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Maritime Book Review
10/220/02 - At last our Maritime Book Review page is now up on our Web site. We invite publishers of maritime books to send new releases to us for review. We are proud to present our first review of an advanced copy of the soon to be published book:
The Quantuck Lane Press
145 East 16th Street-Suite 20A, New York, NY 10110
James L. Mairs, President and Publisher / jmairs@wwnorton.com
Publication Date: November 14, 2002
Pages: 270, Illustrations: 15 Photos and Drawings, ISBN#: 0-9714548-2-5, Price: $24.95 (Canada, $35.99)
Distributed by: W.W. Norton & Company, 500 Fifth Avenue, New York, NY 10110 / www.wwnorton.com
Reviewed by Donald Gunn Ross III
A 100-year-old treasure of a seafaring manuscript that has collected dust in a family archive for the past century has at last made its way into print with the soon to be published book: Jack Corbett, Mariner. Within these pages the seafaring world of the Liverpool packets comes sharply into life by way of an exciting chance encounter between Alfrederick Smith Hatch and Jack Corbett. The former a 20-year-old well educated but asthmatic son of a well to do physician from the Green Mountains of Vermont, who with his father's strong encouragement is in search of a voyage before the mast "that will kill him or cure him." The latter a Jack-tar illiterate Irish-born British sailor who had been brought up in a British man-of-war and had since gone on to serve and sail aboard merchant ships around the world.
It is along the New York City East River South Street waterfront that the two fall in with each other at a sailor boarding house on Water Street. Where young Hatch had gone in search of his adventurous voyage before the mast after he ". . . realized that a first-class hotel was not an advantageous starting point for a seagoing career."
In Hatch's own words, "Here I fell in with a miscellaneous assortment of sailors of all nationalities-men that had sailed all seas and under all flags that wave over them: and among them was Jack."
The boarding house was thought of as "a sort of big forecastle on land" and young Hatch is soon steeped in sea talk as the lexicon of nautical expressions soon find their way into his conversations as he rapidly absorbs it all to the best of his abilities. Young Hatch is well educated, particularly in the subtle arts of the English language. His keen observation skills, wit and gift for words paint a livid picture of his new environment along the South Street waterfront as he takes it all in with his youthful exuberance of a young man in search of his first voyage before the mast. Blessed with a remarkable memory, A.S. Hatch's gifts for dialect and dialogue served him well throughout his life and many years later between 1888-1900 he wrote of his experience before the mast as a sailor aboard the Liverpool packet New World and of his life long friendship with Jack Corbett.
The early appearance of Jack in young Hatch's life is best summed up in his own words.
He was a typical old salt. Born in Ireland and brought up in a British man-of-war, he has since graduated a cosmopolitan-a mariner of any country under whose flag it pleased him for the time being to sail.
With his bronze-red cheeks, bushy whiskers, nautical attire and rolling gait, he could have walked out of the boarding house in Water Street and appeared on the stage as one of the crew of H.M.S. Pinafore, in the most natural way possible, without any artificial makeup whatever.
Jack took to me from the first day of my appearance at the boarding house and in two or three days he had assumed a rough sort of guardianship over me which was amusing, but useful. He swore that I should go to sea with him, and that he would take care of me like a mother.
"Ye'll want somebody to look after ye, boy," he said. "Ye'll be no more use ter yerself aboard ship for the first few days 'an a sucklin' baby."
As this was what I had begun to suspect, I was quite ready to believe him and to gladly accept him as my sea nurse.
I had abundant reason in the months that followed to be thankful for the good Providence that brought me into such a relation to this whole-hearted son of the Ocean on the threshold of my seagoing life.
Thus the stage is now set for a grand sea tale of adventure before the mast. It is also the story of the most remarkable friendship between two men from very different worlds that stood the test of time and the sea and ended many years later with Jack dying in A.S. Hatch's arms.
Let's return to the beginning. The South Street docks were an endless source of fascination for young Hatch, referred to throughout the book as "Boy Hatch," as he wandered about inspecting the ships loading for foreign ports, sometimes alone, sometimes with Jack. Coasters were ignored and only the ships bound for foreign ports were of interest to young Hatch as he enthusiastically tried to size up each ship, officers and crew in order to ply his acquaintances at the boarding house with questions when he later returned. All in the efforts to size up prospects for a suitable voyage before the mast. An unwise or unlucky choice of a ship has led to the demise of many a sailor. As young Hatch would find out after a young friend, Harry, a black sheep minister's son, shipped out on the four hundred-ton ship Brewster and had tried to get young Hatch to come ship out with him. For a moment young Hatch abandoned promises to his family, sweetheart and Jack for the lure of a trading voyage to the Pacific. The effort, however, comes to no avail for the captain of the Brewster had a full crew already shipped and views young Hatch with undisguised contempt. Hatch left dejectedly down the gangplank of the Brewster, but was none the less determined to see his friend off the following morning after her moorings were cast off. Hatch coaxes the captain of the tug to take him along for the escort passage out beyond the Narrows where in Hatch's words:
Outside the narrows, the Brewster began to spread her canvas to the fresh northeast breeze. As the tug left her and turned up the bay, Harry swung his cap to me from the mizzen topsail yard where he was loosening the sail.
