On the line https://ontheline.rmg.co.uk/ontheline A Royal Museums Greenwich Blog Fri, 15 Aug 2014 10:34:53 +0000 en-US hourly 1 https://wordpress.org/?v=4.5.3 Every month, On the line serves up a selection of short stories from Maritime Greenwich – all told by the people who work here. Pick ‘n’ mix from tales of time-keeping, star-gazing and all things ship-shape. And listen in as we meet the curators, conservators and cataloguers who look after the Museum’s collection. National Maritime Museum National Maritime Museum dedwards@rmg.co.uk dedwards@rmg.co.uk (National Maritime Museum) On the line serves up a selection of short stories from Maritime Greenwich On the line http://www.rmg.co.uk/profiles/annerprofile/themes/rmg/images/frontpage/nmm_bg.jpg https://ontheline.rmg.co.uk/ontheline Cutty Sark Voyages 1870-1922: How Cutty Sark was nearly lost https://ontheline.rmg.co.uk/ontheline/2014/04/11/cutty-sark-voyages-1870-1922-cutty-sark-nearly-lost/ https://ontheline.rmg.co.uk/ontheline/2014/04/11/cutty-sark-voyages-1870-1922-cutty-sark-nearly-lost/#comments Fri, 11 Apr 2014 15:12:33 +0000 https://ontheline.rmg.co.uk/ontheline/?p=490 In a career at sea lasting 50 years, Cutty Sark faced many dangers. The closest she came to being wrecked was in May 1916 off South Africa. At the time, she was owned by a Portuguese company and called Ferreira. This is how her captain might have described the incident.

Ferreira ex-Cutty Sark at Birkenhead, 1914 © Cutty Sark Trust

Ferreira ex-Cutty Sark at Birkenhead, 1914
© Cutty Sark Trust

Frederic Vincenzo sa Sousa: Next month it will be 1918 and I will have been in Cape Town for nineteen months, waiting for my ship to be made sea-worthy once more. My name is Frederic Vincenzo da Sousa and I am the captain of the Ferreira. It is the ship the British called Cutty Sark until she was bought by the Ferreira Company of Lisbon in 1895. Indeed, we still call her El Pequina Camisola, the little camisole, the closest we can get to a Portuguese translation of ‘cutty sark’, because she still carried a small metal camisola as her emblem at the top of her main mast.

The ship’s emblem, in the shape of a ‘cutty sark’, was fitted to the mast head  © Cutty Sark Trust

The ship’s emblem, in the shape of a ‘cutty sark’, was fitted to the mast head
© Cutty Sark Trust

For the British, she transported tea from China to London and then wool from Australia, but for our company, she has carried anything and everything. We usually load and unload at ports in the Portuguese colonies or in our old colonies like Brazil, but we’ve been to the United States and even to England.

Cutty Sark’s ports of call 1870-1922  © Cutty Sark Trust

Cutty Sark’s ports of call 1870-1922
© Cutty Sark Trust

The Great War goes on and every sailor is terrified of submarines. We’re lucky that we’ve never been attacked. But indirectly our ship was nearly a casualty herself.

One of our regular cargoes is coal from Mozambique, and I know the capital of the colony, Laurenço Marques, very well.  It is a beautiful town – the City of the Acacias, they call it. But when we tied up there in back in October 1915, it was a more sombre place. I soon learned the reason why – although there had been skirmishes with the Germans for a year, Portugal was about to go formally to war. As soon as we arrived, the authorities informed me that I and all my crew were being conscripted into the Portuguese Navy.

Now, I am a patriot, but if every sailor is put into the Navy, who is left to transport the goods and materials Portugal needs to win this war?

Portuguese crew on board Ferreira  © National Maritime Museum, London

Portuguese crew on board Ferreira
© National Maritime Museum, London

Eventually I managed to persuade them to take nine of my men, leaving me with two non-Portuguese seamen, six apprentices and my cook. I had to find more men, but after six months’ effort, all I had been able to recruit were couple of fishermen and seven Mozambique men who had never been to sea before. Now I had a crew of eighteen: it was too few, but it was all I could muster. So in April 1916, with a hold full of coal to be delivered to Mossamedes in the southwest of Angola, we set sail.

Ferreira in 1913, in the River Tagus, Portugal  © Cutty Sark Trust

Ferreira in 1913, in the River Tagus, Portugal
© Cutty Sark Trust

We hugged the coast all the way down to South Africa and by 1st May we were only a couple of days away from rounding the Cape of Good Hope – we were between Port Elizabeth and East London. Then the storm hit us. Every part of the sea that wasn’t white was an enormous crashing wave. The winds were reaching Force 10. Remember: I had seven men on board who had never been to sea before – imagine how terrified they were. They certainly were no use.

Day after day it got worse. The ship rolled back and forth until a moment came when it rolled right over to port, with the lower yard arms in the water…. and she didn’t roll back. She stayed like that, right over.

Some of the coal – only 15 or 20 tons of the thousand tons we had on board – had not been loaded properly and as the ship rolled, this loose coal had all shifted to the port side.  So I had to send my apprentices down into the hold. With only a single hurricane lantern to light the space, they spent the whole day down there, shovelling the coal to get the ship back on an even keel. They managed to do it, but by the next morning, all their good work was undone and the ship was listing again.

She was almost unsteerable, so I did not dare to try and steer for Port Elizabeth – we would have almost certainly been wrecked on the rocks. All I could do was sent the apprentices back into the hold again and pray that the weather would improve. But my prayers were not answered. No matter what the apprentices did, the coal shifted again and again. Finally it shifted so much that I knew there was no possibility of ever levelling the ship. My only hope of saving the ship was to reduce the weight of the rigging dragging us over. So over the next few days, we cut away at her masts and rigging and pitched them over the side until all that was left was the foremast and the foretopmast. Even the metal camisola was gone.

Ferreira dismasted, 1916  © Cutty Sark Trust

Ferreira dismasted, 1916
© Cutty Sark Trust

Finally, after 10 days, the wind eased up and I knew that, if I could find a ship to give us a tow, we could make Cape Town. But the first ship I made contact with was the SS Kia Ora. bound for Sydney, not Cape Town. Her captain was so worried about German submarines in the area, he wanted to get away as quickly as possible. He told me to scuttle my ship and he would take me and all my men to Australia with him. But I had come through too much to abandon El Pequina Camisola.

Ferreira dismasted under tow of Indraghiri, 1916  © Cutty Sark Trust

Ferreira dismasted under tow of Indraghiri, 1916
© Cutty Sark Trust

For two more days, we drifted helplessly towards Cape Aghulas, and almost certain shipwreck. Then suddenly, another steamer, the Indraghiri, came into view. She saved us: she threw us a line and towed us into Table Bay.

