run of
captains who ranged from timid to terrible.
The first was Francis William Moore, who had recently served as
superintendent of the Willis shipyards. At the age of 50. Moore was
beyond driving a ship hard; moreover, his tenure as superintendent had
left him with an aversion to causing wear and tear on a ship. Therefore he

refused to allow the Cutty Sark sufficient sail for her sturdy hull to make
the most of good winds. Under Moore's reluctant hand, the Cutty Sark
stubbornly took 110 days to make the passage from England to Shanghai
and another 117 to return.
Willis immediately replaced Moore with Captain William Edward
Tiptaft, who had been commanding lesser vessels in the company's
fleet. The Cutty Sark still made no long-distance records and won no
races. But already she was demonstrating that she could do better in stiff
winds than in light ones. One mariner, recalling a voyage under Tiptaft's
command, was to write later that "it got to be quite a common saying
then: 'Fifteen knots and two apprentices,' as it took two to hold the reel"
when her speed was being measured by running a log line off a spool. In
the hands of a sure sailor, the clipper clearly could run fast enough. But
Tiptaft died of a heart attack in Shanghai in 1878. and Willis resumed his
search for the right master for the Cutt\ Sark. -

©
140 "A grand ship that will last forever"

A bonny synthesis of wood, iron and canvas

With her gleaming brass fittings, deli-

cately carved scrollwork and polished

teak handrails, the Cutty Sark looked
more like a millionaire's yacht than a
toiling merchantman. But underneath
her elegant exterior, the sleek clipper
was a sturdy work horse of a ship
one of the most powerful sailing ma-
chines ever built.
Launched in 1869, the Cutty Sark
boasted an iron-ribbed, wood-planked
hull that proved both exceptionally
strong and very fast. With her two im-
mense holds crammed with a full car-

go of 1.3 million pounds of tea, the

clipper could blast through the seas at
a topspeed of 17V2 knots, driven by a
towering three-masted rig of square
sails capable of generating more than
3,000 horsepower from the wind.

CUTTY SARK
 141

=±

With her mainmast rising 145.9

feetabove her deck and her main yard
extending 78 feet from tip to tip, the
Cutty Sark carried more sail for her size
than any other clipper ship ever built.
When all her studding sails were set. she
flung 32,000 square feet of canvas
before the wind. These views show her as
originally rigged, before alterations
in 1880 reduced the height of her masts
:
! and the amount of sail she carried.

;i.
142

The Cutty Sark's unusual half-wood, for wooden clippers almost ceased. cause an electrochemical reaction that
half-iron hull was a memorable exam- wood and, pound
Iron cost less than took place between the two metals in
ple of necessity mothering invention. for pound, was stronger. However, one sea water would corrode and destroy
Most earlier British clippers, and all serious drawback prevented its use the iron. Not until the 1870s. with the
theirAmerican forerunners, had been on China clippers: On a long voyage perfection of copper-based antifouling
wood. P'or strength and ease of
built of through warm seas, iron hulls became paints, could iron-hulled ships travel
cutting and shaping, hardwood was heavily fouled with barnacles, add- the clippers' warm-water routes.
unsurpassed as a shipbuilding materi- ing weeks to a trip. Wooden planking For clippers of the 1860s. the answer
al. But by the 1860s. England's oak for- could be covered with copper sheets to was a hull that limited the use of iron

estswere seriously depleted, and teak prevent barnacle growth. But copper to the internal skeleton. The 963-ton
had become so expensive that orders could not be affixed to an iron hull be- Cutty Sark was constructed of six-

1. STEERING GEARS 13. DECK BEAM

2. CAPTAIN'S STATEROOM 14. BOOBY HATCH

3. SKYLIGHT 15. FIRE BUCKET

4. SALOON 16. LIFEBOAT DAVIT

5. OFFICERS' QUARTERS 17. LIFEBOAT

6. DIAGONAL TIE PLATE 18. )OLLYBOAT

7. STRINGER PLATE 19. STUDDING-SAIL SPAR

8. KEEL 20. APPRENTICES' BUNKS

9. RIB 21. BOSUN'S CABIN

10. COPPER SHEATHINC 22. DECK FLUSH PORT

11. WOOD PLANKING 23. BILGE PUMP

12. ANGLE PLATE 24. MAIN HATCH
 143

inch-thick planks of teak rising from a finest grade of seasoned and knot-free with cement in order to prevent rot.

15-by-l 7-inch keel of solid rock elm. wood was chosen for planking. The Before she was launched, the Cutty
This exterior sheathing was double- seams between rows of planks were Sark was examined by the surveyors
bolted to iron ribs that were reinforced calked with the best brown oakum, from Lloyd's Register, who rated her
by diagonal tie plates and horizontal and each plank end was fitted with an 16A1, which meant that she had the
stringer plates. More iron beams, angle iron cap to seal it from the water. The highest insurance classification, and
plates and iron pillars supported the bottom of the vessel was covered with that was guaranteed for 16 years. In
it

cargo deck and the main deck. sheets of antifouling copper that were fact, the Cutty Sark was so strongly
All the Cutty Sark's ironwork was tacked over a coating of white lead and built that she roamed the oceans of the
top quality, capable of bearing a stress tallow. In the hull, all inaccessible cav- world for more than 50 grueling years
of 20 tons per square inch. Only the ities in the bow and stern were filled without ever suffering a major leak.

25. KEELSON 33. GIG

26. HOLD 34. DECK WINCH

27. LOWER DECK 35. FORWARD HATCH
28. TEA CHEST 36. WATER CLOSET
29. IRON PILLAR 37. PIGPEN

30. GALLEY 38. PAJNT LOCKER

31 CARPENTER'S SHOP 39. ADDITIONAL CREW QUARTERS
32. CREW QUARTERS 40. CEMENT FILLING

JjlvwC^-WL
144 "A grand ship that will last forever"

fter Tiptaft's death, the next man to take command of the

Cutty Sark was James Smith Wallace, who had been first
mate under Tiptaft. Wallace turned out to be a first-rate
seaman who was finely attuned to the intricacies of sail; for
three years he drove the Cutty Sark hard and well. He was
also a jovial man whose crew liked him; he joked with everyone and
displayed inexhaustible patience in teaching apprentices their
craft. But

Wallace lacked decisiveness and had difficulty enforcing discipline.

Under him the Cutty Sark suffered her first tragedy.
In the spring of 1880, Jock Willisheard that the United States Navy
was offering prime speedy delivery of coal to the steam-
freight rates for
ships it had stationed in the Pacific. Coal had none of the glamor of tea;
besides being a filthy and unpleasant cargo, it was a highly flammable
one. But it paid well, and such was the grip of steamers on the tea market
that the Cutty Sark had been unable to get a tea cargo on her last trip to
—
China. So Jock Willis reluctantly concluding that he would have to
give up his quest for preeminence in tea races decided to alter the —
Cutty Sark, tailoring her for trade in which swiftness was not para-
Hard-driving James Smith Wallace was
mount. March 1 880 he had nine feet six inches cut off her lower masts
In
the fourth captain of the Cutty Sark but the
and seven feet off the lower yards, and he shortened her upper masts and demonstrate her great speed.
first to

yards in proportion, thinking that the resulting reduction in sail area Immediately after taking the helm in 1878.
Wallace made a brilliant 16-day run
would make her easier to operate and a more reliable, if somewhat
between Shanghai and the Sunda Strait,
slower, sailer. (In fact, the surgery turned out to be just what she needed averaging more than 15 knots.
to perform at her very best.) Two months later, with Captain Wallace still
in command, Willis sent the Cutty Sark off to Penarth, Wales, to fill her
hold with coal. From Yokohama. Japan.
there she set sail for
Captain Wallace had a doubtful complement of officers this time. The
first mate, who was listed in the ship's articles as Sidney Smith, may
have been traveling under an alias. If so, he had good reason for conceal-
ing his identity; he proved to be a ruthless bucko mate. The second mate
was not a bad fellow at heart, but he was so nearsighted that he could not
see to the top of the rigging; the amiable Wallace stood watch with him to
help him out. The third mate was a former apprentice who had failed his
examination for second mate.
The crewmen proved to be no more promising than the officers.

Among them was a chronic doomsayer whom the apprentices nick-

named Dutchman, an allusion to the legendary ship that was
the Flying
fated to wander interminably, ever in search of a welcoming port. When
Wallace made the mistake of setting from Penarth on a Friday
sail

a day traditionally held by sailors everywhere to be bad luck he —

thoughtlessly gave the Flying Dutchman cause for muttering gloomy
prophecies into the ears of a superstitious crew. Another crew mem-
ber was a black man named John Francis, who seemed to have a knack
for doing everything wrong. His clumsiness brought repeated tongue-
lashings from the first mate.
Trouble came as the Cutty Sark was crossing the Indian Ocean and
heading for Anyer Lor on the Sunda Strait, where she was to put in to
receive instructions from Willis in London. Captain Wallace ordered a
slight shift of course. "Slack away the tack," Smith shouted. The man
at the bow, who should have responded by loosening a foresail sheet.
 —

145

was John was napping; perhaps he did not hear

Francis. Perhaps he
well; perhaps he was in a bad mood and deliberately chose to disobey.
In any event, nothing happened, and the mate rushed forward in a rage,
yelling obscenities.
He reached the bow to find Francis clutching a capstan bar. The two
men wrestled for a moment. Smith wrenched the heavy wooden bar
away, gave it a powerful swing and brought it thudding down on Fran-
cis' skull. Francis dropped to the deck. Another seaman slackened the
sheet, the clipper fell off on her new course, and Francis' unconscious
body was carried to his bunk. He died there three days later.
The crew had no love for Francis. But the violence of the deed — and
their own ill treatment at the hands of the mate— was enough to put
them on the side of the hapless victim. Captain Wallace had no sooner
read a funeral service and buried Francis at sea than the crew turned
sullen to an alarming degree. Wallace confined Smith below, and took
over the mate's duties himself.
Throughout this disturbance the Cutty Sark had made a swift passage
from Wales to the Sunda Strait, reaching Anyer Lor in 72 days, earlier
than expected. Consequently, there was not yet a telegram giving
instructions from Willis. While waiting for his employer's message.
Wallace took steps to deal with the troubles on his ship and. in so —
doing, he made a fatal mistake.
Lying at anchor in the roadstead, not far from the Cutty Sark, was the
American merchantman Colorado. Wallace called on the Colorado's
captain and (presumably withholding intelligence of the killing) asked
if his fellow captain could use another mate. The American said yes.
Before making the transfer, Wallace arranged to have a few Indonesian
bumboats come alongside the Cutty Sark's starboard rail, and handed
out some spending money to his crew. While the men were absorbed in
haggling with the islanders over such local exotica as pineapples. Java
sparrows and parakeets. Wallace allowed Smith to slip over the port side
into a small boat, which whisked him away.
Captain Wallace never explained what led him to conspire with his
mate as he did. Perhaps he felt that Smith had killed the surly seaman in
self-defense. If so. he should have taken Smith ashore and had him stand
trial. By helping Smith to escape. Wallace broke the law. In addition, he

put his crew in a fury. When a telegram finally arrived from Jock Willis
bringing orders to proceed to Yokohama, the crewmen announced
with the Flying Dutchman as their spokesman — that they would neither
raise anchor nor tend sail.

