And, I'm back. Miss me? Just time enough today for a look at the word iron at sea and on the dock. And we're not just talking about the famous ironclads CSS Virginia (ex-Merrimack) and USS Monitor here.
So let us start, then, with ironclad vessels. Also spoken of as ironcased, coated or plated, these were the ships, emerging in the 19th century, entirely encased in iron plates. The trick of making such vessels seaworthy was one that led to the practice of putting plate on only specific parts that were more open to missiles until the dawn of the 20th century iron age ship.
By the 19th century, most ships had some iron parts. Iron work was the general name for these and any pieces of iron used in the construction of ships or equipment for ships. Iron bound blocks were those fitted with iron strops. The "iron horse" was the latter-day iron railing of the head attached most usually to the fore- or boom-sheet. A ship was said to be iron-sick when her iron work was coming loose from the timbers and her sheathing nails are rusted. A sorry condition that no right-thinking sailor would allow.
A coast may be spoken of as iron-bound when it is made up of rocks that are predominately perpendicular to the sea as they rise up from it. These are dangerous shores indeed, and should be avoided at all costs.
A ship may be said to be in irons when, as Admiral Smyth explains in The Sailor's Word Book:
... by mismanagement, she is permitted to come up in the wind and lose her way; so that, having no steerage, she must either be boxed off on the former track, or fall off on the other; for she will not cast one way or the other, without bracing in the yards.
Irons are the tools used by caulkers, of which my grandfather was proudly one, to hammer oakum into the wooden seams of a vessel. These are sometimes known as boom irons, probably for their loud racket while in use. Grandpa went deaf caulking. Irons were also, of course, the bilboes that would be fitted around a miscreant sailor's ankles to keep him both in place and in discomfort. Sailors, with their sarcastic wit, might euphemistically refer to same as "iron garters."
And a ship might be lovingly spoken of as having "iron-sides" when she seemed immune to the blasts of enemy cannon. Here in the U.S., we still know one of our first frigates, USS Constitution, as "Old Ironsides."
Thus ends another addition of SMS. Fair winds and following sees, Brethren, until next we meet...
Header: Hudson River Under the Moonlight by M. F. Hendrik de Haas via American Gallery
Showing posts with label USS Constitution. Show all posts
Showing posts with label USS Constitution. Show all posts
Saturday, May 11, 2013
Friday, March 1, 2013
Booty: From Far off Shores
Over at the wonderful blog of the USS Constitution Museum, last Wednesday's post told of the wartime letters of a sailors wife at home namely Abigail Chew. Abigail was married to Constitution's purser, Thomas J. Chew, who saw action in the Atlantic and Mediterranean during the War of 1812. What the post offers of their letters shows two people who are very much endeared to one another and who have that wonderful style of writing that is both personal and fluent, and that is almost completely lost in our current milieu: "C U L8R" etc. *sigh*
What caught my eye, aside from that, was the lovely set of jewelry shown above and currently on display at the museum. Known once upon a time - in Abigail's day for instance - as a parure, such sets usually included a necklace, earrings, a pair of bracelets and either a brooch or a diadem. It may be that the set above had all those things at one time or that it came to Abigail just as it is shown. The cameo jewelry is made of coral, a very popular choice in the first two decades of the 19th century on both sides of the Atlantic. Also of note are the screw-backed earrings. By this time, particularly in conservative areas of the U.S. such as New England, piercing of the ears was on the decline. Screw-backed earrings would continue in favor through the Victorian era and even make a short comeback in the 1940s and '50s. I remember my mother having more than one pair.
This lovely set was acquired by Thomas somewhere in the Mediterranean, and may very well have ended up in his hands as proper booty. Foreign sailors were a popular target for the selling of stolen goods by local thieves and pirates in many ports around the world. It's almost certain that Thomas purchased this beautiful gift for his wife, but how the seller came to have it is open to quite a bit of speculation.
Click over to Log Lines and enjoy their fascinating posts that make the history and the people of USS Constitution live on. I'll wager you'll enjoy the site as much as I do. Happy Friday!
What caught my eye, aside from that, was the lovely set of jewelry shown above and currently on display at the museum. Known once upon a time - in Abigail's day for instance - as a parure, such sets usually included a necklace, earrings, a pair of bracelets and either a brooch or a diadem. It may be that the set above had all those things at one time or that it came to Abigail just as it is shown. The cameo jewelry is made of coral, a very popular choice in the first two decades of the 19th century on both sides of the Atlantic. Also of note are the screw-backed earrings. By this time, particularly in conservative areas of the U.S. such as New England, piercing of the ears was on the decline. Screw-backed earrings would continue in favor through the Victorian era and even make a short comeback in the 1940s and '50s. I remember my mother having more than one pair.
This lovely set was acquired by Thomas somewhere in the Mediterranean, and may very well have ended up in his hands as proper booty. Foreign sailors were a popular target for the selling of stolen goods by local thieves and pirates in many ports around the world. It's almost certain that Thomas purchased this beautiful gift for his wife, but how the seller came to have it is open to quite a bit of speculation.