Ferreira in Cape Town, dismasted, 1916  © Cutty Sark Trust

Ferreira in Cape Town, dismasted, 1916
© Cutty Sark Trust

But the ship was in a terrible state. The estimate for her repair, re-masting and re-rigging was £2,250. Unfortunately, she was only insured for £700. Not only that, because of the War, there was a shortage of timber to replace her yards. So I was instructed by the Company re-rig her as a barquentine, which has a smaller number of sails and uses less timber. And it needs fewer men to sail her.

Ferreira rigged as a barquentine, 1922  © Cutty Sark Trust

Ferreira rigged as a barquentine, 1922
© Cutty Sark Trust

But, despite the changes I am forced to make, every seaman who lands in the Cape is coming to see her – my crew are acting as tourist guides! Yes, it is sad that she is no longer a square-rigged ship, but maybe one day she will look as beautiful again. She is a remarkable vessel: everyone who comes into contact with her has a great affection for her. I often think back to those dreadful days in May 1916 and what might have been. But I know I could never have abandoned her.

Announcer: This is just one of the many stories of Cutty Sark that you can explore on the ship. She is now permanently docked in Greenwich, just 20 minutes from the centre of London. Come on board and discover why she is one of the most famous ships in the world.

Cutty Sark

Cutty Sark Summer 2013
© National Maritime Museum

 

]]>
https://ontheline.rmg.co.uk/ontheline/2014/04/11/cutty-sark-voyages-1870-1922-cutty-sark-nearly-lost/feed/ 1
Cutty Sark Voyages 1870-1922: Through high seas and ice https://ontheline.rmg.co.uk/ontheline/2014/04/11/high-seas-ice/ https://ontheline.rmg.co.uk/ontheline/2014/04/11/high-seas-ice/#comments Fri, 11 Apr 2014 10:53:16 +0000 https://ontheline.rmg.co.uk/ontheline/?p=464 Richard Woodget was Cutty Sark’s most successful captain, making several record-breaking voyages from Australia to England with wool cargoes Based on his logs, this is how he might have described some of the conditions the ship encountered.

 

Captain Richard Woodget, Master of Cutty Sark 1885-1895 © National Maritime Museum, London

Captain Richard Woodget, Master of Cutty Sark 1885-1895
© National Maritime Museum, London

Richard Woodget: My name is Richard Woodget, and I am captain of Cutty Sark. I was the captain of another of Jock Willis’s ships, Coldstream, but in March 1885, Mr Willis took me down to London’s East India Dock, pointed at Cutty Sark and said to me: ‘Captain Woodget, there is your ship. My agents in Sydney are Dangar and Geddes & Co. All you have to do is drive her.’

Cutty Sark’s route to Australia and back to London © Cutty Sark Trust

Cutty Sark’s route to Australia and back to London
© Cutty Sark Trust

She’s a ship that likes a strong wind and plenty of sail on her. And down in the southern seas, there are the strongest winds in the world – the Roaring Forties. I’m well known for keeping as many sails aloft as a ship can bear – that’s why Cutty Sark has made the fastest passages of any clipper ship on the wool run from Australia  – but I remember one evening in June 1891, on our way out to Sydney, when we were south of the Cape of Good Hope. The wind was already blowing so hard that even I daren’t have more sail than just the main topgallant. I was at the stern of the ship, beside the helmsman when I looked behind me and saw an immense sea rolling up just behind us.

The Great Wave by D. Swan © Cutty Sark Trust

The Great Wave by D. Swan
© Cutty Sark Trust

It was towering up so steep that it looked like a cliff. I was sure that it was going to drop right over us and bury the ship. Pretty quickly the helmsman and my son Dick, who was an apprentice on board at the time, lashed themselves to the wheel. If they hadn’t done, I am certain they would have been washed overboard. I myself was hanging to the rail for dear life. But instead of breaking over us, the sea lifted the stern right up.

The next thing I knew, we were running down a wall of water at an angle of about 45 degrees. As the wave began to overtake us, you could hear Cutty Sark’s bow splitting the water with a great roaring hiss. When the highest point reached the middle of the ship, the water just dropped on board on both sides. And it did so with such a tremendous force that the doors of both deckhouses were completely smashed in. Then the water rushed aft, to where I was up on the poop deck. There was so much of it that I was up to my waist and hanging on to the wheel and the rail for my life.

Looking forward, I couldn’t see the deckhouses at all – only the ship’s boats lashed to the top of them. Hundreds of gallons of water must have poured into the saloon. The apprentices’ deckhouse, nearest the stern, was filled right up to the upper bunks, soaking everything in it bed, pillows and bedclothes. The able seamen’s deckhouse, further forward wasn’t quite so bad – it only filled up as high as the lower bunks. But the cargo hold kept dry and watertight – that’s what kept us afloat. In all my years at sea, I’ve never seen anything like it, before or since. Yet what a speed we made – we covered 300 miles in a day: one of our best runs ever!

An advert for Cutty Sark’s passage to Sydney, under Captain Woodget  © Cutty Sark Trust

An advert for Cutty Sark’s passage to Sydney, under Captain Woodget
© Cutty Sark Trust

Coming back from Australia, I set off south east to catch the best winds and head for Cape Horn, but  there’s another danger in being so far south – icebergs. You have to pick your way very carefully past them. On a good day, when we’re inching slowly forward, I get my camera out – I’ve taken dozens of pictures of them; they’re so beautiful. But it’s a different story when it’s foggy. I remember such a day in February, 1893. Early in the morning, the fog lifted and we found ourselves surrounded by icebergs. Down came the fog again and we were sailing almost blind. As soon as we’d inched past one iceberg, the lookouts in the bow of the ship would report another in our path. You could hear the sea roaring through them. The sound of the ice cracking was strange – sometimes it was like thunder, at other times like cannon, but more often than not it was like a rifle being fired. And most of the time the bergs were completely hidden from us by the fog.

An iceberg photographed by Captain Woodget off Cape Horn  © Cutty Sark Trust

An iceberg photographed by Captain Woodget off Cape Horn
© Cutty Sark Trust

Not long after noon that day, the fog lifted again, and I could see the top of one iceberg, although it was difficult to believe it was ice – it looked like a streak of dark cloud. We were about a thousand feet away so my rough calculation was that the berg would have been about a thousand feet high. I could see it had a circular top, but it was so big I couldn’t see its ends.