Making do with his officers and apprentices. Wallace took the Cutty
Sark into the Java Sea — and a maddening calm. For three days the clip-
The crew sulked in the fore-
per slatted in the swells, rolling aimlessly.
castle. The Flying Dutchman added to their bad temper by making dire
predictions that worse was yet to come. Captain Wallace paced the
quarter-deck day and night. He seemed never to sleep or even to nap. His
joviality was gone. Clearly he was in anguish.
In the early hours of the fourth day at sea, Wallace could stand the
pressure no longer. At 4 a.m.. when the watch was changing, he walked
to the helm and told the helmsman to check his course. As the man
146 "A grand ship that will last forever"

The dismal fates of once-proud vessels

Although the Cutty Sark seemed to last forever, the life of rigged as a bark, finally sank in the North Atlantic in 1892.
most clippers was downright ephemeral. Nearly one quar- A few old clippers entered the despised African slave
ter of the sleek racers came to grief before they were 1 \ cars trade. Others carried loads of stinking guano from theChin-
old. Most of them, including many that were in the China cha Islands in the Pacific. And many suffered the ultimate
trade, were pounded to pieces on reefs or rocky lee shores. humiliation of a sailing vessel: They were dismasted and
The Oriental struck a rock and sank in 1854 while she was used as coaling barges for steamships.

en route down the treacherous Min River from Foochow, The pioneers of the clipper era generally fared better than
the speedy Flying Fish was condemned after grounding at their ships. Captain Nat Palmer, who whittled the first mod-
the mouth of the Min in 1858. and the Taeping foundered el of the Houqua. retired to Connecticut and helped found
on a China Sea reef in 1871. the New York Yacht Club. Captain Josiah Creesy of the
Others vanished at sea with all hands, presumably vic- Flying Cloud served with the Union Navy during the Civil
tims of storms. These included the pioneering clipper Rain- War. and afterward retired and lived in Salem, Massachu-
bow in 1848, the Houquu in 1864 and the tea racer ArieJ in with his wife. Ocean pathfinder Matthew Fontaine
setts,

1872. And fire, the bane of all wooden ships, consumed its Maury planned the route of the first transatlantic telegraph
share of clippers. The Hornet (below) caught fire when a cable before the War. then, being a native Southerner devel-
seaman spilled varnish near a lantern, and the John GiJpin oped electrically detonated mines for the Confederacy.
burned while carrying a cargo of whale oil. The sudden demise of the clippers nearly bankrupted
As steamships took over the most lucrative trades, several master shipbuilder Donald McKay, but he rebounded to
clippers became ordinary tramp freighters, hauling lumber, construct Union ironclads and commercial steamships be-
grain, coal and other bulk goods. After years of tramping, fore he retired in 1877. And John Griffiths, who designed
the Great Republic sank off Bermuda in 1872. The Flying the Rainbou in 1843. turned his talents to steamship de-
Cloud carried timber until 1874, when she piled up on the sign — but he went to his grave in 1882 insisting that wood-
Newfoundland coast. The Wild Pigeon, which had been re- en hulls were better than steel.

Sheets of /lame roar from the sinking clipper Horrid while a boatload of her seamen begin to jury-rig a mast.
 —

147

leaned over to study the dimly lit binnacle. Wallace climbed onto the
taffrail and dropped overboard.
At the sound of the splash, the helmsman called out and tossed two
life preservers over the stern. The crewmen forgot their grudge and
rushed to lower a boat to aid their captain, but to no avail. In the darkness
they saw nothing but the two life rings floating on the water — and the
fins of several sharks. Captain Wallace had vanished.
It was a contrite crew that brought the Cutty Sark back to Anyer Lor.
Jock Willis, informed by cable of Wallace's fate, was at a loss to under-
stand events taking place half a world away, since he had not been told of
the death of Francis or the escape of the mate. All he could do was ask the
—
second mate to take command only to have the mate protest that he
was incompetent to do so. Finally Willis arranged for a Dutch pilot to go
aboard and navigate the ship to Singapore.
At Singapore most of the crew deserted — among them the Flying
Dutchman, who vowed to devote the rest of his life to pursuing Smith
until he was brought to justice. Two years later Smith, then going under
the alias of Anderson, was recognized in London by one of the men who
had sailed with him on the Cutty Sark — perhaps the Flying Dutchman,
although the man's identity is not known. The former mate was taken
into custody, brought to trial, convicted of manslaughter and sentenced
to seven years' hard labor.
Meanwhile, Willis faced the problem of finding another captain for
the Cutty Sark in Singapore. Since his nearest clipper was the Hallow-
e'en in Hong Kong, he cabled her captain. Robert Warrender Fowler, to
ask him if the Hallowe'en's first mate. William H. Bruce, would be capa-
ble of assuming command of the Cutty Sark. It happened that Fowler
despised Bruce. Jumping at the unexpected chance to be rid of him.
Fowler replied to Willis in one word: "Yes." Bruce immediately took
—
passage to Singapore and the Cutty Sark acquired the most nefarious
captain of her lifetime.
Captain Fowler's abhorrence of his mate was completely under-
first

standable. Bruce, a fat little man with protruding eyes and a high-
pitched tenor voice, was a split personality a Bible-thumping evan- —
gelist and a drunken sot by turns. With him as her captain, the Cutty
Sark embarked on a three-year nightmare that would not be relieved by a
single good passage.
Willis ordered Bruce to proceed in ballast to Calcutta, and there find
another cargo. The passage from Singapore to Calcutta took 42 days, half
again as long as it should have, because Bruce was drunk much of the
time and kept shortening sail for no apparent reason.
After the Cutty Sark finally reached Calcutta, she lay at anchor in the
Hooghly River while Captain Bruce, unable to find a cargo, spent his
time preaching fire and brimstone at a local church. The crew was paid
off. At length the gullible congregation of Fnglish colonists presented
Bruce with a gold watch for his inspirational services, and he found a
cargo of Indian tea. With that cargo he achieved his one distinction
bringing the first cargo of Indian tea to Australia, where it was to find a

vigorous market in the growing colon}

On this passage, however. theCuffy Sark suffered a bitter humiliation:
148 "A grand ship that will last forever"

She floundered off the Australian coast while Bruce needlessly checked Whiling away the days of waiting for
and rechecked his bearings, and a much slower ship that had left Calcut- a cargo of wool, officers and apprentices
gather with female guests for a group
ta a week later romped past her into Melbourne.
portrait aboard the Cutty Sark at Sydney
From then on, one calamity followed another. From Melbourne the in 1887. Captain Richard Woodget.
Cutty Sark doubled back to Sydney to fetch a load of coal for Shanghai. wearing the tam-o'-shanter that became
his trademark, is leaning on the poop
She no sooner reached Shanghai than an outbreak of cholera killed two
rail (back roiv. third from right).
members of her crew and left most of the rest so weak that they could
hardly work the ship when she took off on the next leg, a passage to the
Philippines for a cargo of jute to go to New York. In the Sunda Strait she
almost ran aground because Captain Bruce was drunk and paying no
attention to the helm. In the Indian Ocean a seaman fell to his death from
the rigging. In the South Atlantic the crew had to be put on half rations
because Bruce had not stocked enough provisions for the voyage. Before
she reached her destination the food was gone, and the proud ship was
reduced to begging from passing vessels. When the Cutty Sark reached
New York Harbor on April 10, 1882, the men were half-starved and
altogether disgruntled, and the vessel herself was a sorry sight, with
tattered sails, frayed rigging, and a rusted windlass.
 149

At long last, however, relief was in store for the sadly used clipper.
From his agent in New York. Old Jock had learned of the Cutty Sark's
miserable state. Luckily, another Willis vessel, the Blackadder, was in
New York with an able commander aboard. He was Captain Frederick
Moore (no relation to the F. W. Moore who had succeeded Captain Moo-
die aboard the Cutty Sark in 1872), and Willis transferred him and his
officers to the Cutty Sark. Moore, a tall, bearded, reticent man, took his
new charge to India for redwood, brown sugar and dyes, and then to
London. She arrived in her home port on June 2. 1883. her first appear-
ance there since May 6, 1880.
Moore's career aboard the Cutty Sark was a brief one and might not be
remembered save for the important fact that it represented a turning
point in the Cutty Sark's Approaching her 15th year— a ripe old
life.