The Brewster sailed away, and was never heard of afterward.
Young Hatch's fortunes take another tack a few days later when Jack tells Hatch that he has just signed articles to serve aboard the Liverpool packet New World, then moored at the foot of Maiden Lane that was due to sail the next day.
The New World
The New World was built in Donald McKay's East Boston shipyard in 1846 and was the largest merchant ship built in America at that time. She was a three-masted, three-decked, 1,407-ton monster 187 feet long with a 40-foot beam drawing 28 feet of water and was owned by the Swallow Tail Line. In the three years since her launching the New World had established her reputation as the queen of the Liverpool packet trade. She was under the command of Captain Knight, a captain known for temperance. The last fact being one of prime importance to young Hatch's father, the respected Vermont doctor Horace Hatch, who's admonition was that his son seek out such a captain when searching for a suitable voyage before the mast that would restore his health. Horace Hatch was undoubtedly influenced by Richard Henry Dana's book: Two Years Before the Mast.
Jack tells young Hatch to approach the captain and try to convince him to let the young man ship aboard the New World. Hatch ignores Jack's strange additional advice strategies of humbug and sentimental nonsense on the matter. He approaches the captain telling his story in his honest fashion and finds a kindred spirit with the captain who it turns out is also from the Green Mountains of Vermont and went to sea under similar circumstances. Young Hatch holds Captain Knight in high esteem and sums up why in the following passage:
I did not follow Jack's cunning program. Young and green as I then was, I had sufficient discernment to see at a glance that Captain Ebrnrzer Knight's piety and temperance principles did not make him a fool. Brisk, hearty, with a generous spirit and a keen intelligence shining out of kindly but penetrating eyes, a thorough sailor and a polished gentleman, he became my ideal of a commander.
Next, young Hatch hits it off with the second mate with his rapport, intelligence and wit and the two become friends. Hatch is told to return with his togs tomorrow.
Later Hatch catches up with Jack and tells him that he's going in the New World and asks Jack to help him buy his outfit the next morning to which Jack seems most agreeable.
That night is the last one ashore and Jack asks a favor of Hatch that reveals another unexpected side of Jack's character. Hatch accompanies Jack to help him carry a large tarpaulin-covered basket aboard the Fulton Ferry after dark over to the Brooklyn side to pay a visit to the family of an old shipmate. The two carry the basket through the narrow Brooklyn waterfront streets and down an alley to a rear tenement house and up two flights of stairs where Jack knocks softly on the nearest door. A 40-year-old woman opens the door and after a cordial greeting invites them into the living room. There in the corner of the room is a sickly girl of about fifteen years old who greets Jack kindly. The contrast between the two is noted by Hatch. Jack introduces young Hatch as his new shipmate and adds:
Yer see, mar'm and Miss, wot I mean is he's goin' to be my shipmate tomorrer, for we're going to sail together in the New World. He hain't bin much of anybody's shipmate up to now seein' as he's never poked his nose outside Sandy Hook, and I can't say as he's much of a sailor yet, but I'm goin' to make a sailor of him sure, and if he comes here we' me after we gets back from this little 'scursion ter Liverpool ye won't know him.
The purpose of the visit is thus revealed by Hatch's own words:
Then Jack removed the tarpaulin cover from the basket and disclosed its contents. First he took out a couple of dainty night robes, prettily frilled and embroidered, but of good strong, durable material; then some stockings of soft wool in a variety of colors; then a pretty wrapper of soft japanese silk, picked up as he told me afterwards in Yokahama, on his last voyage; then some bits of ribbon, red, blue, and pink, tied in tasteful knots and bows for the neck. These, together with some books containing bright-colored pictures of ships and birds and fishes, and some toys and games, he laid on the bed beside the sick girl, who handled them one after the other with looks of unfeigned delight and little cries of pleasure. Then he handed a roll of some kind of soft, black stuff to the mother with trimmings and accessories for a dress. Then came packages of tea and coffee and sugar, and tumblers of jelly and jars of jam, and, lastly, oranges and lemons and grapes.
When all these had been laid out on the table, the woman, with an expression of strangely mingled pleasure and pain, exclaimed, "Oh, Mr. Corbett, how can we take all these things from you?"