An iceberg photographed by Captain Woodget  © Cutty Sark Trust

An iceberg photographed by Captain Woodget
© Cutty Sark Trust

Just a few minutes later there was another iceberg – only about a hundred feet high – but it was right under our bow; we only cleared it by a few feet. As we were passing it there was a sharp bang that made everyone jump: I think it was breaking in two.

These icebergs are truly massive – not just in height but also in length. As we cleared a particularly big one, I took bearings on its north end. After sailing eight miles I took other bearings and worked out that the east side was nineteen miles long.

Captain Woodget (top row, third from right) and his crew, with guests on board, 1887  © Cutty Sark Trust

Captain Woodget (top row, third from right) and his crew, with guests on board, 1887
© Cutty Sark Trust

But that wasn’t the worst day of that particular voyage. We were almost home – well, actually we were sailing to Antwerp, because we couldn’t get a cargo for London – we were not far away from entering the English Channel. Two of the seamen, John Doyle and John Clifton, were out on the boom that extends from the bow of the ship, making fast the outer jib sail. They were laughing to see the sprays come over the bows and others getting wet, whilst they were managing to keep dry. But then the helmsman altered the course, putting the ship’s head almost directly in the path of the waves. I shouted to him that he would wash someone overboard. No sooner had I spoken than the ship plunged and her boom went under, and Doyle and Clifton were washed off, just as I’d predicted. I wore the ship around to try and find them – it was too rough to lower a boat – but they were gone. Oh, what a gloom it cast over the ship.

Announcer: This is just one of the many stories of Cutty Sark that you can explore on the ship. She is now permanently docked in Greenwich, just 20 minutes from the centre of London. Come on board and discover why she is one of the most famous ships in the world.

Cutty Sark

Cutty Sark Summer 2013
© National Maritime Museum

]]>
https://ontheline.rmg.co.uk/ontheline/2014/04/11/high-seas-ice/feed/ 2 Richard Woodget was Cutty Sark’s most successful captain, making several record-breaking voyages from Australia to England with wool cargoes Based on his logs, this is how he might have described some of the conditions the ship encountered. Richard Woodget was Cutty Sark’s most successful captain, making several record-breaking voyages from Australia to England with wool cargoes Based on his logs, this is how he might have described some of the conditions the ship encountered.   Richard Woodget: My name is Richard Woodget, and I am captain of... National Maritime Museum 6:33
Cutty Sark Voyages 1870-1922: From London to Brisbane – at sea with Captain Woodget https://ontheline.rmg.co.uk/ontheline/2014/04/10/captain-woodget/ https://ontheline.rmg.co.uk/ontheline/2014/04/10/captain-woodget/#comments Thu, 10 Apr 2014 16:40:38 +0000 https://ontheline.rmg.co.uk/ontheline/?p=436 Clarence Ray was a young apprentice on Cutty Sark in 1894 -95. Based on letters he wrote home, this is how he might have described the voyage from London out to Brisbane.

Cutty Sark at sea, 1880s  © Cutty Sark Trust

Cutty Sark at sea, 1880s
© Cutty Sark Trust

Clarence Ray: I am Clarence Edwin Ray, apprentice on board the sailing ship Cutty Sark. This is my very first time on a proper voyage, and here I am in Brisbane, Australia. We arrived on 15th September 1894, and it looks like we’ll be here for at least a hundred days before we have a full load of wool bales to carry home.

It took us only 82 days to sail here from London, one of Cutty Sark’s fastest passages out. We would have been even quicker if we hadn’t had to stop at Gravesend to load 70 tons of gunpowder and dynamite, bound for the Australian mines. But it was a miserable time for us when the explosives were being loaded because the galley fire had to be put out, so we couldn’t get any hot grub, not even a cup of tea.

Crew on board Cutty Sark (L-R): Third Mate, Steward and Cook © National Maritime Museum, London

Crew on board Cutty Sark (L-R): Third Mate, Steward and Cook
© National Maritime Museum, London

Usually, the galley cooked up pretty good food. My favourite was leu pie, which we got on Sunday:  a great dish of meat and potatoes in a soup with a pastry top. I can take three helpings. On Tuesday we got salt beef, which we all call salted tram horse, because it’s so tough, and on Saturdays ‘junk’ – salted beef again, but hard, with potatoes.

On Monday, Wednesday and Friday we had pea soup and pork for dinner. Every other day for me began at 5.30 in the morning with washing the pigs…until we ate them all. I’d always heard that pigs were unclean animals – now I know it’s true. But we’ve also feasted on flying fish: they fly on board at night, then all we have to do is catch them, clean them and give them to the cook for our breakfast. One night I caught thirteen.

Crew aloft, Cutty Sark in Sydney © Brodie Collection, La Trobe Picture Collection, State Library of Victoria.

Crew aloft, Cutty Sark in Sydney
© Brodie Collection, La Trobe Picture Collection, State Library of Victoria.

We need hearty food because it’s such hard work. Even though I’m a new apprentice, I’ve had to do my fair share of work on deck and aloft in the rigging. I did a jolly lot more too because one of the men in my watch said he couldn’t go aloft unless someone went with him, so the old man – Captain Woodget – always sent me. And once aloft, it was me who had to do everything, repairing and fixing the buntlines and clew lines and leech line – all the ropes that pull up the sails. This is pretty awful when the ship is rolling, like it was in the Bay of Biscay, which is that bay to the west of France and to the north of Spain. The ship rolled so much that the end of the main yard arm very nearly touched the water. I was ordered up to secure the mizzen topgallant staysail, which meant going right to the top of the main mast. When I finally got down, I couldn’t use my left arm – there was great bruise on the muscle, because I was clinging on so tightly. At one point the wind blew me so hard against the mast that all the air was knocked out of my lungs.

The Great Wave by D. Swan © Cutty Sark Trust

The Great Wave by D. Swan
© Cutty Sark Trust

We had a fair run southwards but it got colder and colder until we rounded the Cape of Good Hope. Then we had three weeks of very bad weather. The deck was never dry for a single minute. It was the only time I wished I had never come to sea – hanging on to the wheel at night with the sea crashing over me.  One time we were all – the entire crew – huddled up at the stern of the ship close to the wheel, where it was driest for a day and two nights. When daylight came on the second day, the ship looked a perfect wreck. The door to our deckhouse had been blown open but no one had dared to go onto the main deck to fix it. Everything was awash. I have a top bunk so it wasn’t too bad, but all the things in my storage chest were soaked through.

