DIARY OF THOMAS ANGOVE Passenger on the Clipper ship "Schomberg" from Liverpool to Melbourne in 1855. Extract from the remains of his Diary. NB. This was the last voyage of the Colonial Clipper, Schomberg. In 1855, the Schomberg, skippered by the tough, courageous and quick-tempered Captain James “Bully” Forbes, set forth to establish a new England-Australia sailing record. When the ship he once described as "the noblest that ever floated on water" was drifting to disaster on the rocks west of Bass Strait, he strangely seemed to lose interest and opted for the latter destination in his famous signal - "Melbourne or Hell In Sixty Days". Why we do not know. (From BHP "History of the Bass Strait" Series.) - - - One of the men is much elevated by being made President of the Mess and he does all the dirty work such as clean knives and forks, empty the slops for the ladies, etc. and this he does with pleasure to be called "Mr President". The other, the filibuster of the lot, has been exposed to the destroying hand of time for his hair, which was once a fine carroty colour has flown from the top of his head and has reappeared on each side of his face and chin in abundance which puts one in mind of a Southcotte. The other is half-woman and does not figure so high as the former. The weather is truly delightful with a nice breeze. We are in the Trade Winds and tomorrow we hope to be in the Tropics. Our latitude today is 25 17`. Sunday October 21st, 3p.m. Altitude of the sun today was 58 15`. We made a very good run since yesterday, viz 270 miles. Divine service today on the poop at 10.30a.m. And in the afternoon on the quarter deck at 3.30 p.m. We had the church service in the morning. The doctor was the person who preached on the words, "Seek the Lord while he may be found". Of course he read the sermon but it was a very fine sermon according to my idea of the matter; one the poor old Parson Mason should hear instead of "Swearing on the dog in the church". We have still beautiful weather and our ship is gallantly spinning along. The old Admiral Schomberg still points the way and as yet he has not moved the telescope from under his arm although I think he must have washed his face on the night we carried off the main degallant mast. We have no less than thirty-three sails spread on different masts. There is not a ship afloat that carries so much canvas. The main yard is 110 feet long, the main sail about 100 feet in length. Today for the first time I saw a few flying fish. A ship, or rather, a schooner appears on our Larboard side. Some of the Number 8 Mess who have been trying to walk over some of their own party have written a letter today and sent it on the poop to one of their mess-mates who is a widow. She of course does not like it and she does not take the trouble to write a letter but gives it to them right and left. The party with whom she is concerned are chiefly Irish and probably have moved rather above the sphere in which the fleas and lice swarm and for this reason they seem larger to themselves than they do to Englishmen. It strikes me they fancy themselves primary bodies and their neighbours like so many other satellites moving around them. There is evidence of them having been looked to as bodies capable of being magnified by artificial means, such then is the case with the system to which they belong. But those bodies that are to be seen always the same, bodies called fixed stars, whose distance is immeasurable, can scarcely find them in creation. It is a known fact that the highest magnifying power in the world cannot make a fixed star appear anything larger. They are without the reach of the telescope as far as its magnifying power goes and if they move at all they must move in a circle that circumscribes the whole of that system which is to be brought nearer by human artificial means. In short these Irish are revolving planets with their satellites abounding with lice and fleas and the others are those fixed bodies that little is known about. No 1Cabin and the Mess have this afternoon re-baptised three of No 8 Mess. The first is called "Big Ben" for his size and voice. The other, who does the dirty work, is called "Nincompoop” for his tendency to condescend to turn his hand or his mind for anything. The third poor man, miserable hermaphrodite, or tool for the lot, has received with due honour the name of "Lickspittle" and by tomorrow each one will be called by his name by Mess No 1. I expect to hear of a breeze tomorrow on account of the above letter. Monday October 22nd We have a fine breeze this morning and the ship is on her course speeding away at the rate of 9 knots per hour. The breeze which was anticipated last night came on this morning about 10.00. The captain and the doctor came down and of course wanted to know the meaning of the letter sent on the poop. In the first place Ben attempted to show the letter had no reference to the Public Mess but only the Private Mess that each individual had contributed to one common store. He attempted to show the letter only wished for the widow to retire from the Private Mess and the letter was written in that sort of style that little else could be inferred there from. But Big Ben was not exactly up to what his friend Nincompoop had done. He had been to the captain and apologised for signing his name to the letter in question. But when the captain reminded him of this he would have denied the apology but the doctor was witness against him. The time had now arrived for a second Babel and the only words that I understood were, "I beg your pardon Sir", repeated by each one chattering against the other like so many jays and cross fencing like a second Inkerman. In short it was a real hubbub. The crew was in a hubbub, their master Beelzebub. A collision of these bodies was inevitable. The whole of their planetry system must shortly be dissolved and like the Baselip fabrics of a vision leave not a single wreck behind. The words of a wise man were about to be verified, "Too much familiarity breeds discontent". But here stood the widow who had cast her mite into the (she called a lady) saying she would not relinquish her share of the private or the public Mess to please them and all this affair was quite out of the captain's jurisdiction and therefore the battle is suspended for a little season. By the by, as I am to give a faithful narrative of the incidents that may occur on this ship, it will not perhaps be out of the way of decorum, if I state my opinion why the captain did not give them a rope's ending. The widow lady in question sleeps in the same berth as Miss Hart and the latter is the lady who found herself locked out and because the widow would not withdraw from her berth the Irish Brigade wished her to withdraw from her No 8 Mess. It would scarcely be possible for this Brigade to take anything but a dirty advantage hence their aim at the present one. Latitude 17 25' at a little after noon, sight St Antonio Island. 3 p.m. Still in sight of the island but there is such a haze about that although close to it we cannot distinguish it as we would wish. 6 p.m. out of sight of land again. Several swallows flew about the ship and some in the riggings. 7 p.m. The No 8 Mess went on the bulwarks to sing as usual but the emetic which they gave the commander in the morning had not cleared his stomach and so he ordered them forward if they choosed to sing. 10 p.m. sighted a ship on the starboard bow about four miles off and although it was good light yet we could not make her known. One thing, she shared the fate of all her sister ships. It was her misfortune to be left behind. Our Mess had a little jollification on deck till 1 a.m., drank out of a bottle of brandy and were quite convivial. Tuesday 23rd We had a squall this morning about four o'clock which caused us to furl our skysails. 8 a.m. a good breeze but too much ahead of arm. The captain gives orders to have the royals lowered and the stunsails to be brought down for the south-eastern horizon indicated an approaching storm. All hands were busy at work carrying out the captain's orders, who at the time was calculating the distance of the Buster. The stunsails being down and the halyards being all made ready for a run as soon as the gale had reached us for you must bear in mind sails are not reefed for nothing. In less time than I have been writing the last paragraph the fact was revealed a dark ring of water was seen in the distance heading towards the ship.