A TERRIBLE EXPERIENCE IN A TURRET SHIP

My Recollection of the Great Blizzard.

Chums , 20 September 1893

AM a Cockney pure and simple, being born in the "big I city," and the greater part of my life has been spent within the dingy precincts of a Government office. So when I received a pressing invitation from my son, an officer serving on board H.M. turret-ship Ajax * to join him for a short trip, I gladly accepted, the longest voyage I had ever being on a river boat between London Bridge and Gravesend. It was the early part of March, 1891, and the vessel was to start in less than forty-eight hours; so packing my portmanteau, the following morning found me en route for the North.

Speeding along through an ever-changing panorama, the time passed pleasantly away, and that evening found me safely deposited at Princes Pier, where a small steam pinnace was in readiness to convey me to the warship lying off the "Tail of the Bank."

A few minutes sufficed to take us alongside, and I could not help noticing the low hull of the huge ironclad, scarce eight feet above the level of the water. A couple of steps and I was standing on the upper deck, where I received a warm welcome.

It was now that the vast size of the marine monster dawned on me, the enormous breadth of beam, and the massive armour- plated turrets, out of which peeped two big 38-ton guns.

(The above image, that accompanied the original article, is most likely of HMS Devastation. See end of article for image of HMS Ajax.)

At each end of the ship there arose a large superstructure connected by a bridge, from which at sea the navigation is conducted, the upper deck being uninhabited except in smooth water. A small iron door or gateway led into the interior, and here the beautifully burnished stanchions and rails, the shining rows of rifles and cutlasses, the polished capstan and the bright cheery interior of the officers' cabins, formed a pleasing contrast to the sombre black and grey of the outer hull. It was now close to the dinner hour, so donning my sombre evening dress, in striking contrast to the blue and gold naval uniforms, I was ushered into the ward-room, where I found most of the officers chatting round the fire awaiting the bugle-call for dinner.

After the preliminary introductions I had time to look round and mark the snug appearance of the mess, with its circular row of lounges, substantial if not elegant easy chairs, the dinner table with its shining array of plate and glass, and the neat trim attire of the marine servants in their spotless white tunics and blue facings.

The walls or bulkheads were hung with a varied collection of pictures, the whole being illuminated by the soft glow of electric lamps.

After doing justice to a good repast we adjourned to the smoking-room, where yarn after yarn—told with that verve, the special privilege of sailors—made the time fly only too quickly, and the voice of the master-at-arms announcing six bells (11 o'clock), at which hour smoking and ward-lights are extinguished, brought the evening to a close; so' wishing my hosts "good-night," I retired to my cabin and was soon fast asleep.

Next morning I was aroused at an early hour by the splashing of water overhead and water sliding of buckets along the decks, announcing that the day had been ushered in by the invariable man-of-war routine of washing decks; so after a tub I dressed and went on deck. Here I found active preparations going on for departure: the boats in board were resting on their crutches out of reach of heavy seas, volumes of smoke intermingled with jets of steam were issuing from the funnel; the captain and navigating officer occupied the foremost bridge; while aft the officer of the watch was giving orders to hoist the cutter just returned from the stewards, bringing the morning milk and final supplies of bread and vegetables for the voyage.

The merry sound of the fiddle and tramp of the men round the capstan were absent, these being now almost things of the past, a special steam engine doing the work in all large ships. In the present instance the vessel lay at moorings, and at the order "Slip," the chain ran out with a lively rattle, the ponderous engines in response to the telegraph from the bridge began to move, and we were soon threading our way down the beautiful waters of the Clyde, past mountain and loch, by many a pretty watering place and lordly mansion, the broad waters of the Firth opening out as we approached the sea. During the afternoon we passed Ailsa Craig (with its myriads of sea-birds soaring and circling round), standing out gaunt and grim like a giant sentinel; and that night we were wending our way down the Irish Channel.

The following morning broke clear and dry, with a bright sun and sharp, bracing northerly breeze, very welcome to me after the foggy, murky atmosphere of the great Metropolis, and I began to think that after all life at sea had its pleasant side.

On the third day at an early hour we rounded Land's End; but how matters had changed! The barometer had commenced to fall quickly, and a biting easterly wind blew in our teeth with a rapidly-rising sea. In the afternoon the decks were all awash, the sea breaking over them in broad sheets of milk-white foam, the only habitable open-air space being the superstructure, but even up there the spray was flying in drenching showers, and before 4 p.m. the fore chart and wheel-house had to be abandoned for the more sheltered position aft. The sea now began to increase in volume with white angry crests, and as the ponderous ironclad forced her way through rather than over it, tons of water fell with a heavy thud on the massive decks, rolling off the sides in broad cascades resembling a miniature Niagara; while meantime the barometer continued to fall with startling rapidity.

Heavily-laden outward-bound vessels passed in quick succession, scudding before the fast-rising gale, their snow white sails and foam-swept sides standing out in pleasing relief to the wild watery expanse.