Cutty Sark’s route to Australia and back to London © Cutty Sark Trust

Cutty Sark’s route to Australia and back to London
© Cutty Sark Trust

And that wasn’t the end of it. A few days later Captain Woodget’s son, who’s the second mate on the ship, got washed off his feet by a wave crashing over amidships and he broke his arm.  Another storm hit us not long after that and we lost quite a few of the upper masts. It took us a week to lash up repairs.

It’s a hard life, but don’t think I don’t like it – I’m enjoying myself very much. And I’m getting muscle on me like a horse and I’ve not had a day’s illness of any kind, not even a headache.

Sailmaker and boy on deck of Cutty Sark  © National Maritime Museum, London

Sailmaker and boy on deck of Cutty Sark
© National Maritime Museum, London

I haven’t just been working on the ship. The old man has got a little steam launch on board for sailing around in harbour in style. Of course he has to pull the engine, boiler, coal bunker and everything else out of her to clean. Unluckily for me, he found out that I knew more about engine work than any of the other apprentices and so he’s had me helping him nearly all the time since we left London. I chip, repair, paint and generally do up!

Brisbane harbour, 1894, taken by Captain Woodget  © Cutty Sark Trust

Brisbane harbour, 1894, taken by Captain Woodget
© Cutty Sark Trust

Now we’re in Brisbane, the Captain has made me chief engineer, fireman, cleaner, and everything else on the launch. Wherever he goes in it, I go, to picnics and parties and that sort of thing. And afterwards, there is always something broken that I have to fix.

The sheep shearers have been on strike here so only now are the wool bales starting to be loaded. By the way the wool is coming down, we won’t be fully laden before Christmas now, and by the time I get home I will have been away nigh on nine months.

Announcer: This is just one of the many stories of Cutty Sark that you can explore on the ship. She is now permanently docked in Greenwich, just 20 minutes from the centre of London. Come on board and discover why she is one of the most famous ships in the world.

Cutty Sark Summer 2013

Cutty Sark Summer 2013
© National Maritime Museum, London

 

 

]]>
https://ontheline.rmg.co.uk/ontheline/2014/04/10/captain-woodget/feed/ 1 Clarence Ray was a young apprentice on Cutty Sark in 1894 -95. Based on letters he wrote home, this is how he might have described the voyage from London out to Brisbane. Clarence Ray: I am Clarence Edwin Ray, Clarence Ray was a young apprentice on Cutty Sark in 1894 -95. Based on letters he wrote home, this is how he might have described the voyage from London out to Brisbane. Clarence Ray: I am Clarence Edwin Ray, apprentice on board the sailing ship Cutty Sark. This is my... National Maritime Museum 5:10
Cutty Sark Voyages 1870-1922: The Hell-Ship Voyage https://ontheline.rmg.co.uk/ontheline/2014/03/25/hell-ship-voyage/ https://ontheline.rmg.co.uk/ontheline/2014/03/25/hell-ship-voyage/#comments Tue, 25 Mar 2014 16:15:49 +0000 https://ontheline.rmg.co.uk/ontheline/?p=407 Few of Cutty Sark’s voyages were without incident, but the most dramatic was surely her twelfth, when a killing took place on board. This is how the young apprentice Charles Sankey might have remembered his time on the ship.

 

Cutty Sark apprentice Charles Sankey, as an old man © National Maritime Museum, London

Cutty Sark apprentice Charles Sankey, as an old man
© National Maritime Museum, London

Charles Sankey: My name is Charles Sankey and I’ve just got off Cutty Sark in New York. What a voyage! I’ve been at sea for nearly two years and I’m still not home.

I joined Cutty Sark in London on the thirteenth of May 1880, one of four apprentices, all of us working towards our junior officer’s certificate. There were only twelve seamen: the ship’s masts and yards had just cut been down in size by nine feet or more, so that they wouldn’t need such a big crew.  So, counting all the officers, the whole crew was only 22.

Capt James Smith Wallace, Master of Cutty Sark 1878- 1880

Capt James Smith Wallace, Master of Cutty Sark 1878- 1880

The captain, Captain Wallace, was one of those fine men who saw his job as not only guiding his ship quickly and safely, but also to teach us, the next generation of ships’ officers. We all had great respect for him. Unlike his first mate, Sydney Smith. Smith was the exact opposite to the captain, he was a great bully of a man, as tough with his fists as with his tongue. I should have known there would be trouble. We sailed from London to Penarth, to pick up a cargo of coal which we were supposed to take to the American navy fleet in Japan. But as soon as we docked in Penarth, just days after leaving London, five of the crew deserted.  Somehow, the captain managed to find replacements, but they weren’t up to much. The worst was an American called John Francis. I heard later he was really a cook, but as an able seaman he was useless. And of course First Mate Smith picked on him mercilessly. I even heard him say, many times: “Please jump overboard.” Once, I don’t know why, he punched Francis so hard on the head that blood was coming out of his ears. It took Francis two days in his bunk to recover from that.

Stormy weather, detail from Cutty Sark – A day in the life © Patrick Hearne

Stormy weather, detail from Cutty Sark – A day in the life
© Patrick Hearne

But worse was to come. We’d just rounded the tip of South Africa and were into the Indian Ocean when we ran into a hard blowing shifting wind. It was a dark and dreadful night, raining heavily. We were all on deck lowering sail. Smith shouted out to Francis to ease one of the ropes. For a while Francis seemed to ignore him but eventually he did take notice, but he did more than loosen that rope – he let it go altogether, and its end dropped into the sea.  Smith of course was already in one of his tempers. He bellowed to Francis that he’d come up to the anchor deck and heave him overboard. And Francis told him if he tried, he had a capstan bar waiting for him. So Smith ran forward, grabbed a broken capstan bar himself from off the top of the windlass, jumped up onto the fo’c’s’le and brought it crashing down onto Francis’s head.

Capstan bars on Cutty Sark © Cutty Sark Trust

Capstan bars on Cutty Sark
© Cutty Sark Trust

We carried Francis down to the ’tween deck, but he never opened his eyes, never uttered a sound. By the next evening he was dead. Now, the funny thing was that, although Francis had said he had armed himself with a capstan bar, none of us saw anything in his hands. But Captain Wallace made some of the crew sign a statement that Smith had acted in self-defence. I can’t explain this  – it was almost as if Smith had some hold over him. Not only that  –-the capstan bar Smith had used to clobber Francis was just lying there on the anchor deck for days, but just before we reached our next port of call Captain Wallace picked it up and dropped it overboard.