"Now, look ahere, Mar'm," answered Jack in a grieved tone, "Considerin' as yer man, Ben Simmons, as we was shipmate wi' me off an' on fer nine year, jumped overboard arter me in th' Indian Ocean an' the ship agoin' ten knots, an' a tumblin' sea, an' saved my life, it's little enough I can do for them as belonged ter him. So don't yer go ter break my heart by refusin' any little trifles like them as it;'s a joy ter me ter bring ye an' the little gal." No feeling of delicacy or pride that might make her shrink for a moment from accepting Jack's gifts could stand against these words and the look in his face and the tremor in his voice as he uttered them. Her look of hesitation vanished as she took both his hands in hers and thanked him with a full heart and moistened eyes.
Half an hour later Jack and I took our leave, after he had leaned over the bed, in response to a plaintive "Please come here dear Mr. Jack," and let her kiss his cheeks again.
We were no sooner outside when, bursting with curiosity, I asked Jack to tell me all about the woman and the sick girl and how he came to be playing Santa claus in this fashion.
What follows is the tale of an old shipmate, who died of fever while loading elephant tusks in a Yankee brig "on the Coast of Africky," as Jack tells it. And a promise Jack made five years earlier to his dying shipmate, Ben, to visit his widow and girl child in Brooklyn and do whatever he could for them. It took Jack four years and more than a few tall tales, all of them lies, about how many times Ben had miraculously saved Jack's life from peril. All in the effort as to just how to convince the proud widow and child to accept the proper gifts without it seen as an act of charity. It meant so much to Jack for the girl to have those things.
On the ferry boat ride back to South Street Jack blurts out:
"I say, boy, d'ye think them lies war so very bad"?
"Jack," I said, "I think they were the whitest, squarest, cleanest lies I ever heard of."
The trip to a Cherry Street slop shop the next morning was most amusing for Hatch as Jack proved to be quite the accomplished bargain hunter and knew just what to get for a three month winter voyage, and got it all at a good price. The question came up about what to spend the last 75 cents of Hatch's remaining money on and Jack pipes up:
"Ye see, boy," he said, "yer sure to be bloomin' seasick at first, an' thar's nothin' like good whiskey for seasickness."
Jack continues with such serious strong arguments and samples the various brands. The last 75 cents goes to the purchase of a half-gallon of the favorite Blue Blazes brand whiskey. All the while the naive young teetotaler Hatch ponders the purchase of this "gracious remedy" to be taken "for medicinal purposes only." Thinking that, yes, indeed he is fortunate that Jack had thought about him in this way and to have brought it aboard the New World with the jug carefully concealed in his new corn husk mattress carried by Jack as he walked up the gangplank. The story that comes out concerning this jug of whiskey and of the mysterious disappearance of its contents over the course of the voyage is hilarious.
Hatch's first voyage before the mast now begins in earnest and Hatch paints a lively picture of the departure of the New World as the stevedores and longshoremen come aboard. They guide the Liverpool packet along with a tugboat from her wharf down the stream to where she is anchored to await her passengers and crew. The following morning the boarding house runners soon arrive in small boats delivering a motley crew in all stages of drunkenness and sobriety. Hatch took note:
I did not know that crews of these handsome ships were made up in part of the scum of the sea, with a considerable misture of the roughs and toughs of Cherry and Water Streets and with only a sprinkling of genuine deep-sea sailors of the better type. All this I found out later on.
Hatch pays rapt attention in trying to do the very best job he can at whatever the officers ask of him and soon learns that sailors have a way of doing just what they are ordered to do and in not seeking out something to do on their own. Hatch rapidly adjusts to his new life aboard the New World and takes it all in. He is intrigued with the three classes of passengers right from the time of their arrival. Hatch dutifully records his recollections of the moment and captures the hundred or more passengers as they gathered on the deck of the New World. Of particular interest is Professor Hendrik Van Speigel of Holland, the "bug hunter." Hatch and the rest of the crew take an interest in the Professor's odd activities over the course of the voyage.
At last the tide turns, the anchor is heaved up and two tugs come along each side ready to escort the New World down the bay through the Narrows to the open sea. At that time the choosing of the watches ceremony takes place with all hands mustered, except for the two that were delivered drunk and unconscious in the slings earlier.
The following passage of what happened to these two the next morning is most amusing.
The following incident will illustrate the manner in which sailors were sometimes sent to sea, and how little their own volition had to do with it. The next morning, the two men who had been drunk in the forecastle appeared on deck. Looking about him, one of them asked, "What ship's this, an' where's she bound?"
The Pelican of the Sea, bound for the North Pole, answered one.
The Devil's Frying Pan, bound for the equator," said another.