Towards sunset the weather thickened considerably, so soundings were taken, and our position reckoned to be at the back of the Bill of Portland, as the waves had somewhat moderated, allowing us to be under a lee. The wind now blew with the force of a gale, with blinding showers of sleet and snow, and as it was found to correctly verify our position, course was shaped seaward, and we proceeded out into the Channel, the near proximity of the Shambles rendering any attempt to reach Portland too risky and dangerous.

As we cleared the land, the wind increased to hurricane force, and green seas, every moment growing in velocity and magnitude, broke in great volumes over the fore part.

Shortly after this, the ship heading up Channel and barely making a knot an hour, the huge wooden stopper which fits into the hawse-pipe (through which the cable runs out) was driven in, and with each plunge of the heavy mass, tons of water were forced into the cable deck, flooding it to a depth of over 18 inches, and this enormous inrush rendered any attempt to replace it impossible, the men being washed back against the cable bitts. As the ship pitched and rolled, the water sweeping over the coamings found its way below to the lower and citadel decks, turning them into a vast swamp. The steam-pumps were now set to work, and this was continued throughout the first and middle watches, 500 tons an hour being thus ejected, and even this rate at times seemed barely sufficient to keep the water under.

Earlier in the day the upper half-port of the after turret, weighing between one and two hundred-weight, was washed away, and this formed another means of ingress, while considerable quantity of water found its way below through the flaps of the turrets. As it was hopeless to try to replace the hawse-plug steaming hard to sea, the helm was put over, and we ran before it, causing us to roll heavily; and now the noise became deafening as chairs, tables and everything movable scampered from side to side. Ward- room servants flew about chasing refractory articles of furniture amidst a general din of broken crockery and smashing glass.

On the lower deck mess cans, cooking utensils, ditty boxes, and other unsecured articles banged about with a clatter and clash resembling pandemonium, while mixed with these tea, sugar, butter, flour, bread, pickles, and other comestibles formed a strange heterogeneous mass, rolling pell-mell together in the rushing waters.

My nerves being unused to this babel, I thought I would venture on deck, but here the elements were making equally clamorous discord.. Hatchway covers and tarpaulins flapped in the wind with a noise like thunder, accompanied by the rattle of the ropes against the masts, and above all the hoarse roar of the winds as they shrieked and howled through the rigging. Emerging on to the superstructure, my breath was fairly taken away; the sleet and snow beat with blinding, cutting force into my face, and I could scarcely keep my feet.

Leaning against the bulwarks, binoculars in hand, and peering into darkness was a muffled, bearded form in a waterproof, and a huge woolen comforter round his neck. This proved to be the officer of the watch, to whom I remarked on the wildness of the night, but the roar of the wind either prevented my voice being heard, or he was too intently employed watching for signs of passing vessels to notice me. Occasionally a dim light appeared to rise out of the seething waters, flying past at almost railway speed, and scarcely seen before it was lost astern in the inky blackness of the night. As the great ship plunged into the mighty waves dense showers of salt spray came sweeping aft, towering high above the top of the funnel, and dripping in tiny icicles from the masts and yards, while rigging, boats, bulwarks and every prominent object became outlined in delicate tracery of purest white.

Who can tell at such a time the thoughts and feelings of the one solitary being on whom rests the safety of the ship as well as the lives on many a storm-tossed barque, as with strained vision he peers through the blinding mist into the wild waste of waters, exerting every nerve t discover some light or sound that may indicate the near approach of a passing vessel?

To think that one touch of the mighty ram on some crowded mail-steamer and its human freight may in a few moments be launched into eternity; or the awful results of coming in contact with those iron sides almost like a breakwater in their massive strength!

Glad indeed was I to return to the warmth and shelter between decks, thinking of the still weary hours of anxious watching amidst the biting blasts of the winter night before that solitary figure could seek repose. Throughout the night the storm continued with unabated violence. At one time the steam-steering gear broke down, and once more the crash of glass and falling of things innumerable formed a medley of sounds more diversified than pleasant. Carpenters wandered about the decks securing everything movable, and trying to stop leaky scuttles and ports. These seemed particularly bad in the ward-room, which in keeping with the rest of the ship was soon a pool of ever-shifting water; and I was glad to at last retire to my bunk—not, however to sleep for the continual creaking of bulwarks, the heavy thud of seas against the ship's side, the patter-patter of water down the ladder-ways, the uneasy motion of the ship, the monotonous thud of the twin-screws, and never- ending tramp of feet overhead, formed a babel of sounds so foreign to my unaccustomed ears as to defy rest; and so the weary night wore on. Towards daybreak the wind lulled and we were able to make out the Shambles lightship away on the port bow, and soon after we were anchored under the sheltering lee of Portland breakwater.

We were to go on to Chatham, but I had had enough of this—my first real wiff of the briny, and was only too glad to get on shore again, mentally vowing I would never again risk the possibility of spending another "wild night in a turret-ship."

* Guard ship at Greenock.

HMS Ajax showing position of turrets. The Illustrated London News , 21 July 1887

One of the utensils being thrown about by the storm. Webmaster's collection.