Cutty Sark at sea, 1880s  © Cutty Sark Trust

Cutty Sark at sea, 1880s
© Cutty Sark Trust

A few days later we were anchored at Anjer, on the tip of Java, at the entrance to the South China Sea. We all expected that Smith would be brought before the magistrates, but, lo and behold, he managed to escape from Cutty Sark. He got away altogether on an American ship. He could only have done this with Captain Wallace’s help.

Of course, the seamen were furious. Nobody had liked Francis, but bully mates need to be brought to heel. There was almost a mutiny and the men refused to work so it was pretty much left to us apprentices to sail the ship on towards Japan. But we didn’t realise the torment our captain was going through. He’d forced men to sign a false statement; he’d destroyed evidence; he’d helped Smith escape. Surely all this would come out when we reached Japan. And he knew that that would be end of his career. But in fact that came much sooner. In the middle of the night, he stepped over the rail behind the helmsman and into the middle of the South China Sea. He was never seen again.

Steering wheel and taff rail of Cutty Sark  © National Maritime Museum, London

Steering wheel and taff rail of Cutty Sark
© National Maritime Museum, London

We never got to Japan. We headed back to Java – I had to navigate the ship – where a new captain joined us – William Bruce, who had joined us from the Hallowe’en. He was a nasty, hypocritical drunk: it’s difficult to choose between him and Smith as to who was the worst character.  We took Cutty Sark to Singapore, where the coal cargo was unloaded in Singapore and from there we sailed on to Calcutta, where we lay at anchor for four months. Melbourne was our next port of call, but one crewman was washed overboard before we got there. And once we did arrive, we discovered we had cholera on board. Three of the men died.

Halloween  © National Maritime Museum, London

Halloween
© National Maritime Museum, London

We’d lose another man overboard before the voyage was over, but it’s lucky we didn’t all die. Captain Bruce had no idea how to provision a ship. Our final destination was New York but by the time we were in the mid-Atlantic, we were down to the last few biscuits. If we hadn’t managed to hail first a German ship and then a Royal Navy warship, who both gave us a few supplies, we would have starved. By the time we finally berthed in New York, it was 697 days since we’d left London.

The route of the ship's 12th voyage, lasting 697 days  © Cutty Sark Trust

The route of the ship’s 12th voyage, lasting 697 days
© Cutty Sark Trust

Captain Bruce lost his job when the ship owner found out how useless he was. And you’ll be pleased to know that Smith didn’t get away with killing Francis. A couple of years later, in London, one of my old shipmates spotted him. He was arrested and tried for murder but convicted of manslaughter. He was sentenced to seven years hard labour.

Announcer: This is just one of the many stories of Cutty Sark that you can explore on the ship. She is now permanently docked in Greenwich, just 20 minutes from the centre of London. Come on board and discover why she is one of the most famous ships in the world.

Cutty Sark

Cutty Sark 2013
© National Maritime Museum, London

 

]]>
https://ontheline.rmg.co.uk/ontheline/2014/03/25/hell-ship-voyage/feed/ 1 Few of Cutty Sark’s voyages were without incident, but the most dramatic was surely her twelfth, when a killing took place on board. This is how the young apprentice Charles Sankey might have remembered his time on the ship. Few of Cutty Sark’s voyages were without incident, but the most dramatic was surely her twelfth, when a killing took place on board. This is how the young apprentice Charles Sankey might have remembered his time on the ship.   Charles Sankey: My name is Charles Sankey and I’ve just... National Maritime Museum 6:27
Cutty Sark Voyages 1870-1922: Cutty Sark’s maiden voyage to China https://ontheline.rmg.co.uk/ontheline/2014/02/18/cutty-sark-voyages-1870-1922-cutty-sarks-maiden-voyage-china/ https://ontheline.rmg.co.uk/ontheline/2014/02/18/cutty-sark-voyages-1870-1922-cutty-sarks-maiden-voyage-china/#comments Tue, 18 Feb 2014 13:56:49 +0000 https://ontheline.rmg.co.uk/ontheline/?p=361 Cutty Sark was built for a single purpose – to transport tea from China to London as quickly as possible. She worked in the trade from 1870 to 1877. This is how 18-year old Able Seaman William Parker might have remembered her arrival in Shanghai on her maiden voyage in 1870.

Advert for Cutty Sark's maiden voyage in 1870 to Shanghai © Cutty Sark Trust

Advert for Cutty Sark‘s maiden voyage in 1870 to Shanghai
© Cutty Sark Trust

William Parker: My name is William Parker and I was eighteen, the youngest of the crew, when I shipped aboard Cutty Sark on her maiden voyage – just eighteen. We left London on the eleventh of February 1870 and reached Shanghai on the last day of May.

We’d brought a general cargo out from London, mostly beer, wine and spirits for the Europeans and Americans living in Shanghai. There was no quayside in any of the Chinese ports and only a couple of tiny piers, so we anchored right there in the Huangpu river. We furled all the sails in a proper harbour stow, squared the yards to a nicety, hauled taut all the ropes, got the accommodation ladder over the side…. and before we knew it there were swarms and swarms of people all over the main deck. It took the local dockers just a day to unload everything from the hold into their small sampans and row the goods to the shore.

Cutty Sark in a Chinese Harbour by G. Geidel © Cutty Sark Trust

Cutty Sark in a Chinese Harbour by G. Geidel
© Cutty Sark Trust

But not long after we’d moored,  a few of us were standing by the fo’c’s’le door, smoking our pipes, when one big Chinese man, with a young lady by his side, came up to us. “Every morning” he says “Breakfast time, sampan come alongside. Got eggs, sugar bread, everything got. All number one. Please write name in book.” And he produced a stubby pencil and a very mangy looking memorandum book for us each to open an account with him.

He told us his name was Ah Chang Loon, but this was too difficult for my crew mates to pronounce. He just shrugged his shoulders and said “Maskee, maskee”, which means Who cares? “You can call me what you like”.  So we decided to call him Johnson.

But every morning Johnson’s boat came alongside and we got bread, eggs and fruit. And sometimes a bottle of square o’ – Dutch gin – found its way into the fo’c’s’le. And sometimes there would be oysters at sixpence a hundred. They were small but delicious.

I was head over heels in love with Miss Johnson. She was a jolly girl and she and old Johnson were the crew of the sampan, so I saw her every day. It was rather unfortunate to discover later that she was not his daughter.

Our captain, Captain Moodie, was off every day speaking to the agents about our tea cargo as we all wanted to get loaded and away as fast as we could. But we had to wait, and we spent every day polishing the brass work, honing the deck or touching up the paint on the ship’s sides. We were one of a dozen British clippers in Shanghai that season and every man on them wanted their vessel to look the smartest. And to be the fastest. We were so confident in our brand new ship that we pulled together twenty pounds between us to bet against the crew of the Serica that we’d be back in London before them.