age for a clipper — the Cutty Sark under this new master proved that her
hull was still as sound as on the day of launching and that she still
had a promising future.
The Cutty Sark had spent eight years carrying tea, and another five
years tramping in search of any cargo she could get. By the time Moore
took over at her helm, the Suez Canal had been open for more than a
decade, and steamers had gained total control of the China trade. The
clippers had necessarily been diverted to other trades that lay along
routes where coaling stations had not yet been opened. Some clippers
entered exclusively into the jute and sugar traffic of the Philippines;
others specialized in commerce with India. Some did as the Cutty Sark
had done, tramping from port to port.
Meanwhile, a boom in the Australian wool trade had created a new
market for clipper service. Australia, which still lay beyond practical
reach of steamers, was exporting more than a million tons of wool annu-
ally to the textile factories of England. Speedy delivery of wool had
become nearly as important and as lucrative as quick delivery of fresh tea
had been three decades before. The London exchange auctioned wool
only from January through March. If a wool merchant missed the first
auctions, he had to pay high warehouse prices to hold the wool for the
next time around. Given the possibility of such a financial setback, clip-
per delivery seemed a wise investment.
Under Captain Moore, the Cutty Sark set off from London for a wool
cargo in July 1883. She came romping home from Australia in an aston-
ishing 82 days, 25 days faster than her nearest competitors. The follow-
ing year she lowered her time to 80 days. The Thermopylae, which also
had entered into the wool trade, managed to tie this time, but the Cutty
Sark had proved that she was the equal of her old rival.
In the spring of 1885, Willis transferred Moore to another ship (his
onetime favorite, the Tweed) and put aboard the Cutty Sark a 40-year-old
Norfolk man named Richard Woodget. He would sail her into history.
Captain Woodget's father was a farmer, but Richard himself had dem-
onstrated both an independent spirit and a bent for seamanship at an
early age. As a boy, he stole a rudderless sailing dinghy, spent an after-
noon teaching himself not only how to sail but how to steer by the sail
alone, without a rudder, and returned the boat to its mooring before the
loss was discovered. At 16 he went to sea as an apprentice, and during
150 "A grand ship that will last forever"

the next 20 years he worked his way up through the ranks to captain.
By the time he earned his first command, he had become an expert at
sailmaking, rigging and navigation. He had also established a reputa-
tion for eccentricity. In a day when most captains sported pot hats—
stiff-crowned headgear such as bowlers — Woodget wore a cap at a rak-
ish angle. Appropriately for the prospective master of the Cutty Sark, it

was a tam-o'-shanter.
All those qualities, combined with and iron will,
his intrepid nerve
made him was new to the
the perfect match for the Cutty Sark. In 1885 he
Willis firm, but Jock Willis was quick to note his talents. As soon as
Woodget returned from his first voyage, Willis took him down to the East
India Dock. Pointing to theCutty Sark, he said: "Captain Woodget, there
is your ship. All you have to do is drive her."

Woodget, who liked to boast, "Give me two boys and I'll rig a ship,"
made first concern. He began at
the Cutty Sark's neglected rigging his
once tromp the deck, inspecting every line and fitting. Within days he
to
had replaced all her outworn hempen braces and headsail sheets with
supple wire. He put new barrel winches at the main rail for the heavy
work of handling the foresail and mainsheets and tacks. Men installing
the new rigging were surprised to find Captain Woodget himself along-
side them on the footropes; he climbed aloft to supervise the work on
every yard, to the top of every mast.
It took several months to get the Cutty Sark in the shape that Woodget

wanted, and Willis did not stint on funds. On April 1. 1885, newly
rigged, calked and painted from stem to stern, she was ready. Woodget
down tight on his head at 2 p.m. and ordered
pulled his tam-o'-shanter
the lines cast Slowly the gleaming ship edged away from the East
off.

—
India Dock, bound for Australia and for the feats of speed that had
always seemed within her power.
Having personally examined every inch of the clipper's new rigging,
Woodget knew exactly what the old sailer could do. So when the Cutty
Sark, after making an easy run down the Atlantic, rounded the Cape of
Good Hope and picked up a strong northeasterly, he confidently piled
on a full suit of sails. For three days, with everything drawing, the
Cutty Sark sped across the Indian Ocean at a pace that sometimes
approached 16 knots.
Woodget was a hard driver but a prudent one, and the crew delighted
in watching him at work. "He fairly reveled in it," one of his officers
wrote later. "With one side of his moustache jammed into his mouth,
and hanging on to the weather rigging, I can see him now, his sturdy
figure in yellow oilskins and long leather sea boots, watching aloft and
hanging on till the last minute."
Woodget drove the men as he drove the ship, refusing to be deflected

Docked at Sydney's busy Circular Quay, the Cutty Sark

her 60-foot jib boom hauled aboard to avoid interfering with
—
passing traffic Joads bales of woo] arriving by horse-
dran nnagon. Betiveen 1885 and 1894. the clipper lugged some
46,000 bales— neighing a grand total of 18.6 million
pounds—from Australia to ports in England and Belgium.
151
152 "A grand ship that will last forever"

from his purpose, and demanding complete obedience in all things and
at all times —
even when he was conducting church services on deck. On
one Sunday, when a breaking wave that spilled over the deck nearly
washed the men off their knees and a crewman looked imploringly up at
the captain, Woodget bellowed, "Close your damned eyes, Bill Jones,
and let me finish this prayer!"
Such steadfast determination served him well in all kinds of weather.
When strong winds dropped off and were succeeded by contrary breezes
and calms, Woodget still seemed to be able to keep the Cutty Sark mov-
ing. She made the 15,000-mile run to Sydney in 78 days.
Among the clipper-ship captains and crews in the wool trade, rivalry
ran high, just as it had during the tea races two and three decades before.
Each ship vied for the honor of being first home to London, and each had
her champions among local bettors in the Sydney pubs. Not surprising-
ly, the two clippers that the odds favored in 1885 were the Cutty Sark

and the Thermopylae.

The Thermopylae came into the harbor in August, a few weeks after
the Cutty Sark. During the weeks spent waiting for the wool to be
brought to the quay and loaded, the Thermopylae rode to anchor flaunt-
ing the gilded cock at her masthead, symbolizing the preeminence she
had not yet lost. Watching it flashing in the sunlight one day, Woodget
vowed to his third mate, "I'll pull that damned bauble off her." Not since
the fateful episode of the jury rudder under Captain Moodie in 1872
had the two vessels raced each other over the same course, at the same
time and under the same conditions. Now once again the opportunity to
do that had arrived.
Ships on the Australia run sailed east around the world, going out-
bound around the Cape of Good Hope, and home by way of the fearsome
Cape Horn. For Woodget, who had not made the Australia trip before,
this was to be a first time around Cape Horn. In Sydney his fellow
skippers joked that he would probably get lost. Woodget was known to
be far too good a navigator to do that, but the Cutty Sark and every
other clipper faced problems enough in the huge seas of the roaring
forties and the Horn.
All told, nine of the fastest clippers moved out of Sydney Harbor
between October 5 and 24, 1885, setting all sails as they began the voy-
age home. The Cutty Sark and the ThermopyJae left within two days of
each other, on the 16th and the 18th, respectively.
Sailing south of New Zealand, the Cutty Sark made a nearly straight
run for the Horn. She had her first brush with angry seas within a few
days— and met the test easily. As each mountain of water rose crack-
ling astern, the Cutty Sarkresponded nimbly; she tucked the onrushing
wave under her counter and ran forward on its crest. The high, squared
stern that Hercules Linton had designed was ideal for massive following
seas such as these.
A more serious soon followed. On October 22, a week out of
trial

Sydney, the Cutty Sark was proceeding eastward before a howling

squall of snow and At 1 1 o'clock that night, a sudden gust sent her
hail.
reeling. Despite the helmsman's best efforts, she broached to, spinning
around so that she came broadside to the wind and the rising sea. Her
 153

The captain with a camera

One day in 1887, a shipment of pecu-

liarly nonnautical equipment was de-
livered to the Cutty Sark as she lay at
London's East India Dock. The deliv-
ery included a large supply of photo-
graphic plates, the chemicals for proc-
essing them, and a mahogany view
camera. The Cutty Sark's irrepressible
captain, Richard Woodget, who had
shipboard enthusiasms ranging from
breeding prize collies to roller skating,
was taking up photography.
The captain approached this latest
hobby with characteristic zeal. Most
amateurs of the era used small cameras
that could be hand-held, but he insist-

ed on having the big, full-plate, profes-

sional size, even though it was cum-
bersome and required tripod support.
To develop the 12-by-10-inch glass
negatives, he transformed his cabin
into a darkroom, using his bathtub as a
reservoir for mixing chemicals and
washing the developed plates.
Captain Woodget found abundant
subject matter within the shipboard
world of the Cutty Sark. And wherever
the opportunity arose, he turned his
camera on the grandeur of the world
through which she passed.

CAPTAIN RICHARD WOODGET. ABOUT 1900

In thisphotograph by Woodget, the Cutty Sark lies at anchor in
Sydney Harbor. Although the picture could have been taken from
the rigging of another ship, Woodget s camera was so heavy
that he probably shot the photograph from a nearby rise on shore.
154

In a light breeze, the Cutty Sark moves

smoothly through calm, midocean seas.
The serene spirit of the photograph
belies the difficulty Woodget had taking
it: After he had been rowed out to

sea in a small, unsteady boat, the captain

struggled to focus his camera on
the ship while two apprentices tried to
keep the legs of the tripod steady.

On the Cutty Sark's poop deck, three

colliespose agreeably for their master's
camera. Woodget became renowned
for the pedigreed dogs he bred aboard the
Cutty Sark, many of which became
winners in the Australian show ring.
 155

Gathered beside the Cutty's deck winch,

threecrewmen provide an album entry for
their photographer-captain. The man
at right isTony Robson, the Cutty Sark's
Chinese-born cook. As an infant, he
had been found drifting in a small boat off
the coast of China. He grew up on British
ships and was, said a mate, "English in
every respect but his features."

