BYRD’S SEND OFF.

Hokitika Guardian, 19 October 1928, Page 8

BYRD’S SEND OFF.

STOUT SHIP FOR ANTARCTIC PERILS. NEW YORK, August 25. A little barque, her yards akimbo, her stout sides wallowing through the lumpy waters of the Hudson, put out from Hoboken yesterday afternoon and churned her way slowly down the harbour. She was Commander Richard E, Byrd’s ice ship, The City of New York, the first vessel of the expedition to get away on the long trip to the Antarctic. Her decks were crowded, relatives of the crew and friends of Commander Byrd having come down to bid the barque farewell. They clustered on after deck, almost biding the helmsmen who worked under the direction of a pilot, conning the ship from the roof of the deckhouse. Odds and ends of gear, tl.ie last bits of cargo, were all over the deck, but they were overlooked for the time being. When the lines were ready to cast off, sharp at noon, when it had been announced that she would sail, an unexpected hitch developed. Somebody had permitted .four barges to tie up abreast behind the City of New York,

iween the ship and and the river It was impossible to get the ship out while they were there, for if her stern had been eased out there was danger of the bowsprit punching a hole in the warehouse on the wharf.

What to do? The Sandy Hook pilot on the deckhouse fumed* and Captain Frederick C. Melville, of the City of New York, looked as if he would like to sink all barges.

Commander Byrd finally jumped into action and went back to ask the captains of the barges'to get out of the way with the aid of a New York Central tug, which volunteered for the service. Tlie dockmaster was roundly scored, the lines of the barges were cast off and they were moved over to the other side of the slip. The City of New York backed out in tow of the city ship Macom, which "-os lashed alongside. The Macom has welcomed many famous people to New York. She has borne Lindbergh and Chamberlain and Byrd himself up t l n harbour, but this time she was used to speed the parting hero and not welcome him.

And she did her job just as enthusiastically. Her siren roared and howled and shattered people’s eardrums. She snorted and puffed and pulled or the lines that lashed her to the contrast m seagoing vessels, a barque with squared yards. It was as if one century in ships was tied to another, for the days of ships on which men swarm aloft and let go the stops on square sails has passed almost into limbo.

Hack into the river the two boats moved, and whistles on vessels all around called hail and farewell to the trim little barque.

A few dock's away a huge liner was, being eased from her slip. Her whistle deep and authoritative, grumbled out a call of comradeship. Tugs tooted and ferry boats, their decks lined with waving arms, called their good-byes. Somehow a little of this excitement, of the beginning of an epic adventure, caught at one’s emotions and there was a thrill of exaltation.

The two ships turned downstream, and the Maeom’s engines were shut down. The City df New York chugged her way forward, hauling her attendant boat with her, and no slower vessel ever has gone to sea. Commander Byrd stood on the top of the deckhouse, with Captain Melville.

, The trim lines of the little barque could be seen all the better once she Vas out in the river. The waves curled up over a forefoot lined with steel. Her sides ran down in steps that marked the increasing thickness of sheeting, which was more than 33 inches of tough wood. Swells broke against hex* as if she were a rock. The smaller Macom bounced up against her sides and off again with shocks that made, her tremble, but the barque never moved.

A solid ship, a stout ship, is the City of New York. Down to the Battery she made her way, other boats saluting her as she went. The round insignia on her funnel and the words Byrd Antarctic Expedition made her known, even if her strange appearance did not indicate that only a ship bound for adventure was leaving the’harbour. Her hand played “Auld Lang Syne” and “ Till We Meet Again,” and the small ship, with its yellow yards and white sides, kept on her course that will bring her one day against a harrier of ice under a. glistening blue sky, where the only sound is the call of tin gulls—the Antaretie.