Wild Deer, another clipper which loaded tea in Shanghai 1870

Wild Deer, another clipper which loaded tea in Shanghai 1870 (BHC3718)

Before you can take a tea cargo on board though, you have to make sure the hold has been well ventilated – tea doesn’t care for moisture. And you have to be careful what you carry with it. There used to be a big trade in rhubarb from China, but as few as twenty chests of it can ruin a whole ship-full of tea. Same with silk – it holds the moisture – so you have to be careful of how you stow it. The weather was good so we could keep all three hatches open. Normally we would have whitewashed the hold too, but this was a new ship that had only taken a clean cargo, so we were spared that.

Camellia-Sinensis---tea-plant

Camellia sinensis, the tea plant
© Cutty Sark Trust

Because a tea cargo is so light, we needed new ballast to be loaded – clean river stones. You don’t want them to be too porous, again because of the moisture. Granite is the best.  And finally we saw the big sampans come down the river, very low in the water and almost sinking with the weight of tea chests.

There’s no body of men on earth who can fill a hold as full as a team of Chinese dockers. I wouldn’t normally bother to watch cargo being loaded, but this was a sight to behold.  First, they brought in boards to cover the ballast they carefully levelled.  They worked out exactly how many tea chests they could cram in using their measuring rods. Then chests came pouring in, along with sacks of small stones. It looked like chaos, but they were very methodical. First they brought in chests of the cheapest teas and arranged lines of them right down the middle of the ship from bow to stern. Then they used the small stones to fill in the gaps between the chests and the sides of the ship. Huge mallets knocked the chests into place. This was the lowest tier and the dockers then just added more and more tiers of chests. Every couple of tiers they laid more boards to give themselves a level surface and sometimes they would also add a layer of split bamboo matting. On the very uppermost layer, on the ’tween deck, they used canvas as well as a covering. This stopped any leaks from the main deck getting into the cargo. But a drop of water is about all that could have got in: she was packed solid. Of course you don’t want a cargo to move, or it can sink you. In three days the dockers had loaded over ten thousand chests, with another two thousand half chests filling up the smaller spaces.

Loading tea on a composite clipper

Loading tea on a composite clipper
© Cutty Sark Trust

Three days later we were ready to sail and took our leave of Mr Johnson and the person I now understood to be Mrs Johnson. We were the first ship to get away from Shanghai that year and 110 days later we were unloading the ship in London, in the East India Docks. And we won our bet –the Serica didn’t arrive for another 11 days. It’s sad to recall that, just a couple of years later, she was wrecked in the South China Sea and all hands, except one, were lost.

Unloading tea ships in the East India docks

Unloading tea ships in the East India docks (H3863)

Announcer: This is just one of the many stories of Cutty Sark that you can explore on the ship. She is now permanently docked in Greenwich, just 20 minutes from the centre of London. Come on board and discover why she is one of the most famous ships in the world.

Cutty Sark

Cutty Sark 2013
© National Maritime Museum, London

 

]]>
https://ontheline.rmg.co.uk/ontheline/2014/02/18/cutty-sark-voyages-1870-1922-cutty-sarks-maiden-voyage-china/feed/ 1 Cutty Sark was built for a single purpose – to transport tea from China to London as quickly as possible. She worked in the trade from 1870 to 1877. This is how 18-year old Able Seaman William Parker might have remembered her arrival in Shanghai on her... Cutty Sark was built for a single purpose – to transport tea from China to London as quickly as possible. She worked in the trade from 1870 to 1877. This is how 18-year old Able Seaman William Parker might have remembered her arrival in Shanghai on her maiden voyage in... National Maritime Museum 6:22
Nelson, Navy, Nation https://ontheline.rmg.co.uk/ontheline/2014/01/24/nelson-navy-nation/ https://ontheline.rmg.co.uk/ontheline/2014/01/24/nelson-navy-nation/#respond Fri, 24 Jan 2014 14:32:36 +0000 https://ontheline.rmg.co.uk/ontheline/?p=323 ontheline_default_01

Discover the new permanent gallery at the National Maritime Museum, Nelson, Navy, Nation and find out what the curators’ favourite object are.

Download this episode


Lucinda Blaser:               Hi, I’m Lucinda Blaser and today I’m here with Quintin Colville and James Davey, curators of Naval History here at the National Maritime Museum. Hi boys.

 

Quintin Colville:              Hello there.

 

James Davey:                   Hello.

 

Lucinda:                            What are we going to be talking about today?

 

Quintin:                             We’re going to be talking about the Museum’s new permanent gallery which is called Nelson, Navy, Nation.

 

James:                                What does this gallery set out to achieve?

 

Quintin:                       The main aim of this gallery is to place the important figure of Admiral Lord Nelson in a much broader historical context. That means the story of the Royal Navy but it also means the story of the British people across the 18th century.

What we have in this gallery is not just admirals but sailors, it’s not just people afloat, it’s also people ashore, civilians from merchants to fashionable women in the provinces. We’ve got a very broad and a very rich story to tell.

 

James:                       I think the other thing to say is that we want to show how the navy shaped British history. Just to give a couple of examples, we can show that the dock yards were vast industrial enterprises and significant employers that drew resources from across Britain. We can also show that the navy defended Britain from foreign threats but also protected British trade around the world, ensuring that the nation became wealthier.

We also want to show how the navy impacted upon British society and culture and demonstrate that naval heroes and even the stereotype figure of the British seamen became important representations of Britishness and helped to forge a sense of national identity.

 

Lucinda:               How much prominence do you give to Nelson?
Quintin:                       Nelson remains for us the pre-eminent naval commander of the age. He’s the man who united extraordinary qualities and characteristics in terms of command, leadership, the ability to communicate with his sailors, whether they were officers or lower deck.

But beyond that he also analysed that with celebrity. He was an extraordinarily famous man during his own lifetime, which means that he meant things to people who had never met him across British society. We’ve got someone who is a brilliant commander but who is also famous and celebrated across the land. How could he not be central? How could he not be important to a gallery like this?

But the thing is that at the same time we want to look beyond him. We want to look at the people who thought he was so important and ask why.

 

Lucinda:               Does the gallery offer a new interpretation of its subject?

 

James:                Absolutely it does. We’ve really tried very hard to use the National Maritime Museum’s collections to tell exciting stories about the navy that query myths and highlight hidden histories. We can show that most people joined the navy voluntarily and for a range of motivations.