Seated under the mizzenmast boom, a

saiJor mends a section of sail as a pensive
apprentice looks on. After Woodget's
photography sessions, apprentices were
summoned to a most nonnautical
chore: to serve as darkroom assistants.
156

"Passed close by an iceberg, about 300

feet high,and photographed it." Woodget
wrote in his iog on January 10. 1888,
when he took these pictures near Cape
Horn. Fascinated by the great formations,
he would watch them for hours, leaning
on the spanker boom, chin on folded
arms; more than once, his beard froze
to the boom without his noticing.
 157

main royal blew out; so did her main upper topsail and even the main-
and fore-topgallants. She gave a sickening roll, and the water poured
over her lee rail in a torrent. She shuddered, wallowed, then rose with
the next sea and lifted her bow, shaking off tons of green water like
a rising whale. Away with the water went all the gear on deck, includ-
ing the port lifeboat.
The trouble, however, was not with the vessel but with the exhausted
helmsman— and he recovered within seconds. Battling with all his
strength, he brought the Cutty Sark back onto her heading and managed
to hold her there as the next sea rolled under the stern.
Most captains would have hove Woodget, unwilling
to for repairs.
to lose a minute, instead sent all hands aloft at once to bend on and
reef new topsails. Despite the freezing sheets of rain and stinging sleet,
the men worked without letup through the night. And the Cutty Sark
kept moving forward.
On the next evening at seven came still another danger. The bow
lookout suddenly shouted, "Ice on the port bow!" Visibility was poor,
and the lookout had failed to notice, until the ship was practically upon
it, a monstrous iceberg that was coming perilously close to tearing a fatal

gash in the Cutty Sark's hull. Woodget quickly ordered a turn to star-
board and eluded disaster.
—
By November 8 only 23 days out of Sydney — the Cutty Sark had
rounded the Horn. She had shown that she could safely run before the
world's biggest waves and strongest winds, survive sail-bursting squalls
of snow and hail, and even rise from broaching to. On the next leg of
the passage, she would encounter a different set of problems. Sailing
north along the east coast of South America, she would have to contend
with a series of contrary winds and then go almost head on into north-
easterlies. Could she beat against the prevailing winds as well as she
had run before the wind?
With Woodget expertly directing the shifting of sail, she could— as
almost anyone aboard could have predicted by now. "He gave all his
crew complete confidence in him," one of his officers was to recall. "I
never remember seeing him anything but calm in dirty weather."
He worked his men so hard they dropped in exhaustion at the end of
every watch. But under his inspiration they labored willingly. And
as they did, the Cutty Sark cooperated and clawed her way northward.
Just as her high, squared stern had kept her from being pooped by the
following seas, now her sharp bow kept her slicing cleanly through
the waters into the adverse winds. She successfully ran northeast up ihe
Atlantic, crossed the Equator and made her way to the coast of North
Africa, then headed north past Portugal. By December 22 she had
reached the Bay of Biscay. She was a record-smashing 67 days out of
Sydney, and had every reason to expect that she would reach the English
Channel in one more day.
Now, so close to home and the finish line, came an agonizing series of
delays. First the wind came blowing southwest down the Channel. Beat-
ing into it, the Cutty Sark was able to move only a miserable 64 miles on
December 23, only 65 the next day. On December 25 she made a meager
70 miles, and the crew was dull-spirited in its celebration of Christmas.
158 "A grand ship that will last forever"

The day after that the wind dropped; and on the 27th came a flat calm, a in a vast, multitiered warehouse
rarity in winter on the blustery English Channel. The hours dragged on known as the great wool floor, workers
weigh some of the 700,000 bales of
and the Cutty Sark seemed hardly to move at all. wool that reached London by dipper every
Not until late in the day did a breeze stir out of the southwest, picking year during the 1880s. Some days as
up strength as it came on. Soon a ripple formed at the Cutty Sark's bow, many as 3,000 bales entered the warehouse,
and so much loose wool drifted about,
growing into a wave. Now the Cutty Sark put her shoulder down and
said The Illustrated London News, that
surged ahead. At 11 o'clock on the morning of December 28 Woodget people "frequently walk knee-deep" in it.
and the crew made out Beachy Head, at the southern tip of England,
and by 1:25 p.m. they were able to take a pilot aboard for the last leg
of the journey. But later in the afternoon a snowstorm swept down the
Channel from the north-northwest, reducing visibility to nil, and it was
11:30 p.m. before the Cutty Sark finally anchored in the Downs.
Woodget and his men — having spent five days covering only 305
miles— had half expected to hear from the pilot that the Thermopylae
had long since tied up to her wharf. To their great joy, she had done no
 159

such thing. Not for another week did she come in, logging 80 days. The
rest of the wool fleet of 1885 straggled in over the next three weeks.
The Cutty Sark, 73 days from Sydney, was the undisputed winner of
the wool race of 1885.
December 29 dawned clear and cold in London — so cold that, after
the crew had washed down the deck of their proud vessel, they had
to sweep away sheets of ice. But nothing could chill the warmth of the
jubilation that all of them felt. Old White Hat lost no time in coming to
share their triumph.
Seven weeks later, when the Cutty Sark made ready to sail on her next
voyage, he came aboard again, this time with a party of friends and a
large brown paper package. He led the visitors on a tour of the ship, then
served sandwiches and wine in the main saloon, passing out cigars and
raising a toast to Captain Woodget. Afterward, he led the party to the
quarter-deck, carrying with him the brown paper parcel. When he
opened it, out came a surprise for all — and a present for the ship herself.
It was a gilded weather vane, about three feet tall, cut in the form of

the witch's cutty sark.

Willis commanded the senior apprentice to put the weather vane in
place. Up the rigging the boy scrambled, and as he did so Old White
Hat's voice rang out across the Thames, expressing the shared excite-
The gift of a doting owner, this sheet-
ment of all those present. Echoing Tarn o'Shanter's praise for the beauti-
metal representation of a cutty sark, or ful witch, he bellowed: "Weel done, Cutty Sark."
short chemise, was instaJJed as a
weather vane on the Cutty Sark after a
record-breaking run from Sydney in
For Woodget and for the Cutty Sark, the nine years that followed their
1885. The emblem vanished 31 years later first feat together were the best years of their lives. He drove her on nine
and remained lost until I960, when it more voyages between London and Sydney, and she willingly com-
turned up for auction in London and was
bought by the Cutty Sark Society.
plied, never taking as much as 100 days (the normal length of passage
before his time), and only twice exceeding 90 days. And every year she
beat the onetime champion Thermopylae.
Not only could she beat her own kind, she could on occasion beat the
newfangled steamers that were displacing sail from the seas. On July 25.
1889, the new mail steamer Britannia came up astern of the Cutty Sark
off the coast of Australia. The winds were light, and the Britannia
steamed past. Watching her from his deck. Woodget remarked to one of
his officers, "If the wind would freshen up a bit, we would give those
passengers something to look at." A bit later the winds did pick up,
and Woodget was prepared, with all sails flying. During the night the
officer of the deck aboard the Britannia spotted riding lights he could
not identify. He so noted in the log. and then woke the captain to re-
port that a sailing ship was passing the Britannia at a speed he reck-
oned to be about 1 7 knots. The next morning, as the steamer entered Syd-
ney Harbor, her crew and passengers found to their astonishment that
the Cutty Sark was already at anchor; the men on the yardarm were
wrapping the final gaskets around her mainsail. The crew and the pas-
sengers of the Britannia joined in cheering the Cutty Sark as the
steamer slipped past her.
Woodget himself enjoyed these years to the fullest. He ran his ship his
own way, even on occasion defying Jock Willis. Willis liked to have all

his ships' boats painted black on their topsides and white underneath.
1 60 "A grand ship that will last forever"
 —

161

Inspecting the Cutty Sark one day, Willis immediately noticed that her
boats were painted all white. He confronted Woodget and demanded
to know why. "Because Woodget snapped.
they look better white,"
Old Jock understood the virtues of indulging a good commander; the
boats remained white.
Not surprisingly, Woodget had hobbies as unorthodox as some of his
orders; the only wonder is that so hard-driving a captain found time to
indulge them aboard ship. He kept a bicycle in his cabin and rode it
—
about the 'tween deck an open area between the main deck and the
cargo hold that also sometimes served him as a roller-skating rink.
Owing to the dilatory loading procedures in the Australian wool
trade, Woodget and his crew were familiar faces in Sydney. Customarily
the clippers arrived during the months of June, July and August to take
advantage of the best weather for the outbound passage; however, the
sheep in the stations of the Outback would not be sheared until Sep-
tember and October.
For the crewmen and the apprentices, the time in Australia represent-
ed an idyllic respite from the rigors of manning a clipper at sea. They
always had shore leave to enjoy the pubs and the hospitable girls of
boomtown Sydney. There were picnics on Australia's spectacular
beaches, sailboat regattas in Sydney's huge harbor and much fraterniz-
ing among the clippers.
One well-loved pastime was communal On a still evening
singing.
with the clippers gathered at their anchorage, the men of one ship would
start achantey. Soon it would be taken up on another ship, then another
and another. Presently the harbor echoed with the harmonies of a dozen
crews. Occasionally one crew would sing a verse, the entire fleet joining
in the chorus, another crew taking the next verse, and the chantey thus
proceeding through the fleet. Many of the sailors played harmonicas,
fiddles and other musical instruments, and the symphony could be
heard downwind for several miles.
Such idleness, while great sport for the seamen and the young appren-
tices, became increasingly costly for the owners. By 1895 larger sailing

ships built of steel — the windjammers — were proving sturdier and

more economical than the dainty clipper ships; they could carry six
times the tonnage with fewer than twice as many crewmen. Even more
threatening were the steamers. With improved reciprocating engines,
steamers became safer and more dependable. They could be relied on to
maintain speed over a long distance and in all kinds of weather. The
Cutty Sark might romp past the Britannia in a strong breeze, but in the
long run of an ocean voyage the steamer was an almost certain winner.
Nor were fueling problems the restraint they once had been: The estab-

'

''l*?.^ In a dramatic vindication of those who still preferred

'

5
sail to steam power, the Cutty Sark overtakes the mail steamer
M **»T'
Britannia — then reputed to be the world's fastest ship off
****•
- * ,
-
>* ^^*n the Australian coast in July 1889. Sailing at a brisk 17 knots, the
Cutty Sark passed her rival during the night— rather than
shown in this painting — and dropped anchor at
in daylight, as
¥* Sydney the next morning a half hour before the steamer.
162 "A grand ship that will last forever"

lishment of new coaling stations enabled steamships to reach almost Lying at her permanent berth in
Greenwich, EngJand, after a career of more
anywhere in the world. Toward the middle of the 1890s steamers were
than 50 years, the Cutty Sark evokes
encroaching on the wool trade, just as they had on the tea trade a dec- the majesty of the clipper breed ivith her
ade and a half before. towering masts and 10 miJes of rigging.
Not surprisingly, then, when Woodget returned to London in 1895 She is the sole survivor of the clipper era.

after a decade of sailing with the Cutty Sark, he found that Old White Hat
was selling her. Willis might still love the vessel, but he was a business-
man, and after 26 years she had served his purposes. A Portuguese firm
—
bought her for the bargain price of £2,100 scarcely 12 per cent of the
sum for which Willis had contracted to have her built. Shortly thereafter.
Woodget retired from the sea. He bought a farm in his native Norfolk,
where he raised pigs, rabbits, chickens, ducks and geese, and lived to
the ripe old age of 82.
Together with the ThermopyJae, the Cutty Sark survived as a working
vessel into the 20th Century. The Thermopylae was bought in the same
year, 1895, by the Portuguese Navy; she was renamed the Pedro Nunes
and used as a training ship. In 1907, after nearly 40 years of service
—
more than twice the life span of the usual clipper ship she was finally
judged to have had her day. She was towed to sea and given an honorable
burial— sunk in the Atlantic with all her flags flying.
The Cutty Sark, meanwhile, went right on sailing. Her new Portu-
guese owners officially gave her their family name, calling her theFer-
reira. But so firmly established was her name and her character that the