"The Sailor's Grave Yard, bound for the west coast of Africa, put in a third.
"Shut up mates, tell the man the truth; how'd you like to be fooled yourself if you'd been shanghaied," said another with apparent indignation at the unfeeling levity of those who had spoken.
"I say shipmate, you're in luck, you're aboard the Flying Demijohn, loaded with New England rum in bulk in the hold, and a cargo of gals 'tween decks, bound for Californy to load back with gold. Everybody is to have all the rum he can hold goin' out, and as much of the home cargo as he can walk off with, when we're discharged."
"Look here matey, I've got a patent jaw greaser in my chest for a prize for the boss liar of the fo'c'sle of this 'ere ship, whatever her name may be, or wheresomever she be bound to. It's yours, matey, to command," said the man. Then he walked deliberately away, climbed the ladder to the topgallant forecastle, went forward and looked over the bow, the New World had for a figurehead a woooden statue of Christopher Columbus, leaning forward at an angle of forty-five degrees and holding out the globe in his right hand. The man leaned forward over the cathead until he caught sight of the figure with which he apparently carried on a conversation, wagging his head and gesticulating with his fists. When he came back to the group of sailors with whom he had held the dialogue above related, he quietly said, "It's all right. Christopher an' I have been shipmates afoore, an' I'd as lief he'd pilot me across this 'ere frog pond as any other wooden-headed old admiral ever sailed."
Then he turned to with the rest, and nothing more was said on the subject, except that one man remarked in a soliloquizing way, "There's nothing like Cherry Street rum with a little opium juice in it, to send a man aboard ship so that he don't know Christopher Columbus from the Pope o' Rome 'til next day, besides savin' him the trouble of climbing the side ladder by giving him a h'ist in the slings."
Many years later Hatch was reading the above passage to his family.
When I reached this point in my narrative, and was reading over what I had written to my assembled family one evening, my youngest daughter (aged 18) broke in with "It seems to me you are a long time getting to sea, Papa. You have written enough to make a book already and you haven't got out of the bay yet."
"My dear," I said, "you have no idea of what it is to get a young fellow off to sea on his first voyage. You've never tried it."
"Well, Papa," she persisted, if your ship is as slow as your story and you really cross the ocean it will be ages before you get back."
Well, then my dear, suppose I leave out all about the Brooklyn Bridge and the Statue of Liberty and-"
"Oh, Papa, you goose, they weren't around then."
"Right, my dear. Well, suppose I leave out whatever was there, and get outside of Sandy Hook at once."
"I think you had better," she said.
So after 53 pages the New World is at long last beyond the Narrows and Hatch catches the moment splendidly.
Having dropped tugboats and pilot, with all plain sail set and straining at the yards in a strong northeast wind, the New World was laying her course for the Gulf Stream.
There was a buoyancy in her rise and fall to the ocean swell, and a sort of exultant dash in the way she threw the spray from her bow that seemed to say she was glad to be free at last of the wharf, the anchor, and puffing steam tugs, clear of shoals and buoys and muddy channels, with the broad ocean before her and fathomless depths of blue and briny water under her keel. The ocean too seemed glad to welcome her, and tossed her on its bosom and caressed her sides and smiled in the bright sunlight as if in playful satisfaction, while the rush and whistle of the wind through the rigging was not without its note of gladness.
All this seeming exhilaration of ship and sea and wind was contagious. Passengers and crew caught it and reveled in it, forgetful for the time of the coming perils of storm and fog, and of the horrors of impending seasickness.
Towards night I was on the poop aft, where I had been sent for some trifling task. When it was finished, I lingered for a last look at the land now fast sinking from sight astern. My blood had been racing and my nerves thrilling all day with the general exhilaration that had pervaded the ship, and with the excitement of the novelty of it all to me. Mingling with these feelings there now came a pensive mood, softening but not subduing them. As the twilight gathered, I realized for the first time that I was loosing sight of the land on which all my life had been spent. The sun went down in a blaze of glory behind the Highlands. Fleecy clouds, through which gleamed streaks and patches of blue sky, hung from the zenith down the western sky, forming themselves into strange and fantastic shapes, and taking on brilliant hues of crimson and gold and purple and orange as they neared the horizon.
Young Hatch's adventurous voyage before the mast now takes flight in earnest. As he tests his mettle aloft and with the rest of the crew and passengers, and catches every moment with the same highly intense first-person prose over the next 50 pages or so covering the 17-day passage to Liverpool that comes vividly to life. As this review is becoming lengthy, I'll leave it to the readers to discover these delightful pages on their own as young Hatch comes of age before the mast. Hatch is thoroughly enthralled with his adventures and performs every task with promptness and vigor winning the respect of the mates and successfully stands up to the bullies of the forecastle. All the while under the tutelage and watchful eye of Jack.