We can show that life on board a naval ship was built around consensus, undermining this longstanding idea of ships dominated by punishment and violence. We can also point to the diverse backgrounds of sailors and indeed the presence of women on board naval ships, the relatively good quality of food and drink and also, as I’ve mentioned already, show the various ways that the navy could impact on British society and culture.

 

Lucinda:              Are there stories you nonetheless found it difficult to tell?
Quintin:               Well this is a gallery that focuses on the relationship of Britain and the Royal Navy. You could say that it has a limited remit but there are enormous stories that actually connect to it. Think for instance of the story of slavery, of transatlantic trade, of the Indian Ocean and commerce and that context. These are all hugely important.

But this is a museum, it’s not just one gallery. We have a range of galleries that can actually help tell these stories to, in particular Atlantic Worlds and Traders, precisely target those themes of the Atlantic, of the Indian Ocean, of slavery and of trade. These can work together with this gallery of navy and nation to create a much broader and much richer story.

 

Lucinda:               Were there objects you had to leave out?

 

James:                 Unfortunately there were. The National Maritime Museum houses the pre-eminent collection that relates to naval history in this period. I think it’s probably true to say that we could have filled this gallery many times over. There are literally hundreds of thousands of objects relating to the 18th century navy in our collections.

This has therefore necessitated a considerable degree of selectivity. We weren’t able to include every story but I think we’ve assembled a very representative narrative and also a gallery that includes the most important objects from our collections.

 

Lucinda:               What I really want to know is what’s your favourite object in the gallery?

 

Quintin:               There are objects in this gallery that are among the most important in any British museum. Key ones like the uniform that Nelson was wearing when he was wounded at Trafalgar. But for me there are some more every day stories and objects that really leap to the forefront.

We’ve got an artist represented in the gallery called Lieutenant Gabriel Bray, an ordinary officer, a Lieutenant who happened to be startlingly gifted as a water colourist. He creates these snapshots. They’re like Polaroid’s of every day naval life, not just officers but everyone on board. He just picks out human characteristics, ordinary scenarios, people shaving, people snoozing, people fishing off the end of a canon.

It’s stuff like that that just brings the realities of everyday life, not great battles to our visitors. I think he’s incredibly powerful as a result.

 

James:                  In a similar vein I think I would say a letter that we have in a section called Officers Lives. It was written by a young midshipman called George Perceval, writing home to his parents on Christmas Day in 1806. He’s writing about what he and his ship mates are up to. They’re doing some celebratory drinking, seeing the festival in.

But as you read the letter this becomes increasingly evident as his handwriting deteriorates from perfect copper plate to essentially an illegible scrawl. The last few words are very difficult to make out. It’s an object that, similar to Gabriel Bray, offers this wonderful insight into the life of a young officer.

 

Lucinda:               Thank you, that’s wonderful. Nelson Navy and the Nation is open now at the National Maritime Museum.

]]>
https://ontheline.rmg.co.uk/ontheline/2014/01/24/nelson-navy-nation/feed/ 0 Discover the new permanent gallery at the National Maritime Museum, Nelson, Navy, Nation and find out what the curators’ favourite object are. Download this episode Lucinda Blaser:               Hi, I’m Lucinda Blaser and today I’m here with Quintin Co... Discover the new permanent gallery at the National Maritime Museum, Nelson, Navy, Nation and find out what the curators’ favourite object are. Download this episode Lucinda Blaser:               Hi, I’m Lucinda Blaser and today I’m here with Quintin Colville and James Davey, curators of Naval History here at the National Maritime... National Maritime Museum 6:44
Stories in the crew lists https://ontheline.rmg.co.uk/ontheline/2013/12/17/stories-crew-lists/ https://ontheline.rmg.co.uk/ontheline/2013/12/17/stories-crew-lists/#respond Tue, 17 Dec 2013 15:32:59 +0000 https://ontheline.rmg.co.uk/ontheline/?p=331 1915 crew list

This talk was recorded as part of the 1915 Crew List Transcription Project: Volunteers Event on 3 October 2013.

A thank you to the crew list volunteers who around the world are transcribing the details of 1915 merchant navy Crew lists to make them searchable online. Graham Thompson, Archives Assistant, speaks about some of the stories to emerge from the crew lists themselves.

Download this episode

]]>
https://ontheline.rmg.co.uk/ontheline/2013/12/17/stories-crew-lists/feed/ 0
The Merchant Marine in World War One https://ontheline.rmg.co.uk/ontheline/2013/12/17/the-merchant-marine/ https://ontheline.rmg.co.uk/ontheline/2013/12/17/the-merchant-marine/#respond Tue, 17 Dec 2013 15:26:07 +0000 https://ontheline.rmg.co.uk/ontheline/?p=327 The Merchant Marine in World War One

This talk was recorded as part of the 1915 Crew List Transcription Project: Volunteers Event on 3 October 2013.

A thank you to the crew list volunteers who around the world are transcribing the details of 1915 merchant navy Crew lists to make them searchable online. Andrew Choong, Curator of Historic Photographs and Ship Plans, talks about the role of the merchant navy in World War One.

]]>
https://ontheline.rmg.co.uk/ontheline/2013/12/17/the-merchant-marine/feed/ 0
Cutty Sark Voyages 1870-1922: Cutty Sark races Thermopylae https://ontheline.rmg.co.uk/ontheline/2013/12/12/cutty-sark-races-thermopylae/ https://ontheline.rmg.co.uk/ontheline/2013/12/12/cutty-sark-races-thermopylae/#comments Thu, 12 Dec 2013 16:56:57 +0000 https://ontheline.rmg.co.uk/ontheline/?p=250 Cutty Sark’s great rival for the title of the fastest of all the clippers was Aberdeen White Star Line’s Thermopylae. But the only time the two ships left the same port on the same day and raced against each other nearly ended in disaster for Cutty Sark. This is how the ship’s carpenter, Henry Henderson, might have remembered it.

H. Henderson at Cutty Sark stern

H. Henderson at Cutty Sark’s stern
© Cutty Sark Trust

 

Henry Henderson: How d’you do. My name is Henry Henderson and I was the ship’s carpenter on board Cutty Sark for, let me see now, five voyages, from her maiden voyage onward. Our first two voyages to China and back were uneventful enough; just the usual settling in of a new ship, making sure all the gear was working. It was on the third voyage, on the homeward run, that Cutty Sark got into trouble. She might have ended up wrecked off the coast of South Africa, if it hadn’t been for me.