Portuguese crews continued to refer to her affectionately as thePequena

CamisoJa — a literal translation into Portuguese of the Little Chemise.
Incredibly, she was still in service as a merchant ship in 1922, at the
age of 53. That year she was driven by a Channel storm into Falmouth
harbor, where she was spied by British Captain Wilfred Dowman, a
retired sailing master who ran a training ship for boys. Although her
gold leaf had long since vanished and her bright brass was obscured by
crusted paint, the Cutty Sark worked her ineffable magic still. Dowman
had never forgotten the day when, as an apprentice aboard the clipper
Hawksdale nearly 30 years before, he had watched the graceful Cutty
Sark sail smartly past his own ship. He promptly bought her from her
—
Portuguese owners who asked and got the price of £3,750.
Dowman devoted more than a year to repairing and rerigging her, then
used her as a training ship in Cornwall. There, and later at Greenhithe,
—
Kent after Dowman's widow had given the ship to the Incorporated
Thames Nautical Training College — the Cutty Sark served to teach Brit-
ish seamen the high art of sail over a period of more than a quarter of a
century. In 1952 the Cutty Sark Preservation Society was formed under
the auspices of the Duke of Edinburgh for the purpose of restor-
ing the ship as nearly as possible to her original self. By 1954 sufficient
funds had been raised, and three tugs towed the venerable clipper on her
last voyage to a specially built dry dock in Greenwich, where the res-

toration work began.

From that day forward her tapering mast tips were to dominate the
Greenwich waterfront, calling to mind the words of her first captain,
George Moodie, who pronounced her "a grand ship, and a ship that
will last forever."
163
Down-easters: a last echo
of a vanishing tradition

A mere decade after the last tumultuous tea races, only a

handful of clippers remained at sea, aging relics of a bril-

liant but brief-blooming era of sail. In their wake, giant

steel-hulled windjammers had appeared, and this new
breed of behemoths would soon come to dominate the
world's long-distance sailing routes.
But in the seaside towns of Maine — downwind and east
of the old shipyards of New York and Boston— a proud and
crusty band of shipbuilders continued to construct wooden
vessels in the clipper tradition. These ships, called "down-
Maine origins, constituted the last genera-
easters" for their
tion of wooden square-riggers.
Though descended from the clippers in hull design and
rig, the down-easters were not so fine-lined or loftily

sparred as their glamorous American and English fore-

bears. In consequence, the hefty Maine square-riggers were
somewhat slower. But their moderately proportioned rigs
also meant that the down-easters required only a fraction of
a clipper's crew, making it far easier to turn a profit on each
voyage. And, whereas the speedy clippers of the 1850s and
1860s depended on premium cargoes of fresh-picked tea
and express freight, the down-easters carried bulk goods
such as wheat, coal and sugar, whose quality and value
were not jeopardized by a small sacrifice in time of delivery.
From the 1860s through the early 1890s, Maine's ship-
builders launched hundreds of sturdy down-easters. The
largest was the mighty Roanoke (right), built by Samuel
Sewall of Bath, Maine, in 1892. With a cargo capacity of
5,400 tons, the Roanoke was bigger than any other wooden
vessel afloat. Some 1,250,000 board feet of pine and 25,000
cubic feet of oak were used in the construction of her mas-
sive 350-foot hull — more than twice as long as the hulls of
early China clippers.
Despite her Gargantuan dimensions, theRoanoke proved
to be a good sailer that could be handled by crew of only 30
a
men, including officers. She made 10 profitable voyages to
such distant ports as Shanghai and Manila before a fire
destroyed her while she was at anchor in New Caledonia in
1905. By then, even Maine's most stubborn holdouts had
surrendered to the fashion for steel: The Roanoke was the

last wooden square-rigger Sam Sewall ever built — a fitting

farewell to a glorious tradition.

With two steam tugs securing the giant vessel to keep her
from smashing into the opposite bank of the Kennebec River on
launching, the newly completed Roanoke slips down her
ways on August 22, 1892. But, according to an account in the Bath
Daily Times, 'the ship went so fast that the hawser on the
bow of the tugs was snapped in two like tape line." The Roanoke's
crew hasti/y dropped anchor and brought the vessel to a halt.
165
166

A I (i \ew York wharf, stevedores load

the Roanoke with goods and provisions for
a voyage to Australia in 1904. The
wheellike device above the ship's rail is a
windmill with its miniature sails furled;

at sea it served to power a bilge pump.

167
168

Readying the Roanoke for departure,

a shore gang o/ professional ship riggers
starts hoisting a square sail by hand
(abovej. then uses the ship's large capstan
(right) to winch the heavy canvas up to
its yard. Altogether, the Roanoke carried
15.000 square yards of canvas on /our
masts, including a 95-foot-wide mainsail
thatweighed half a ton when dry — and
about twice as much when wet.
169
170
 171

With a full suit of sails, the Roanoke

stands out to sea in a gentle breeze. The
full-bodied vessel was slow and
difficult to handle in light ivinds, but fast
in heavy weather. In 1898 she made
a 102-day passage from San Francisco to
New York— about three weeks off
the best clipper runs but twice as fast as
an average voyage in preclipper days.
172

Bibliography

Albion, Robert Greenhalgh, The Rise of Florent. Jerry G., ed.. With All Possible lishing, 1973
New York Port. Charles Scribner's Sons, Sails Set: The Story of America's Fastest The Tea Clippers. London: Percival Mar-
1967. Clipper Ship, the Flying Cloud. Hall- shall. 1952.
Brettle,Robert E., The Cutty Sark: Her De- mark Cards, 1979. McKay. Richard C, Some Famous Sailing
signer and Builder: Hercules Linton. Howe, Octavius T., and Frederick C. Mat- Ships and Their Builder. Donald
1836-1900. Cambridge, England: thews. American Clipper Ships, 1833- McKay. G. P. Putnam's Sons. 1928.
W. Heffer&Sons. 1969. 1858. Argosy Antiquarian. 1967. Maury. Matthew Fontaine:
C
Carr, Frank G. : Klamkin, Marian, Marine Antiques. Dodd. Explanations and Sailing Directions to
"
"The Restoration of the Cutty Surk Mead. 1975. Accompany the Wind and Current
Royal Institute of Naval Architects, Lon- LaGrange, Helen, Clipper Ships of Amer- Charts. 6th ed. E. C. and J. Biddle. 1854.
don. 1965. ica and Great Britain. 1833-1869. G. P. The Physical Geography of the Sea. 2nd
"The Story of the Cutty Sark." National Putnam's Sons. 1936. ed. Harper & Brothers, 1857.
Maritime Museum, London, 1966. Laing. Alexander. The Clipper Ships and Samuels, Samuel, From the Forecastle to
Chapelle, Howard
The Search for Speed
1.. Their Makers. G. P. Putnam's Sons. the Cabin. Harper & Brothers. 1887.
under Sail. Bonanza Books, 1967. 1966. Stammers. Michael, The Passage Makers.
Chase, Mary Ellen, Donald McKay and the Lubbock. Basil: Brighton: Teredo Books, 1978.
Clipper Ships. Houghton Mifflin, 1959. The China Clippers. Glasgow: Brown. Summersell, Charles G.. The Journal of
Cutler Carl C. Greyhounds of the Sea: The Son & Ferguson, 1946. George Townley Fullam. University of
Story of the American Clipper Ship. The Log of the "Cutty Sark." Glasgow: Alabama Press. 1973.
( , Putnam's Sons. 1930.
P. Brown. Son & Ferguson. 1924. Train. George F'rancis. My Life in Many
Daniel, Hawthorne, The Clipper Ship. Lyon, Jane D. Clipper Ships and Captains.
, States and in Foreign Lands. D. Apple-
Dodd. Mead, 1928. American Heritage, 1962. ton. 1902.
Dillon, Richard H.. Bully Waterman. Rox- MacGregor. David R.: Villiers, Alan. The Cutty Sark: Last of a
burgheClub, 1956. Clipper Ships. Watford. England: Argus Glorious Era. London: Hodder and
Fairburn. William, Merchant Sail. Vols. 1- Books. 1979. Stoughton, 1953.
6. Fairburn Marine Education Founda- Fast Sailing Ships: Their Design and Wayland. John W.. The Pathfinder of the
tion. 1945-1955. Construction. 1775-1875. Heassner Pub- Seas. Garrett & Massie. 1930.