Ashore at Liverpool, however, the role is reversed for it seems that Jack just cannot resist the myriad of vises that sailors have to deal with upon reaching port, among them the many Liverpool dives and demon rum. A concerned Hatch tries to reciprocate and keep a watchful eye on his Jack-tar companion. All with good reason for soon after the New World's arrival at the Waterloo Dock Hatch agrees to loan Jack half a crown and gives Jack one of the two precious gold sovereigns that Captain Knight has advanced him as an advance of two months pay.
"I'm goin' ashore on an errand for the mate," he said. "I'll take the sov'rin' an' get it broke an' take out half a crown an' bring back the change."
Hatch duly notes that:
Nothing was seen of Jack for three days.
Searching for Jack over those three evenings proves to be an eye opening experience for young Hatch as his naivete melts away trying to hunt down his wayward Jack-tar companion who was off on a spree that would last "among the vilest dens of Liverpool" as long as the sovereign. Hatch is forced to come to terms with his concern and feelings for Jack and his behavior ashore. He duly decides not to judge Jack too harshly with the realization that the behavior of sailors while in port is about as predictable as the tides and just as impossible to change. Jack is, of course, filled with remorse and slow to confront Hatch who has to follow Jack up the ratlines aloft through the rigging before Hatch " . . .had him fairly treed at last."
After some coaxing, he allowed himself to be persueded, and then he told me how he had gone and got the sovereign exchanged, as he had proposed: how he had taken out a half crown and tied the balance up in a corner of a handkerchief to bring to me; how he had met an old shipmate and treated him out of the half crown; how the old shipmate treated him in return; how a girl came and sat on his knee, when he had to treat her and the old shipmate again; and how the old shipmate had treated him and the girl and so on, until in a confused whirl of old shipmates and girls he had finally lost his bearings all together; and could give no further account of himself, until he found himself in his bunk aboard the ship that morning with a suit of old clothes in place of his own and his pockets empty.
But Hatch is really just more curious as to what happened to his friend and not about the fate of the sovereign and is determined to try and keep a watchful eye over his friend in the future whenever they are ashore.
The following three weeks in Liverpool are busy ones for young Hatch and the rest of the crew with repairs of the rigging and elsewhere aboard the ship, handling cargo and the like. A very busy time and young Hatch reports that "I had a hand in everything that was going on." Young Hatch feels invigorated in a healthy way by all his adventures before the mast and now takes pride in all his daily activities while in port. He soon catches the eye of the captain who grants Hatch a kindly nod of recognition and makes him proud.
The four boys stayed at a boarding house and would return there every day after they knocked off work at six o'clock. The boarding house where the boys stayed was of a better class and separate from the sailor boarding houses and this was done in kindly regards to their morals. Thus leaving the boys after dinner to experience on their own ". . .as much of the wickedness and temptations of sailor life in Liverpool as I would consent to see or as they themselves were willing to encounter."
The other three boys had been to Liverpool before and knew how to have a good time there within the limits of respectably and show Hatch around the town.
One night after dinner the four boys attend a temperance meeting, a novelty around Liverpool at that time, to watch their Captain Knight deliver an address. The boys invite Jack to come along with a half dozen or so other crewmembers. Jack is a bit under the influence at the time and not readily prepared to take center stage when called upon by his captain as a shining example of just what happens to a crack Jack-tar sailor ashore once he has had a taste of the demon rum. Put on the spot, Jack is encouraged by the captain to give them a piece of his mind and Jack dutifully gives them his yarn. Hatch captures it all as Jack waxes most eloquently growing more poetic as he rambles on. Toward the end of the meeting Jack signs a pledge of sobriety and Hatch doesn't see his friend drunk again for the remainder of their stay in Liverpool nor over the voyage home.
Sundays after church were days to explore the limits of Liverpool and beyond and the boys had many memorable adventures. Then Hatch comes down with cholera and is sick for a week. The captain sees that everything is done for Hatch's comfort and sends Jack to look after him. Hatch is nursed back to health with the help of his Landlord, "a good-natured Scotchman," and his firey remedy for "chol'ry morbus." Hatch aptly describes the unknown dish that he is forced to drink.
I first smelled it and then sipped a bit of it. It was very hot, and it smelled and tasted very strong of vinegar and salt and red pepper and mustard and other unsavory or fiery things, the prevailing impression being that of hot brim seasoned with bilge water, gunpowder and live coals. After some hesitation, spurred on by the landlord's "Bolt 'er, laddie, 'ithout thinkin' o'er much wat ye're doin,'"and Jack's "Dowse yer, 'ead lights boy, an' let her go," I shut my eyes and swallowed the mess.
