LIFE AT SEA

Wairarapa Times-Age, 4 November 1938, Page 7

LIFE AT SEA

NEW ZEALANDERS’ EXPERIENCE VOYAGE ON SAILING SHIP. TO IRELAND VIA CAPE HORN. Life on a sailing ship has no mysteries now for Mr M. D. Ellingham, of Takapuna. He has arrived in London after sailing with the Finnish four-masted barque, Moshulu, from Port Victoria, Australia, to Belfast Ireland. The voyage lasted 121 days, and Mr Ellingham, who is 26, and who signed on as an apprentice “for adventure.” says that it is an experience that he will never forget. His adventures included being nearly knifed by one of the crew who was mentally unbalanced; nearly being flung to the deck from aloft when the same man in a fit of anger knocked a foot rope away; suffering from beriberi, the “deficiency disease” common among sailors' 100 years ago, caused by pool’ diet; wearing five sweaters and oilskins south of Cape Horn, but still feeling cold, and spending lazy days painting the ship’s name on lifebelts and boats in tropical waters.

Mr Ellingham, who was a member of the Vamp, the New Zealand 14foot yacht which won the Australian championship earlier this year, first heard of the Moshulu, the largest square-rigged ship in commission today, with a displacement of 5400 tons, when he was in Sydney. 'He went to Port Victoria, near Adelaide, and signed on as an apprentice, paying a fee of £25, and thereby becoming entitled" to 10s a month pay. SCANDINAVIAN CREW. The captain and crew, with the exception of an American, were all Finnish or Norwegian, working for mates' tickets, and who had signed on with the Moshulu in the course of fulfilling a term of two years on a sailing ship. Mr Ellingham said that they were of a fine type, friendly, and inclined to be excitable in times of emergency. There was one English passenger on board.

All orders were given in Swedish, and although Mr Ellingham was not familiar with the language, he was soon able to follow them. His initial difficulty was in learning his duties since no instructions were given. He was expected to obey orders and to do his work, learning as he went along. The average day was 12 hours, in watches, the work consisting of furling or changing sail, taking the wheel, scraping teak, or painting. Spare time was spent in reading, playing chess, listening to a gramophone, and talking. Including the captain, there were 30 men on board, and Mr Ellingham shared a small cabin with 10 others-. Everyone got on remarkably well together, but they had to watch one of the Finns, who was mentally unbalanced. He was inclined to lose his temper quickly. One day, when the New Zealander was standing nearby, the Finn swung at him with a knife, missing by a narrow margin. On another occasion the Finn knocked a man from the upper top-gallant sail. A quick grab at a foot rope of the lower top-gallant saved his life. Mr Ellingham also found the foot rope knocked out of his reach on one occasion, and thereafter refused to go aloft with the Finn.

The Moshulu was loaded with 4768 tons of wheat, and on Sunday, April 24, as Port Victoria dropped out of sight, all hands looked on land for the last time until Queenstown. Ireland, was reached 121 days later. “We drowned away south immediately,” Mr Ellingham said, “below Tasmania, which we did not see'. But before we could set properly under way, after leaving Port Victoria, the wind changed, and we had to anchor for five days, waiting for a favourable breeze. A TURN AT THE WHEEL. “One of my first jobs was to. take a turn at the wheel. I had not been told that a wave breaking on the rudder would cause it to spin, and I was unprepared when the wheel suddenly lifted me from one side of the deck to the other, and the ship was nearly taken aback. Another early job was making six trips to the top of the mizzen mast in one day, nearly 200 feet each time. “We soon settled down to the life, and the wind began to blow us along. Some days we made 11 knots —our record for the trip was 13 knots —and other days we would hardly make headway. As we neared the Horn, the decks were constantly awash, and the weather became cold and wet.

“We passed the 43 days after leaving Port Victoria, rounding it 30 miles south at midnight on June 9. Up to that time we had had little snow, and the only signs of life were albatrosses, which the boys would catch,, photograph, and release, and a few whales, which would swim alongside the ship. We saw one iceberg, and had two Fridays, May 13. On the second thirteenth, the main upper top-gallant sail blew out. “At one time it got so cold that I wore five woollen sweaters, flannel trousers, big rubber sea boots, an,d oilskins. When turning in for sleep, the oilskins only were removed, and three blankets were added!! We struck the coldest weather after rounding the Horn and going up to the Falklands. After that we picked up the trade winds, which carried us across the line. That was on a beautifully sunny day. July 13, and wo saw our first vessel for 75 days, a Polish ship called the. Polaski. beri-beri. “The next day I had the first signs of beri-beri, the sailors’ deficiency disease. I did not feel unwell, but my ankles were badly swollen, and if I pressed them with a finger the dent would show for five minutes. I had to report to the captain. He change my’ diet and ordered me to rest for five days. “Up to then I had found the food monotonous and uninteresting. Foi breakfast we would have salt pork and potatoes, good baked bread, and Swedish coffee. Two small tins of condensed milk had to last 11 men a week and we had half a litre of sugar a week each. For dinner we had flapjacks, potatoes, and ‘salt horse,’ or salted buffalo from the Argentine, followed by a pudding of potato flour and dried apples. Occasionally there was a change to rice and prunes. Tea represented the remains of dinner cooked into meat balls, with any amount of bread and butter. The butter lasted to the Horn, and after that we had margarine. We were always so hungry

that the dullness of the food did not worry us much. “As soon as I began to show signs of beri-beri, I was given eggs, cocoa, condensed milk, rye bread biscuits, and everything of the best from the captain’s larder. This made the other boys rather envious, and I enjoyed the food more, since I felt really well. Nobody else got beri-beri. They must have become accustomed to the food on the voyage out. “Once we struck the trade winds, life was ideal. The sails required little handling, the ship bowled along, and we painted, scraped teak, or scrubbed decks. Some days we were becalmed, and there were days in the doldrums when we made only a few miles. For the latter part of the voyage. 1 was appointed a day man, being taken out of the watch to attend to the captain's motor-boat, and to use my brush for signwriting the name of the ship on lifebuoys and boats. “A confirmation of passing the Azores was the appearance of a small martin on deck. We never saw the islands, but gradually made for the Irish coast, .until we picked up the Galley Light. We anchored six miles off Cork on August 23. where the captain received orders to take the wheat to Belfast. I took the captain ashore in the motor-boat at Queenstown, and we were eight days beating up the coast to Belfast, where I signed off.” Mr Effingham is now in London. He plans to buy a car and to tour England and Scotland for two months before returning to Takapuna. He hopes to arrive home in time for Christmas. “It was a great experience, sailing in the Moshulu.” he said, “but I would think twice about doing it again. It was very uncomfortable rounding the Horn, continually wet, and the decks awash. Wo were sometimes miserable with the cold. But I am thoroughly glad that I made the trip.”