Cutty Sark in a Chinese Harbour by G. Geidel © Cutty Sark Trust

Cutty Sark in a Chinese Harbour by G. Geidel
© Cutty Sark Trust

We’d left Shanghai on the 17th of June 1872, with nearly 600 tons of tea in the hold. Everyone was keen to make a fast passage home. It was not that we’d been away that long: we’d left London only four and a half months earlier. On the last voyage we’d been away for more than a year. But the reason why we wanted to make our fastest passage was … the ship right behind us: the Aberdeen White Star Line’s clipper Thermopylae.

Thermopylae by F.I. Sorensen

Thermopylae by F.I. Sorensen (BHC3658)

There’s no doubt that she was a fine vessel, but many people were saying she was the fastest of all the tea clippers. Naturally enough our captain, old Moodie, and his crew – were not going to stand for that. We knew Cutty Sark was quicker. Now, with Cutty Sark and Thermopylae leaving China at exactly the same time, we had the chance to prove it.

Every captain has their own favourite course, so we lost sight of Thermopylae pretty soon. But we caught another glimpse of her a couple of days later as we slipped past Hong Kong. Then we must have got ahead, because when we stopped at Anjer on the tip of Java to pick up mail, we saw her approach and sail on by.

The Rivals: Cutty Sark and Thermoplyae by D. Swan © Cutty Sark Trust

The Rivals: Cutty Sark and Thermoplyae by D. Swan
© Cutty Sark Trust

Once we got into the Indian Ocean, my Lord, we flew! We were making 260 miles a day. I learnt afterwards that by the time we’d passed the southern tip of Madagascar and were heading for the Cape of Good Hope, Cutty Sark was 400 miles ahead of Thermopylae.

Cutty Sark by Frederick Tudgay © Cutty Sark Trust

Cutty Sark by Frederick Tudgay
© Cutty Sark Trust

But then… on the 7th of August – that would be 54 days after we’d left Shanghai – the wind just died. It was as if it had been cut by a knife. We lay there, a couple of hundred miles off the coast of South Africa, for two days. But if any of us had been praying for a wind, it would have been better if that prayer was left unanswered.

The Great Wave by D. Swan © Cutty Sark Trust

The Great Wave by D. Swan
© Cutty Sark Trust

When that wind came, Lord, it was strong, from the west. And with it, a big, big sea. We took in canvas, but the lower topsails on the fore and main masts were blown to shreds. It seemed it would never let up. All the helmsman could do was to try and keep the head to the wind. Then at half past six on the morning of the 15th , the sea rose up under the stern, picked up the rudder and tore it out and away.

So we had a ship we couldn’t steer. I tried putting a spare yard over the stern to see if that would act like a steering oar, like you see on some Chinese boats, but the ship was just too big.

Now… Robert Willis, who had a small share in the ownership of Cutty Sark, he was on board – he had taken the trip for the good of his health – and he tried to tell Captain Moodie to make for the nearest port under sail alone – I suppose it would be Port Elizabeth. Well, Captain Moodie was not the kind of man you tell what to do and Mr Willis was lucky not to have been knocked down. Moodie had made up his mind to repair the rudder at sea.

Captain Moodie  © Cutty Sark Trust

Captain Moodie
© Cutty Sark Trust

So I set about making a new rudder – it was a sort of lash-up we call a jury rudder – from spare spars and bits of timber I’d stowed for repairs. Now – and you can hardly credit this – we had a bit of luck. After we’d left Shanghai, we discovered we had two stowaways on board… and one turned out to be a blacksmith. I set this fellow to making eyebolts and he set up a little forge on deck. My idea was to fix five eyebolts into my new rudder and five into the rudderpost, then push a bolt through them all to hold the rudder to the ship but at the same time allow it to swing properly. The bolt was actually one of the metal posts that held up the awning over the poop deck. The whole contraption was to be controlled by chains.

Cutty Sark's jury rudder © Cutty Sark Trust

Cutty Sark‘s jury rudder
© Cutty Sark Trust

Now, if you can imagine setting up a forge on the deck of a ship at sea, you can picture what was going to happen sooner or later. Yes, the whole thing tipped over. The captain’s son, Alexander, who was an apprentice on board, was helping the smith when a roll took the whole forge across the deck, covering him with red hot cinders. He didn’t make much of a fuss, but I believe he still bears the scars.

Somehow though, we got it all finished and we managed to hang this jury rudder, which was no simple task. But it worked –we were soon underway again, even if progress home was pretty slow.

H. Henderson at Cutty Sark stern  © Cutty Sark Trust

H. Henderson at Cutty Sark stern
© Cutty Sark Trust

When we reached finally reached London in mid-October, we found Thermopylae had beaten us by nine days. But you can’t help but feel a bit sorry for Captain Kimball – Thermopylae’s master – because no-one talked about him beating us. All anyone talked about was how I’d saved Cutty Sark with my jury rudder. And the shipowners gave me a handsome gift of £50 as a reward for what I’d done.

Letter from Cutty Sark’s owner John Willis © Cutty Sark Trust

Letter from Cutty Sark’s owner John Willis
© Cutty Sark Trust

Announcer: This is just one of the many stories of Cutty Sark that you can explore on the ship. She is now permanently docked in Greenwich, just 20 minutes from the centre of London. Come on board and discover why she is one of the most famous ships in the world.

Cutty Sark

Cutty Sark

]]>
https://ontheline.rmg.co.uk/ontheline/2013/12/12/cutty-sark-races-thermopylae/feed/ 2 Cutty Sark’s great rival for the title of the fastest of all the clippers was Aberdeen White Star Line’s Thermopylae. But the only time the two ships left the same port on the same day and raced against each other nearly ended in disaster for Cutty Sar... Cutty Sark’s great rival for the title of the fastest of all the clippers was Aberdeen White Star Line’s Thermopylae. But the only time the two ships left the same port on the same day and raced against each other nearly ended in disaster for Cutty Sark. This is how... National Maritime Museum 5:27
The Nana Olomu flags https://ontheline.rmg.co.uk/ontheline/2013/12/12/nana-olomu-flags/ https://ontheline.rmg.co.uk/ontheline/2013/12/12/nana-olomu-flags/#respond Thu, 12 Dec 2013 15:30:41 +0000 https://ontheline.rmg.co.uk/ontheline/?p=294 Heloise Finch-Boyer reveals her favourite objects at the National Maritime Museum.

Download this episode

]]>
https://ontheline.rmg.co.uk/ontheline/2013/12/12/nana-olomu-flags/feed/ 0 Heloise Finch-Boyer reveals her favourite objects at the National Maritime Museum. Download this episode Heloise Finch-Boyer reveals her favourite objects at the National Maritime Museum. Download this episode National Maritime Museum 4:59