Sailor OFF THE PAMIR

Korero (AEWS), Volume 2, Issue 7, 10 April 1944, Page 24

Sailor OFF THE PAMIR

A KORERO Report

HE was a sailor off the “ Pamir,” and proud of it. Not just proud of being a sailor, but proud of his ship, the

“ Pamir,” the only square-rigged sailingvessel New-Zealanders see these days. When he talked, it was to tell you something about his shipthe significant dates in her history ; her length, 316 ft. ; her beam, 46 ft. ; her masts, 168 ft. off the deck. She carries 45,000 square feet of canvas ; a good sailer in light winds ; all steel and can take anything that’s going. And much more similar detail. But if you wanted to know anything about himself you got it only by a process of persistent question and reluctant answer.

This young New-Zealander was working for an insurance company in Wellington a couple of years ago. The life was a quiet one, and he didn’t like it. Then a chance came to sail in the “ Pamir,” and he took it. The life there is a tough one, comparatively at any rate, but it’s the kind of life that appeals to this young

man, and he intends to continue with it until he can sit for his ticket.

A four-masted barque of 2,799 tons gross register, the “ Pamir is a small ship by comparison with the great steam and motor liners that carry on New Zealand’s overseas trade to-day. Yet the sight of her masts and yards towering above her modern sisters is one that fascinates and stirs the imagination. Steam has been used at sea for little more than a century ; but sails were used to propel the excellent ships developed in the Mediterranean 2600 B.C. The people of the British Isles understood the advantages of sail before the advent of Julius Caesar. The British Empire was largely built in the sailing-ship era. And the “ Pamir ” is one of the few survivors of that age.

The “ Pamir ” was launched from the Blohm and Voss yard in Hamburg in October, 1905, for F. Laiesz, of that city. Laiesz had a great fleet of sailing-ships which were for many years the chief

ships in the Chilean nitrate trade. His ships were well-built, well-found, wellmanned and hard-driven. Among seamen the world over they were noted as fast passage-makers. P was the initial letter of the names of all the ships in the fleet, which was generally known as the “ Flying P. Line.”

In its palmy days, before the last war, the Laiesz fleet included two famous ships, the five-masted barque “ Potosi,” of 4,026 tons gross register, and the fivemasted ship “ Preussen,” of 5,081 tons. The “ Preussen ” was 433 ft. long and carried a cargo of 8,000 tons. Her five masts crossed thirty yards, and she spread forty-eight sails, measuring 59,000 square feet of canvas. Her main mast was more than 210 ft. in height from keel to truck, her lower yards were 102 ft. long, and her royal yards just short of 50 ft.

The “ Potosi ” was one of the few sailing-ships that ever rounded Cape Horn four times in twelve months. Between March 15, 1900, and March 6, 1901, this splendid ship completed two round voyages between Hamburg and Iquique (Chile). She went out in ballast and home with full cargoes of nitrate, eleven days in each voyage being her “ turn-round ”in Iquique. On the second of these voyages she discharged her cargo of 6,000 tons in seven days, completing on 13th March, just within the twelve months.

The “ Pamir ” joined a company of proud ships when she made her maiden voyage in 1906, and she proved herself as fast as any of them. She went out from Hamburg to Valparaiso in sixty-four days and home from Iquique in seventyfive. And her subsequent voyages in the nitrate trade were consistent with the reputation of the Flying P Ships for good sailing.

The last war meant for the “ Pamir,” with the rest of the Laiesz fleet, more than four years of idleness in port. Then, in 1919, the P ships became spoils of war and were distributed among various ownerships. The “ Pamir,” with three others, went to the Italians.

But Laiesz was not defeated. He bought back as many of the ships as he could get and set about building others.