After three weeks in Liverpool the New World, with three hundred and twenty emigrants and cargo aboard, finds the fair winds along with the tide and departs down the Mersey.
Hatch paints a picture about as real as it gets about the perilous North Atlantic winter homeward passage that the sailors faced aboard the New World at the severest time of the year. He also takes a serious look at the qualities, brutalities and conflicts of sailing men and their captains and just what makes for a successfully run ship and looks to the quarterdeck for answers. Conditions aboard the New World however were far better as far as the crew was concerned than conditions aboard other packet ships. Although the heavy seas and icy dangerous conditions aloft they now faced would certainly test their mettle, among them young Hatch who catches it all from his perspective aloft while Jack keeps a watchful eye on his young companion. Lots of lively coverage here including the daring rescue by Jack and Hatch of a sailor frozen to the yard and ropes for which they receive the recognition of their grateful captain, crew and passengers.
Replacing torn sails aloft was a difficult and risky business and the gales, sleet, snow and hurricane winds meant that repeated trips had to be made aloft while the storms raged. It got even more dangerous when the dense fog rolled in as Hatch, aloft at the time, describes in one of my favorite passages from the book about a chance encounter with another large packet ship.
A day or two later the wind had shifted to southeast, and, being now on the Banks of New Foundland, we began to have a taste of foggy weather. Sometimes it was impossible to see one end of the ship from the other, and a man going aloft seemed to be climbing into the clouds by a ladder whose invisible top rested somewhere in the sky.
A big ship at sea in a dense fog is the theatre of many weird and ghostly effects. Sounds become exaggerated and distorted and the sense of their distance and locality becomes confused and contradictory. A voice shouting from aloft will sometimes seem as if it came from some distant vessel hidden in the fog, while ordinary conversation between men in the rigging will at other times come to the deck with a distinctness that suggests an invisible companion speaking at your side. Standing at the wheel, you seem to be steering a fragment of a ship into misty regions of nowhere. Aloft, you find yourself swinging in the air on a stick or rope without visible support, and with familiar voices and confused and mingled sounds reaching your ears that might be echoes out of space for all that you can see of their source. Out on the jib boom it is a queer sensation of riding on one end of a huge seesaw with the crest of a wave for a fulcrum and an invisible playmate at the other end.
On one of the foggiest of these foggy days, while, with half a gale of wind on the port quarter and under short sail, we were making nine or ten knots an hour, suddenly came a sharp cry from the lookout on the forecastle, "Breakers right ahead, Sir," and almost in the same breath from the mate, "Hard a port!" and then out of the fog ahead "Starboard there, lively," and, in an instant, there loomed up out of the mist the head sails of a large ship close hauled on the wind just across our bow. Then her foresail and foretopsail drew out past our headsails, all above her topsails being invisible. With a loud flapping of her canvas she came up into the wind in answer to her helm, and, as we fell off, we passed each other so close that our yards almost touched. As her stern swung across our bow and fell into a hollow of the sea, we were so near that, looking down from our topgallant forecastle, I could see the man at her wheel shifting his quid from cheek to cheek, as he recovered his helm to port, and cast an eye up at us. Her sails filled again, and before we had begun to realize the peril and escape, she shot out of sight into the fog, the rattling of her blocks and the voices of her men coming to us with strange and ghostly directness out of the invisible, as might those of a phantom ship.
The stormy passage led to the discomfort of all the passengers and Hatch duly records their hardships. Particularly those of steerage women passengers with young children, all of them refugees from the terrible Irish potato famine, and the difficulties that they faced with preparing meals in the galley. Hatch and the other boys bravely stood up to the insensitive bullies for the weaker passengers in acquiring precious space at the galley stove so that the women, children and feeble old men got the chance to eat their warm food. At other times the boys would try to insure that the sick got medical attention. Or they had to coax reluctant passengers to the decks while their quarters were aired. Then there were the burials at sea, one of them of a young child, that greatly effects Hatch.
Hatch is standing the middle watch on the lookout forward when he spies "what looked like two parallel stars close to the horizon." They were the same Highland Lights that had followed the ship out to sea. Sandy Hook was dead to windward twenty miles away although it took them three days against gale winds, snow, sleet and freezing rains before they glided in past the Hook. The next day they were towed up the East River to the wharf they had departed two months and ten days before.
Theboarding house runners greeted the crew at the moment the New World arrived at the wharf and soon the sailors were off with their rowdy hosts much to Hatch's dread for Jack was among them.