Acknowledgments

The index for this book was prepared by chives; Nadya Makovenyi, Department of long, Richard Malley. Mystic Seaport Mu-
Gale Partoyan. The editors wish to thank Exhibits. William Earl Geoghagen. Jim seum; New York, New YorkPhilip B.
the following: Roy H. Andersen, artist, and Knowles, Department of Transportation, Kunhardt Jr.. Managing Editor. Life; Esther
William A. Baker, consultant (pages 72- Division of Maritime History. Smithsonian Brumberg. Photo Librarian. Museum of the
79), John Batchelor, artist, and David R. Institution; Barbara Lynch, Navy Depart- City of New York; Sue Gillies, The New-
MacGregor. consultant (pages 140-143); ment Library, John C. Reilly Jr., Ships His- York Historical Society; George D. Win-
Bill Hezlep, artist (page 109); Peter tory, Naval Historical Center, Washington tress, Vice President. The Seamen's Bank
McGinn, artist (endpaper maps); Herbert Navy Yard. Elsewhere in the United States: for Savings; Norman Brouwer. South
Scott, artist, and William A. Baker, consul- —
Bath. Maine Ralph Linwood Snow, Di- Street Seaport Museum; Newport News.
tant (page 56). rector, Marnee Small, Assistant Curator. Virginia— Alexander C. Brown; Larry
The editors also wish to thank: In Aus- Maine Maritime Museum; Berkeley, Cali- Duane Gilmore. Assistant Curator. Depart-
tralia: Sydney— C.
L. Hume. Maritime His- fornia—James Hart, Director. The Bancroft ment of Collections. Paul Hensley. Archi-
torian. In theUnited Kingdom: London Library, University of California; Bethesda. vist, Katie Bragg. The Mariners Museum;
Vice Admiral Sir Patrick Bayly. Captain Maryland— William Blair; Boston, Massa- Salem. Massachusetts— Kathy Flynn. Pea-
A. V. Bruce, Cutty Sark Society; S. W. —
chusetts Carl Crossman, Childs Gallery; body Museum of Salem; San Francisco.
Wade. Frost and Reed; Lynn Freall, Mal- William B. Osgood, Vice President. State California — Warren R. Howell. John
colm Barr Hamilton, David Lyon, Joan Street Bank & Trust Company; Cambridge. Howell Books; Karl Kortum. Director, Ka-
Moore, Denis Stonham, National Maritime —
Massachusetts Bruce M. Lane; Clear- ren A. Kines. L. Wilson. National Maritime
Museum; Bertram Newbury, Parker Gal- water, Florida— Kenneth Savage; Kings Museum at San Francisco; Searsport.
lery; Frank G. G. Carr, World Ship Trust Point, Long Island, New York— Beverly Maine — C. Gardner Lane Jr.. Director. Pe-
Project; Brighton— Alex A. Hurst; East- Seeger, American Merchant Marine Muse- nobscot Marine Museum; Seattle. Wash-
bourne—Mabel Brettle; Guildford— Hilda um, U.S. Merchant Marine Academy; Los ington—Evelyn and T. Byron Hunt:
Cheesman; Liverpool Michael Stam- — Angeles. California— Robert A. Weinstein; Whitehall. Virginia— Susan Bryan.
mers, Merseyside County Museums; Sus- Mamaroneck, New York— Rudolph J. Valuable sources of quotations were
—
sex Leslie A. Wilcox. In France: Paris Schaefer Sr.;Marblehead. Massachu- Greyhounds of the Sea: The Story of the
Herve Cras. Director for Historial Studies, setts — F. Abbot Goodhue; John Merrow. American Clipper Ship by Carl C. Cutler.
Musee de la Marine. Director, Marblehead Historical Society; G. P. Putnam's Sons. 1930; Bully Water-
The editors also wish to thank: In the Elmira Potter; Milton, Massachusetts Dr. — man by Richard H. Dillon. The Roxburghe
United States: Washington, D.C.— Russ H. A. Crosby Forbes, Director. William Sar- Club. 1956; and Some Famous Sailing
Sherazee, John Ulrich. Defense Mapping geant. Museum of the American China Ships and Their Builder. Donald McKaj
Agency; Sharon Gibbs. Center for Polar —
Trade; Mystic, Connecticut Revell Carr. by Richard C. McKay, G. P. Putnam's Sons.
and Scientific Archives, National Ar- Director, Ben Fuller, Curator, Philip Bud- 1928.
 173

Picture Credits

Credits from left to right are separated by body Museum of Salem. 40: Peabody Mu- Museum of Salem. 102, 103: Derek Bayes.
semicolons; from top to bottom they are seum of Salem. 43: Library of Congress. 44. courtesy Fortnum and Mason. © Frost and
separated by dashes. 45: Henry Beville. courtesy Library of Con- Reed. London. 104: Peabody Museum of
Cover: Henry Groskinsky. courtesy Wil- gress. 46. 47: Courtesy Richard Parker. 49: Salem. 105: Peabody Museum of Salem—
liam L. Harrington. Front and back end- The Oakland Museum. Museum Donors' courtesy G. W. Blunt White Library. Mys-
papers: Drawing by Peter McGinn. Acquisition Fund. 50: The Metropolitan tic Seaport Museum, Inc.. Mystic. Conn.
Page 3: Derek Bayes. courtesy Cutty Sark Museum of Art. gift of I. N. Phelps Stokes. 109: Map by Bill Hezlep. Ill: National
Society. London. 6. 7: Mark Sexton, cour- Edward Hawes. Alice Mary Hawes. Mar-
S. Maritime Museum at San Francisco. 112.
tesy The Bostonian Society. 8, 9: Courtesy ion Augusta Hawes. 1937. 52. 53: Peabody 113: Peabody Museum of Salem. 114. 115:
Mystic Seaport Museum. Inc.. Mystic. Museum of Salem. 55: Courtesy The Mari- National Maritime Museum, London. 116:
Conn. 10. 11: Mark Sexton, courtesy pri- ners Museum of Newport News, Va. 56: Stephen Morton Prichard. courtesy Na-
vate collection. 12. 13: Paulus Leeser. from Courtesy Mystic Seaport Museum. Inc.. tional Maritime Museum, London. 118.
Fine Arts Collection of The Seaman's Bank Mystic. Conn.— drawing by Herbert S. 119: Peabody Museum of Salem. 122: Mary
for Savings. 14. 15: Peabody Museum of Peabody Museum of Salem. 61:
Scott. 59: Evans Picture Library. London. 123: Cour-
Salem. 16. 17: The Metropolitan Museum The Bostonian Society; Museum of the tesy William F. Baker. 124-129: Derek
of Art. Edward W. C. Arnold Collection of City of New York. 62: Tom Tracy, courtesy Bayes, courtesy National Maritime Muse-
New York Prints. Maps and Pictures, be- National Maritime Museum at San Fran- um, London. 130. 131: Royle Publications
quest of Edward W. C. Arnold. 1954. 19: cisco; Henry Groskinsky. courtesy private Ltd.. London. 132, 133: Derek Bayes, cour-
Peabody Museum of Salem. 20. 21: Courte- collection. 63: Al Freni, courtesy Mystic tesy Mabel Brettle. Eastbourne. England.
sy Mystic Seaport Museum. Inc.. Mystic. Seaport Museum. Inc.. Mystic. Conn., ex- 135: National Maritime Museum. London,
Conn. 22: Henry Groskinsky. courtesy cept bottom left, courtesy The Mariners except lower right, Derek Bayes. courtesy-
Berry-Hill Galleries. 23: Peabody Museum Museum of Newport News, Va. 64. 65: Pea- Mabel Brettle. Eastbourne. England. 136:
of Salem. 24. 25: Library of Congress. 26. body Museum of Salem. 66: Mark Sexton, Pitkin Pictorials. London — Derek Bayes.
27: NewYork State Historical Association. courtesy private collection. 68. 69: The courtesy Mabel Brettle. Eastbourne. Eng-
Cooperstown. 29: Al Freni. courtesy The Bancroft Library. University of California. land. 138: The Mansell Collection. Lon-
American Geographical Society. 30: Pea- 71: Courtesy Wm. Blair Ltd.. Inc. 72-79: don. 139: Peabody Museum of Salem. 140-
body Museum of Salem. 31: The Metro- Drawings by Roy H. Andersen. 80. 81: The 143: Drawings by John Batchelor. 146: Li-
politan Museum of Art. bequest of W. Ged- Meserve Collection. 82: Library of Con- brary of Congress. 148-154: National Mari-
ney Beatty. 1941. 32. 33: Adapted from gress. 85: The Metropolitan Museum of time Museum, London. 155: National Mar-
drawings by Howard I. Chapelle. Smithso- Art. Maria DeWitt Jesup Fund, 1949. 87: —
itime Museum. London Derek Bayes.
nian Institution. 35: Paulus Leeser. from The Mariners Museum Newport News,
of courtesy National Maritime Museum. Lon-
Fine Arts Collection of The Seaman's Bank Va. 88: Peabody Museum of Salem — cour- don. 156: National Maritime Museum.
for Savings. 37: Peabody Museum of Sa- Museum. Inc., Mystic.
tesy Mystic Seaport London. 158: Mary Evans Picture Library.
lem. 38: Henry Groskinsky. courtesy pri- Conn. 89: Peabody Museum of Salem; London. 159: Derek Bayes. courtesy Cutty
vate collection; Peabody Museum of Sa- courtesy The Mariners Museum of New- Sark Society. London. 160. 161: National
lem — The Metropolitan Museum of Art. port News, Va. — courtesy Mystic Seaport Maritime Museum. London. 163: Derek
Robert G. Goelet Gift Fund. 1967. 39: Peter Museum, Inc.. Mystic. Conn. 90. 91: Pea- Bayes. courtesy Cutty Sark Society, Lon-
Lester, courtesy Philadelphia Maritime body Museum of Salem. 92-97: Smithsoni- don. 164. 165: Maine Maritime Museum.
—
Museum. The Franklin Institute courte- an Institution. 98: The Bancroft Library. Bath. Maine. 166-171: National Maritime
sy The Essex Institute. Salem. Mass.; Pea- University of California. 100. 101: Peabody Museum at San Francisco.
174