Click over to Log Lines and enjoy their fascinating posts that make the history and the people of USS Constitution live on. I'll wager you'll enjoy the site as much as I do. Happy Friday!
Monday, January 28, 2013
People: The Face of a Hero
I don't know many people who are involved in the business of history, if such it can be called, that are particularly interested in what the people whose era they are focusing on looked like. I have read many an unfortunately dry history book that treats the people it is allegedly informing us about like faceless automatons. It is an unfortunate problem that, I personally believe, contributes to the overt hatred of history that so many students suffer from.
For writers of historical fiction, artists and true lovers of particular historical figures, what our ancestors looked like is not only necessary to know, it can become an obsession. That's why this brief but wonderfully informative post over at Face 2 Face, the blog of the National Portrait Gallery at the Smithsonian, fascinates the heck out of me.
The tale of Commodore William Bainbridge, one of the first fighting captains in the U.S. Navy, is full of dizzying highs and claustrophobic lows. Bainbridge commanded the schooner Retaliation when she became the first ship lost to an enemy by the U.S. during the Quasi-War with France. He bore the ignominy of having to fly the Algerian flag at the masthead of the frigate George Washington while transporting the Dey of that country. Finally, back on Barbary shores once again, his ship Philadelphia grounded in Tripoli harbor and the Commodore and his men were taken prisoner and enslaved for a brief but no doubt brutal time.
After each incident, Bainbridge was exonerated by the navy board. It is a sure thing, however, that his own conscience was not so easily cleared. Finally, after a stint captaining merchant vessels, Bainbridge was given command of USS Constitution shortly after the start of the War of 1812. Taking her out of Boston, Bainbridge had the good fortune to encounter, engage and capture HMS Java off the coast of Brazil. Those who are familiar with Patrick O'Brian will remember his skillful description of the engagement - which Jack Aubrey witnesses as a passenger aboard Java - in The Fortunes of War.
This brilliant victory turned Bainbridge into a celebrity, something he honestly loved. As noted in the post, Bainbridge wrote to a friend the "the applause of my countrymen has for me greater charms than all the gold that glitters."
All that said, the most striking things about Matthew Brenckle's discussion of the Commodore are - at least for me - the startlingly immediate portrait above and this contemporary description of Bainbridge:
[He] was six feet in height, and had a finely molded and muscular frame, which enabled him to endure any amount of fatigue. His complexion was rather fair, his beard dark and strong, his eyes black, animated, and expressive. His deportment was commanding, his dress always neat; his temperament was ardent and somewhat impetuous, though he could quality it with the greatest courtesy and the most attractive amenity.
Those two put together describe a true American hero who succumbed to pneumonia at the age of 61 calling for his sword in readiness to board the enemy.
Update: for more on portraiture in the U.S. during this era, see this post over at Log Lines regarding the Nation Portrait Gallery's current exhibit "1812: A Nation Emerges."
Header: Commodore William Bainbridge by Rembrandt Peale
For writers of historical fiction, artists and true lovers of particular historical figures, what our ancestors looked like is not only necessary to know, it can become an obsession. That's why this brief but wonderfully informative post over at Face 2 Face, the blog of the National Portrait Gallery at the Smithsonian, fascinates the heck out of me.
The tale of Commodore William Bainbridge, one of the first fighting captains in the U.S. Navy, is full of dizzying highs and claustrophobic lows. Bainbridge commanded the schooner Retaliation when she became the first ship lost to an enemy by the U.S. during the Quasi-War with France. He bore the ignominy of having to fly the Algerian flag at the masthead of the frigate George Washington while transporting the Dey of that country. Finally, back on Barbary shores once again, his ship Philadelphia grounded in Tripoli harbor and the Commodore and his men were taken prisoner and enslaved for a brief but no doubt brutal time.
After each incident, Bainbridge was exonerated by the navy board. It is a sure thing, however, that his own conscience was not so easily cleared. Finally, after a stint captaining merchant vessels, Bainbridge was given command of USS Constitution shortly after the start of the War of 1812. Taking her out of Boston, Bainbridge had the good fortune to encounter, engage and capture HMS Java off the coast of Brazil. Those who are familiar with Patrick O'Brian will remember his skillful description of the engagement - which Jack Aubrey witnesses as a passenger aboard Java - in The Fortunes of War.
This brilliant victory turned Bainbridge into a celebrity, something he honestly loved. As noted in the post, Bainbridge wrote to a friend the "the applause of my countrymen has for me greater charms than all the gold that glitters."
All that said, the most striking things about Matthew Brenckle's discussion of the Commodore are - at least for me - the startlingly immediate portrait above and this contemporary description of Bainbridge:
[He] was six feet in height, and had a finely molded and muscular frame, which enabled him to endure any amount of fatigue. His complexion was rather fair, his beard dark and strong, his eyes black, animated, and expressive. His deportment was commanding, his dress always neat; his temperament was ardent and somewhat impetuous, though he could quality it with the greatest courtesy and the most attractive amenity.