The boys stayed on for a day or so along with a few of the steadier men to help the officers put the ship to rights. The next day Hatch departs for Jersey City across the Hudson River to visit relatives whom Hatch astonishes with his new found health and vigor. Hatch writes:
That morning I visited the ship, received the balance of my pay, recovered my gold watch and shore trunk, and bade the officers and boys goodbye: not without regretful emotions, for my life among them, though rough, had been pleaqsant and genial, and broightened by many kindly acts.
A few days later, as I was going to Brooklyn with a young lady, having resumed my shore clothes and covered my mahogany colored hands with a new pair of kid glove sand my head with a tall hat, I ran up against Jack, just as we were about to cross South Street to Fulton Ferry. He did not recognize me in that rig until I called him by name, when he overwhelmed me with expressions of joy at meeting me again, for, as he explained, he thought he had lost me forever.
The young lady looked on with amused astonishment, the forcible manner in which Jack, just mellow with whiskey, gave vent to his feelings, being quite new to her. Presently he asked me to take a drink with him in the saloon on the corner, "Jes one" he pleaded "with an old shipmate." I tried to explain to him, half in whispers and half in pantomime, that it was impossible. "Don't you see, Jack, that I have a young lady with me," I remonstrated, shaking my head and pointing my thumb over my shoulder.
"Never mind, boy, bring the gal along too," roared out Jack and then turning toward her and saluting in his best man-of-war style, "Beggin' your pardon, miss, but you won't mind takin' a drink with yer sweetheart's old shipmate?"
This was too much for the young lady, and she darted across the street toward the ferry entrance, convulsed with mixed sensations of amusement and fright, and hardly knowing whether she ought to laugh or cry or be angry. I finally coaxed Jack to let me off for that time, assuring him of my undying affection, and, crossing the street rejoined her. As we passed into the ferry entrance, I turned and waved my hand to Jack. He saluted in return with an extra flourish, and swinging his cap in the air, called upon the bystanders to give three cheers.
And that was the last I saw of Jack for thirty years.
Alfrederick Smith Hatch
Over the next few years Hatch frequently sought to hunt down Jack along the South Street waterfront. He made a second voyage aboard the New World six months after the return of his first voyage and inquired of Jack among the officers and crew to no avail. He was likewise unsuccessful with inquiries about the Liverpool docks and sailor boarding houses. Back in New York Hatch pays a visit to Ben's widow in Brooklyn and learns that the little girl had died much to his sorrow and that Ben's widow had returned to Maine to live with friends. Finally after a few years the hope of ever seeing Jack again begins to fade and Hatch gets on with his life. Which turns out to be that of a highly successful and wealthy Wall Street banker and president of the New York Stock Exchange.
The years pass and Hatch's family grows to eleven children, six girls and five boys. As a man on considerable means he also acquires the extravagances of that age namely mansions and yachts. Although a wealthy man, Hatch never loses his affinity with common sailors and spends the rest of his life devoted to unselfish efforts to try and improve their lives and opens up the Helping Hand for Men, the first rescue mission in the United States.
Thirty years pass and then suddenly, miraculously Jack appears again, this time in Hatch's business office. At first the two do not recognize each other. For over the years Hatch relates:
I had grown into a rather portly middle-aged gentleman with a bald head and side whiskers sprinkled with grey, and with the air of a prosperous man o9f family and business. I was as unlike in appearance to the slip of a youngster I had been thirty years before as well could be. "I'm Mr. Hatch," I said.
After much questioning back and forth the two are at last glad to find themselves in each other's company once again. Jack fills in all the blanks as to where he has been over the past thirty years. Sure enough Jack was shanghaied following his return in the New World thirty years ago just like Hatch had feared and had shipped out on a rotten old bark to the Mediterranean where he almost drowned. He came back to New York on a fruiter. He then shipped out on the Sovereign of the Seas, Donald McKay's giant clipper ship, on her maiden voyage to San Francisco. Jack had caught the gold fever just like everybody else aboard and upon arrival through the Golden Gate he had deserted ship and along with a friend headed for the gold fields. He almost starved to death and barely made it back to San Francisco and shipped out again on another clipper bound for New York. Jack joined the Navy and served aboard the Hartford throughout the Civil War and had an old leg wound scar across his calf to show his friend. After the war Jack went on to serve aboard other clippers to San Francisco and the orient. After years of the seafaring life Jack was getting old and finally did not want to go to sea anymore on long voyages. Also, Jack had found a wife, Clementina, and did not want to be away from her for very long. Over the years Jack had tried to find Hatch till finally an old friend, Mr. Sargent, a former third mate aboard the New World, assured Jack that his old shipmate was no "rich swell" and put Jack on the right path to Hatch's office.
Soon the two old friends are pondering Jack's future prospects as Hatch senses the growing anxiety in his old shipmate who by then was getting on in years, over sixty years old, and not as spry as he used to be. The Sailor's Snug Harbor was out of the question.