Index

Numerals in italics indicate an illustration 67, 84. 86. 96-97; races and, 103. 104, 161, crew of, 148, figurehead for, 136,
of the subject mentioned. 107. 108. chart 109. See also San 137; atGreenwich, England, 162, 163,
Francisco, Calif. Linton's drawings of, 132-133. 136;
California Courier (newspaper), 98 weather vane for. 1 59, Woodget's photos
.Abstract Log for the Use of American Canton. China. 19.20-21, 25.28,29.31.67. of, 153-156
Navigators (Maury), 43 116; Pearl River, 29. See also Whampoa, Cutty Sark Society, 162; and weather vane.
Accidents, 29, 146. See aJso Fires; Storms China 159
Adelaide (U.S. clipper), 98 Cape Horn. 25, 34. 45. 48. 49. 57, 67;
African slave trade, clippers and, 146 icebergs near. 156, 157; races and, 106- D
Allen. Commodore T. H., 97-98 107. chart 109; storms, 51 60, 64-65. 66.
, Daily Times, Bath, Me. (newspaper), 164
America (U.S. merchant ship), 83 99,107,152.157 Dana, Richard Henry. Two Years be/ore
American, the Baltimore (newspaper), 43 Cape of Good Hope, 18, 25. 34, 36, 67, 119, the Mast. 92
American Ship (magazine), 26 132.138. 139,150, 152 Davy Crockett (U.S. clipper), figurehead
Amoy, China, 25 Cape San Diego, 65, 106 for. 62
Andrew Jackson (U.S clipper), 113 Cape Sao Roque, Brazil, 42. 51, 60; races Depression of 1857, 113
Andrews, Captain Thomas, 99 and, 105, 106, 107, chart 109 Doane. Captain Justin. 105. 107. 108
Ann McKim (U.S. ship), 23-24 Care, Captain John, 115; quoted. 115 Doldrums. 42. 59; races and. 105-106. 107.
Anyer Lor (Java). 119, 144. 145.147 Carrier Pigeon (U.S. clipper), 61 110
Ariel (British clipper), 102-103, 117-119. Carving, ship, 61-63 Donald McKay (British clipper).
120-123, 134, 137; end of, 146 Challenge (U.S. clipper). 81-83, 82. 86-87, figurehead for. 63
Arnold. Thomas, quoted, 24 90-100, 104; at Hong Kong, 100-101 Douglass. First Mate James "Black," 86.
Aspasia (U.S. clipper), model for, 56 Champion of the Seas (British clipper). 22 90-91, 93, 94-95. 96-98, 99. 100; quoted.
Aspinwall, William H., 27, 29. See also Chariot of Fame (U.S. clipper). McKay's 90,91,94.95.99
Howland & Aspinwall (NY. shippers) plans for, 52-53 Dowman. Captain Wilfred, 162
Atlantic Ocean, compared to Pacific, 45. Charmer (U.S. clipper). 61 Down-easters (Maine-built clippers), 164-
See also Gulf Stream Chesapeake Bay privateers. 23 171
Australia, 23, 130, 150, 166; gold rush, 22, China, 18, 19, 22, 23, 25, 27, 28, 30, 98, Dramatic Line ships (Collins'), 28
104; and tea trade. 147-148. See also 137; and California gold rush. 49, 51; Dumaresq, Captain Philip, barometer of.
Sydney. Australia; Wool trade British clippers and. 103. 113. 115. 116; 89
Opium War, 24-25; trade artifacts from,
B 37-40. See also Canton, China; China
Baltimore clippers, 23, 27, 33; line plan Sea; Foochow, China; Hong Kong; Elizabeth Nicholson (British clipper). 115
for. 32 Shanghai, China; Tea trade Ellen Rodger (British clipper). 115
Beaufoy, Colonel Mark, quoted. 24 China Sea, 25, 29, 36. 137; accidents and, Empress of China (U.S. ship). 37
Bell. Jacob, 52, 53 146; and Great Tea Race, 119; English Channel. 120, 157-158. 162
Bell's Life (British magazine), 103 Macclesfield Bank, 115-116. See also Enright. Captain Anthony. 115-116
Birkenshaw. Fred, 91 95, 99, 100; quoted.
. Monsoons Equator. 42; crossing of. 41 60. 67. 157;
.

95 Cholera, 148 races and. 105.108,109, 113.120

Blackadder (British clipper), 149 Chrysolite (British clipper), 103.113, 115- Eugenie, Empress (France), 130. 138
Bludgeon (sailor's), 87 116,134 Explanations and Sailing Directions
Boole, John, 53 City of Bombay (British East Indiaman), (Maury). 43. 45. 56. 88. 105. 106
Boston, Mass.. McKay's shipyard at. 46-47, 120
54,55.111 Civil War (U.S.), 146; clippers in, 112-113
Boston Daily Atlas, The (newspaper), 6, 13 Clipper ships: building of, 72-79; naming Farallon Islands (San Francisco Bay). 67.
Britannia (British packet), 31. 34 of, 21-22; passengers on. 124-129, 96. 108
Britannia (British steamer), 159, 160-161 speeds of. 6. 23, 29, 34, 36, 41, 45, 66. 67. Ferreira (Cutty Sark). 162
British clippers, 6,21. 22-23. 63. 71. 85, See also Accidents; British clippers; Fiery Cross (British clipper). 115. 117.118-
103, 113,115-117, 124,125-129, 132- — vs. clippers; U.S. clippers;
Steamships 119.120. 123
133, 134; of Alexander Hall and Sons, Windjammers — vs. clippers Figureheads, 61,62-63; of Cutty Sark. 136.
114-115; captains of, 138,144-145; Coal, as cargo, 144 137
crews of, 144-145; flogging on, 92; races Codrington (U.S. ship), line plan for, 32 Fire, 112.146. 164
between, 117-123, 130-131, 137, 138. Coghill, Second Mate Alexander. 86, 93 Flags: of N.Y. shipping firms. 35; signal.
149, 152. 157-159, 160-161; vs. U.S. Collins. Edward Knight. 28 89
clippers, 71, 113, 115-116. See also Colorado (U.S. merchantman). 145 Flogging, 92
Clipper ships; Cutty Sark (British Conrad. Joseph, quoted, 61 Flying Cloud (U.S. clipper). 21. 55-60.59,
clipper) Cooper. James Fenimore. quoted, 92 64-67,66,68-69, 81; end of, 146; races
British East India Company. 24, 70; Creesy. Eleanor. 56, 59, 60, 65, 66 and, 104,110.113
warehouse, 122. See also Tea trade Creesy. Josiah Perkins (Perk), 56-60, 64-67, Flying Dutchman (Cutty Sark crewman).
British merchant marine, 70 146; quoted, 57, 58, 59, 60. 65. 67; 144. 145. 147
British Navigation Acts, 70 trumpet of, 65 Flying Fish (U.S. clipper). 105. 106. 107-
British Royal Navy. 23 Crimps, 84, 86, 96 108. chart 109. 110. 113; end of. 146;
Brooklyn Navy Yard, McKay at, 53-54 Currents, 42-43, 45; chow-chow, 116. 118; sailing card. 105
Brown & Bell (N.Y. shipyard). 28, 53 races and, 106 Foochow, China. 25. 146; Pagoda
Bruce, Captain William H.. 147-148 Currier, William, 54 Anchorage. 116-1 18. 1 See also
18-1 19.
Burns. Robert, quoted, 130 Currier & Ives (lithograph publishers), Min River
Buttersworth, J. E.. paintings by. 6-15, 66 portrait commissioned by. 14-15 Fowler, Captain Robert Warrender. 147
Cutty Sark (British clipper). 130-131. 134. Francis. )ohn. 144. 145. 147
137-138. 144-162, 150-151; before 1880 Fraser, Captain George. 51; as First Mate.
Calcutta. India, 147. See also India alterations, 140-143; bell of, 3; vs. quoted. 36. 41
California: gold rush. 22. 45, 48-19, 51 57, , Britannia (British steamer), 159, 160- Frigates, 23
 , , 3

175

Japan. See Yokohama, Japan Moodie, Captain George. 134 135. 137,
Galatea (U.S. clipper), figurehead for, 63 Japan Current, 45 138,139,149, 152
Game Cock (U.S. clipper), 61 Java, 36. 119. 120; Head. 36; Sea, 115. 145 Moore. Captain Francis William, 139, 149
Gertrude (U.S. clipper). 45 John Gilpin (U.S. clipper). 105, 106, 107, Moore, Captain Frederick, 149
Glory of the Sea (U.S. clipper), figurehead 108-109, chart 109; burning of. 146; Mozambique Current. 45
for, 62 sailing card. 105
Gold rushes, 22. See also California— gold John L. Stephens (U.S. steamer). 68-69 N
rush N. B.Palmer (U.S. clipper). 98; binnacle
Golden Gate (San Francisco Bay), 48, 51 boy of, 61
66. 67, 68-69, 96; and races, 108, 109 Keay, Captain John, 120-123; quoted. 118. Nanking, Treaty of (1842). 24
Golden State (U.S. clipper), cover 119,121 Nashville (Confederate side-wheeler). 112-
Gordon. Captain Joseph, 115-116 Kemble, P'anny, 111 113
Great Republic (U.S. clipper), 14-15, 111- Kennebec River (Maine), 164-165 Natchez (U.S. packet). 19, 30, 34. 81
113; burning of, 112; figurehead for. 63; Kentledge (scrap iron), 117,119 Navesink Highlands. N.J.. 18
sinking of, 146 Neptune's Car (U.S. clipper), 99
Great Tea Race (1866), 102- 103, 117-123. New Caledonia, 164
118-119 Land. Captain John, 29, 98, 99, 100; New York (U.S. packet), lines plan for, 33
Green, Richard, quoted. 103 quoted, 30 New York Harbor. 18-19. 34. 56; Challenge
Greenwich, England. Cutty Sark at, 162, Lessig, George, 94 and, 81-83, 86; waterfront. 16-17,
163 Lightning (British clipper), 21, 85 wharves. 80-81. 85. 166-167. See also
Griffiths. John Willis, 24-25. 26, 27, 29, 31. Lines plans (marine architectural Sandy Hook. N.J.
33,41,45. 146; and McKay, 53. 54; drawings), 32-33 New York Herald, The, 19, 28
quoted, 57, 61. See also Sea Witch (U.S. Linton, Hercules, 134, 135. 152; drawings New York shipping firms, flags of, 35
clipper) by, 132-133, 136 Nickels. Captain Edward. 105-106, 107,
Grinnell. Minturn & Co. (N.Y. shipping Lloyd's Register, London, 143 109.110
firm). 55. 67; flag of. 56 Longfellow, Henry Wadsworth: "The Nickerson, Captain John, telescope of. 88
Grinnell. Moses, 55; quoted, 55 Building of the Ship." Ill; quoted. 55- Nightingale (U.S. clipper), 85
Griswold. Charles. 98 56 Ninghsien, China. 25
Griswold. N. L. & G. (shipping firm), 81. Lord Macaulay (British clipper). 115 North America (U.S. clipper), telescope of,
96.98.100 Low, A. A., & Bro.. 28; flag of. 35; and 88
Guano, as cargo, 146 Great Republic, 112; ships of, 30, 51.57 Nutsford, Captain Daniel. 117
Gulf Stream, 41. 43. 45. 57-58 Low, Captain Charles and Sally. 98-99
Guy Mannering (U.S. packet), 86 Low, William H.. 28 O
Lowe, Dr. Abraham T.. Sailor's Guide to Opium War (China). 24-25
H Health. 88 Oriental (U.S. clipper), 70. 71 , 103; sinking
Half-hull model. 56-57, 72 Lynx (U.S. ship), lines plan for, 32 of, 146
Hall, Alexander, and Sons (British
shipbuilders), 114-115. 134 M
Hall. James and William. 14-115
1 Macao (Portuguese), 19, 30. 34; harbor Pacific Ocean, compared to Atlantic. 45
Hallowe'en (British clipper), 147 view, 40 Palmer, Captain Nathaniel B. (Nat). 27-29.
Harvey Birch (Union clipper), 112-113 McDonnell. Captain Charles, 127, 128, 129 30.41.45.55.70. 112. 146; quoted. 31
Hastings & Gleason (Boston carvers). 61 McKay, Albenia Boole, 53. 54 Palmer. Ted, 70
Hawksdale (British clipper). 162 McKay. Donald, 50. 51-55.57,67. 110-112. "Pathfinder of the Seas." 45. See also
Hays. Jack, quoted. 99 146; plans drawn by, 52-53; quoted, 51 Maury, Lieutenant Matthew Fontaine
Hero (U.S. sloop), 27 54, 110; ships built by. 6-7. 10-11. 12-13. Patten. Captain Joshua. 99
Hong Kong, 19. 25, 29, 34.41. 70, 71, 99, Cloud (U.S.
14-15, 85. See also Flying Patten. Mary Ann. 99; quoted. 99
116. 119, 147;ChaIlenge at. 100-101 Republic (U.S. clipper)
clipper); Great Paul /ones (U.S. packet). 27. 28. 29
Houqua (Cantonese merchant), 31 McKay, Lauchlan, 51. 112 Pedro Nunes (Portuguese ship). 162. See
Houqua (U.S. ship), 28-29.30. 31, 112; end McKim, Isaac, 23-24 also Thermopylae
of, 146 McKinnon. Captain Donald. 117.119.120- Pequena Camisola (Cutty Sark). 162
Hornet (U.S. clipper), 146 123 Philippines. 148. 149; Manila. 164
Howland. William E., 27. See also Maine, down-easters built in. 164-171 Phinney, Captain, quoted, 45
Howland & Aspinwall (N.Y. shippers) Malay 116
pirates. 36, Photography. Woodget and. 153-156
Howland & Aspinwall (N.Y. shippers), 25. Manila, Philippines. 164 Physical Geography of the Sea. The
28, 29, 30-31; flag of, 35; ships of, 18-19, Marshall. Captain Charles. 34 (Maury), 43
24 Marshall, James. 45 Pirates,and China trade. 36. 116
Hurricane (U.S. clipper), 21 Marston, W. C.,90 Polk. President James K.. quoted. 48
Mauritius, 119, 120 Portugal, and Cutty Sark. 162. 163
Maury. Lieutenant Matthew Fontaine. 41- Portuguese Navy. 162
Icebergs (Cape Horn), 156. 157 45, 43, 51 56. 59. 60. 65. 88. 146; chart
. Privateers. 23. 32
Illustrated London News, 158 by, 44-45, and China trade. 116; quoted. Putnam. Captain George. 105. 106-108,
India, clippers and, 147. 148.149 42-43,45.57, 105-106, 108. 109-110; and 109; quoted. 106. 107
Indian Ocean, 25, 34, 36, 71;Cutty Sark races, 104-106. 108, 109-110
and, 137. 144. 148, 150; and Great Tea Mediterranean Sea, 130
Race (1866). 119 Melbourne. Australia. 148 Queen of the Clippers (U.S. clipper). 21
Innes. (Captain George, 117 Memnon (U.S. clipper). 49. 51. 115-116
Island Queen (British steam tug), 118. 119 Meteor (U.S. clipper). 21
Min River. 116. 118, 119. 121. 146. See Railroads, vs. shipbuilding. 1 1