The “ Pamir,” with “ Parma,” “ Peiho,” “ Passat,” ” Pinnas,” and “ Peking,” returned to their old flag, and by 1922 the famous P line was once more in existence. In 1919 Laiesz built the “ Priwall ” and as recently as 1926 the “ Padua.” The “ Pamir ” celebrated her return to the fleet by making, in 1925, the smartest outward passage round the Horn since the war—from Hamburg to Talcahuano in seventy-five days. But the days of sailing-ships in the nitrate trade, even those of the P line, were numbered. Once more the Laiesz fleet, except the four-masters built after the war, was dispersed. The “ Pamir,” and several of her kind and age, passed to the ownership of Captain Gustav Erikson, of Mariehamn, and the flag of Finland. They became Ishmaels of the oceans, sailing many a long passage in ballast to find a modest freight. Occasionally the “ Pamir ” sailed in the so-called “ grain race ” from Australia to the Channel, but for a year or so she earned her keep and a little over carrying cargoes of guano from the Seychelles Islands in the Indian Ocean. It was one of these voyages that brought her to Wellington early in 1942. It was bad luck for her owner that his country was on Germany’s side in the war : the Pamir was transferred to the New Zealand flag, a prize of war for the second time. The " Pamir ” was in a sad state when she was taken overpoverty-stricken and “ parish-rigged.” Her hull was sound enough, but her standing and running rigging was in bad shape. She needed a special survey and a thorough refit, and she got them. There was plenty of freight available, and even an old sailingship would serve to carry some of it in an ocean whose vast expanse kept war hazards within bounds. And so the “ Pamir ” in her old age was rejuvenated by a general overhaul at considerable cost. All defects revealed by careful survey— they were many were made good, much of her rigging was renewed, and the accommodation for the crew was considerably improved. As handsome as ever, the “ Pamir ” was sound and seaworthy and thoroughly well-found when she once again proudly

put to sea. In her crew of forty, Finland still has one representative. There is also one Dane. But the other thirty-eight, including the master, are New-Zealanders.

Since the ” Pamir ” fell to New Zealand she has made slow passages and some not so slow. Her shortest period at sea has been fifty-eight days ; her longest eightytwo days. And in all her voyages under the New Zealand flag she has seen not more than three or four ships at sea. For the crew, life on board is very good when the trade winds help the ship along, but in the doldrums the men have to work most of the time swinging the yards to catch whatever wind there is. Most of the spare time they do get in the doldrums thev spend in sleeping, but they do take time out sometimes to fish and play.

Besides sharks, they catch a fish called bonita, which probably holds the speed record among the aquatic population. The bonita is a streamlined fellow, blue on both sides and silver underneath, and he’s very good to eat. His flesh is like fresh steak, so you can imagine how welcome a few meals off him would be after some weeks at sea. He needs his speed to live because he eats flying-fish, which he will follow, and catch, above the surface of the sea. All that’s needed to land him is a piece of cotton on a hook dragged just above the water. Occasionally, to help pass the time in the doldrums, the sailors catch an albatross. The trap for these birds is a triangular piece of tin with meat fastened round it. This is tossed overboard on the end of a line, and the albatross obligingly

puts his beak through it. Since the beak is soft, the tin sinks into it and the albatross is a prisoner. He is hauled up on board; perhaps his wing span is measured, and [presently he is allowed to fly away again. Sailors don’t kill albatrosses. Apparently they still remember the fate of the Ancient Mariner ! An interesting fact about the Common or Wandering Albatross, apparently, is that the only place it is found north of the line is in the seas that wash the coast of Asia to the south of Behring Strait. According to the sailor off the “ Pamir,” you can’t take an albatross alive from the southern to the northern hemisphere. He says the National Geographic Society offered a useful sum of money to any one who managed to do this, and attempts had been made, by aircraft and by ship, but the albatrosses always died once they had crossed the line. What is it like to go aloft in a sailing-ship? “Well, you’re scared stiff at first. You think everything you touch is going to break. You think that every roll is going to pitch you to the deck or into the sea. But nothing breaks, and nobody gets hurt.”