By that time Hatch comes up with:
"Well, Jack, I have been thinking something that perhaps will suit you and Clementina, and fit all around, " I said. "I am living down the bay right along the water, and have got boats and fishing tackle and about a dozen children-just eleven all told by actual count-five boys and six girls. They are all fond of water and are either paddling around on top of it in the boats, or fishing, or swimming, or wading up to their necks in it, most of the time. They need somebody to watch them and keep them from getting drowned, and to take care of their boats and their fishing things and keep the boathouse in order. Now, how would you like to come out there and live with us, and be boatswain of the place and the captain of the pier and the boat landing, and look after my young sailors, and lend a hand with the gardener now and then, and help with the pigs and chickens?
The Resolute
At first Jack can't believe his ears and thought that his old shipmate was trying to make a fool out of him. But then it sinks in that, yes, the offer is real, and Jack is ready to sign the articles. So Hatch tells Jack to go visit a nautical outfitting establishment and fit himself with a complete man-of-war or yacht uniform, whichever suited him, charge it to Hatch's account, and to return to the office at 5 o'clock. Jack duly returns and Hatch took Jack home with him that afternoon to meet his family.
Theodosia Ruggles Hatch
Jack's final years are spent in happy service to the Hatch family and the household drama unfolds as the time goes by. As well as the saga of Jack's continuous battle with the bottle that at least was waning in his later years. Jack takes to his boathouse duties well, but of prime importance to Hatch is for Jack to keep a careful eye on his growing children while on the water. This concern is well founded for sure enough he saves one of the girls, Dora, from drowning. For this heroic act Jack is forever endeared to the hearts of the entire Hatch family. Jack accompanied the girls on their many outings about the time as the girls rode around the town in their one-horse phaeton with a rumble behind where Jack would ride.
The Hatch sisters are duly concerned with Jack's moral character and are constantly coming up with ways to torment him over his drinking, all, of course, for his own good. Jack, somehow, takes it all in stride as best he can and tries to limit his drinking just to his days off, one day a week. And visits his wife on those days, and tries to keep his drinking to a minimum, or at least tries to hide it from the girls. He also signs very stringent articles that the girls draft. From that point on Jack is very wary of the young teetotalers, but goes on with his many duties about the household while putting up a brave front to the constant bantering from the girls as he is accompanies them on numerous adventures.
One of these adventures is a visit to a photographer to pose with them for a picture, the one shown here. Hatch aptly catches the moment in good style as he does with all the other adventures that are too numerous to mention here being for this review has already dragged on for thirteen pages. Discover this book on your own to catch everything. This is good reading with every page a delight.
The Castle, Tarrytown, New York
Jack accompanies the Hatch Family to their other mansion in the Westchester hills along the Hudson River that fall and is indispensable to the family in these surroundings as well. And so it goes for the rest of Jack's life as he takes on new responsibilities with the same gusto that the Jack-tar sailor showed aboard ship in the performance of his duties.
The fall presidential election of 1880 is one of great interest to Hatch and Jack, as well as Garfield's assassination. Hatch catches the impact that it all has on Jack.
The following autumn Dora is married and there is a touching scene. Later on that winter Jack begins to show signs of failing health, then Jack comes down with a severe cold brought on by a winter's nighttime walk from the railroad station. Jack begins to show great concern that he will be harshly judged by his creator, but Hatch assures his old companion that God isn't going to judge him too harshly. Jack accepts religious counseling from all concerned. Until at last Jack's time came to pass on and in his final moments he is back at sea.
"Aye. Aye. Sir, I be comin'" and fell back.
Hatch catches the final moments of his life long friend.
Denny Hatch, Alfrederick Smith Hatch's great-grandson, writes the "Afterword" chapter of the book and fills everyone in on all the other interesting facts of A.S. Hatch's life, successful business career, numerous philanthropic accomplishments, The New York City Rescue Mission, yachts, and family trivia, all of it interesting. There is more information on a companion Web site: www.jackcorbett.com. There are also a number of black and white photos and illustrations that add to the story, some of which are displayed here with this review. Also a glossary listing of nautical terms and sources. To his credit Denny Hatch has done a fine job with the rescuing and final editing of this manuscript that "has been floating around the Hatch family for over a hundred years in various iterations." Jack Corbett, Mariner is to be released November 14, 2002, and is published by The Quantuck Lane Press and distributed by W.W. Norton Press. The maritime world should rejoice that such a treasure of a book has at long last escaped from the Hatch family archive and arrived in time for the holiday season and should be on everybody's reading list.
You can buy this book from: www.amazon.com / Or from: www.wwnorton.com
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