I also Foochow. China Rainbow (U.S. ship). 25. 27. 28. 29. 30. 31,
Jackson, Captain, 43 Mississippi (I '.S clipper), 88 34. 53; end of. 146
James Baines (British clipper), 124. 125- Monsoons, 29. 31. 34,43, 116, 119 Realm (U.S. ship), 106.107
129 Moodie, Alexander. 139 Red Gauntlet (IS lipper),99 <
176

Red Sea. 130. 132 160-161. 161-162; designs for. 57 clippers

Rennie. John. 135 Storms. 30. 43.45. 104, 146; English U.S. District Court.San Francisco. 99-100
Revolutionary War. 23 Channel. 162; Gulf Stream. 57-58; Indian U.S. merchant marine. 13
Rio de Janeiro, Brazil 42 43. 60. 90
. .
Ocean, 137. See also Cape Horn- U.S. Navy. 41-42. 43. 110. 112. 144
Roanoke (U.S. down-easter), 164-171 storms
Robinson, Captain Richard. 117 Stornoivay (British clipper), 103, 113. 134 W
Robson.Tony, 155 Strait of LeMaire. 65,99, 106-107. chart WM.D.C. Wrigfri (U.S. bark). 43
Rodger & Co. (British shipowners). 123 109 Wakeman. Captain Edgar and Mary. 98-99
Studding sails (stunsails), 31,41 Wallace, Captain James Smith. 144-145.
Suez Canal. 130, 132. 137.138. 139. 149 147
Sacramento (U.S. clipper), medicine chest Sunda Strait. 36. 119. 144. 145. 148 War of 1812.23.27. 32
from. 89 Surprise (U.S. clipper), 57. 67 Waterman. Captain Robert "Bully.'' 19-20.
Senior's Guide to Health (Lowe). 88 Sutherland, Hughie. 116 30.31.34.36.41,45.51. 104; and
Samuel Russell (U.S. clipper). 51 Sword Fish (U.S. clipper), 113 Challenge. 81-83. 86-87. 90-100; quoted.
Samuels. Captain Samuel, quoted. 84 Sydney, Australia. 148, 152. 153. 157. 159. 81.83.90.94. 100
San Francisco. Calif.. 48. 49. 51 67. 68-69.
. 161; Circular Quay. 150-151 Webb. Isaac. 51-52
96-97, ill, 171; Challenge at. 81. 84. 95. Webb. William, ships built by. 8-9. 33.
96-100; races and. 104. 105, 108-10'). 82
chart 109, 113. See also California; Taeping (British clipper). 102-103, 117, Weldon. Charles. 95
Golden Gate 119. 120-123; end of. 146 Westward Ho (U.S. clipper). 10-1
Sandy Hook..\. J.. 18. 19. 29. 41. 56. 86. See Taitsing (British clipper). 117, 119, 123 Whales, location of. 43
also New York Harbor Tea trade. 18,22. 25,31. 104,132,133. Whampoa. China, 19; Reach. 37
Scott, William. 134 152. 164; Australia and. 147-148; British White Squall (U.S. clipper). 21
Scott & Linton's shipyard (Dumbarton. and, 67, 70-71. 113. 116-117.122-123. Whitmore, Captain Jacob D.. 1 15
Scotland). 132-133 Chinese tea chest. 23; Great Tea Race Wilcox, Leslie A., painting by. cover
Sea Serpent (British clipper), 115 (1866). 102-103. 117-123. 118-119; Wild Pigeon (U.S. clipper). 105. 106-107.
Sea Witch (U.S. clipper), 18-19, 20, 31, 34. loading diagram, 1 16; steamers and, 108, chart 109; sailing card. 104; sinking
36.41.51.53.55.57, 71.81. 103; lines 138, 139, 149. 152 of. 146
plan for. 33 Thames River, and Great Tea Race (1866). Willis. Jock. 130. 132-134.135. 137. 138.
Serica (British clipper). 117. 119. 123 121-123 144. 145. 147. 149. 150. 159. 161. 162;
Sewall. Samuel, Roanoke built by. 164-171 Thermopylae (British clipper), 130-131 quoted. 150. 159
Shanghai, China. 25. 119. 130. 137. 139, 133. 134. 137. 138. 149. 152, 158-159, Willis. John. & Son. 133
144.148, 164 162 Willis. Robert. 138
Shaw. Maxton & Co. (British shipowners). Thompson, George, 133 Wind and Current Charts (Maury). 43. 56.
123 Tides. 45; and races. 104.106. 122 88.105
Singapore, 147 Timber, ad for. 55 Windjammers, vs. clippers. 161 164
.

Smith, George, 90 Times, The, London, 70-71 Winds. Maury's chart of. 44-
45, 157-158;
Smith. First Mate Sidney (alias), 144, 145, Tiptaft. Captain William Edward, 139. 144 45; and races. 106. See also Doldrums;
147; quoted. 144 Trade winds. 42. 43, 45, 60, 67. 90; and Monsoons; Trade winds
Smith & Dimon (shipbuilding company). races, 108. 109. 119-120. See also Winds Withers. Alfred, quoted. 124. 125. 126.
24,25,26-27. 29,30.31,53 Train. Enoch. 54. 55 127.128,129
Smiti. Ions (Tons Miti), 94, 100 Train. George Francis, quoted. 22. 55 Withers. Madge. 124, 126
Smuggling. 23 Tweed (British ship). 134. 149 Women aboard clippers, 98-99, 124. 126.
South .America (U.S. packet), 34 Two Years before the Mast (Dana). 92 See also Creesy. Eleanor
Sovereign of the Seas (U.S. clipper), 6-7, Woodget. Captain Richard. 149-150. 152.
21, 113 U 153, 157-159. 161-162; and crew. 148:
StagHound (U.S. clipper). 12-13. 21.54, U.S. clippers. 6-15; beginnings of. 23-31. photos by. 153-156; quoted. 150. 152.
55.61 32-33; vs. British clippers. 71. 113. 115- 156.159.161
Star of Empire (U.S. clipper). McKay's 116; captains' equipment. 88-89; Wool trade (Australian). 148. 149.150-151.
plans for, 52-53 captains of. 84-86. 90-100. 146; in Civil 152, 159. 161;London warehouse. 158;
Staten Island (Argentina). 65. 106. 107, War. 112-1 13; crews of, 83-84,85. 86-87. steamers and. 162: wool race of 1885.
chart 109 90-100; crews' possessions, 90. 91; 152.157-159
Steam hoist. 54. 55 decline in. 113; down-easters. 164-171;
Steam saw. 54, 55 flogging on, 92; half-hull model, 56-57;
Steamships: vs. clippers. 23, 66, 69, 130, races between. 103-110, chart 109, 113. Yokohama, Japan. 30. 144. 145
132, 137. 138. 139. 144. 146. 149. 159. See also Clipper ships; Women aboard YoungAmerica (U.S. clipper). 8-9

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