Those two put together describe a true American hero who succumbed to pneumonia at the age of 61 calling for his sword in readiness to board the enemy.
Update: for more on portraiture in the U.S. during this era, see this post over at Log Lines regarding the Nation Portrait Gallery's current exhibit "1812: A Nation Emerges."
Header: Commodore William Bainbridge by Rembrandt Peale
Thursday, August 30, 2012
Ships: Old Ironsides vs. Warrior
On August 30, 1812, Captain Isaac Hull brought his now famous frigate, USS Constitution, into the port of Boston with what was then astonishing news. Constitution had quite literally destroyed the British frigate of 38 guns HMS Guerriere in a firefight at sea.
The news was particularly well received in Boston, always a port town full of sailors, where the United States' battle cry of the two-month-old War of 1812 was well known: Free Trade and Sailors Rights. Guerriere had been a particular thorn in the side of U.S. merchantmen. Her captain, James Richard Dacres, was notorious for stopping such vessels, searching them and almost invariable finding men he labelled British deserters. Whether the charge was true or not, these men were immediately impressed for service aboard Guerriere.
The battle between the two ships, which began on August 19th some time after 2:00 PM, saw two fighting captains with well-prepared crews coming together in what seemed, on its face, to be a fairly even exchange. The Americans, whose navy was still in its youth at the time, nonetheless trusted their sturdy frigates built of nearly impregnable white oak. They also relied on their crews' unusual mixture of self-discipline and honest enthusiasm. Meanwhile, the Royal Navy ruled the waves, and did not blink at taking on a similar sized ship from any navy in the world, regardless of firepower.
The inequalities of the two ships, however, would lead to the unfortunate result that the Royal Navy had no doubt secretly dreaded from the beginning of the war. As the records of Captain Dacres' court martial indicate, Guerriere was old and desperately in need of a refit when she met Constitution on her way to the port of Halifax in the British colony of Nova Scotia. Her timbers, and in particular her masts, were literally rotten when all three in rapid succession were torn away by Constitution's guns. Then too, as Dacres would point out, she was a French prize and therefor not built to British standards.
On the other hand, Constitution carried 44 guns in answer to Guerriere's 38. Her crew was itching for a fight as many of them had friends and relatives who had been impressed by the Royal Navy; some had even suffered that ignominy themselves. Her captain was capable and level headed and made only one slip toward the end of the battle, missing stays and entangling Guerrier's bowsprit in Constitution's aft rigging. The most remarkable advantage Constitution had, however, was her tough hull. It was, according to legend, during this battle that she earned her nickname. When a shot from Guerrier bounced off Constitution's side, the Royal Navy gun crews began the rumor that she had "sides of iron."
Though Dacres never raised a white flag of surrender, Hull surmised when Guerrier was done and sent his First Lieutenant across in a boat to address the British captain. When asked if he would care to surrender, Dacres famously replied: "Our mizzen mast is gone, and our fore and main gone as well. I think, sir, that on the whole one might evince that we have struck our flag." And to this day the British are better at sarcasm than we Americans.
Dacres was welcomed aboard Constitution with all civility. Hull refused Dacres' sword as well. He would say later that he was particularly glad of it when the news came to him that Dacres had allowed 12 impressed American sailors to wait out the battle in Guerrier's hold, rather than have to fight against their countrymen. Though Hull had hoped to tow Guerrier to Boston as prize, the damage to her was to great. When it was clear that she would sink, Hull had all her stores and people removed to Constitution and then set her aflame.
Though a few later encounters - particularly the battle between USS Chesapeake and HMS Shannon - would not go so well for the Americans, this first decisive victory renewed the American hope for a swift and successful end to the war. It also began, even at this early stage, the British shift from a focus on war at sea - where the Royal Navy was flabbergasted at being regularly defeated - to a war on land. Unfortunately, despite the burning of Washington D.C. which remains the flagship victory of Britain and her colonies in the War of 1812, that didn't turn out so well either.
But the Battle of New Orleans is another discussion for another time. For today, Huzzah! Old Ironsides, her crew and Captain Isaac Hull.
Header: USS Constitution vs HMS Guerriere by Michel Felice Corne via Wikipedia
The news was particularly well received in Boston, always a port town full of sailors, where the United States' battle cry of the two-month-old War of 1812 was well known: Free Trade and Sailors Rights. Guerriere had been a particular thorn in the side of U.S. merchantmen. Her captain, James Richard Dacres, was notorious for stopping such vessels, searching them and almost invariable finding men he labelled British deserters. Whether the charge was true or not, these men were immediately impressed for service aboard Guerriere.
The battle between the two ships, which began on August 19th some time after 2:00 PM, saw two fighting captains with well-prepared crews coming together in what seemed, on its face, to be a fairly even exchange. The Americans, whose navy was still in its youth at the time, nonetheless trusted their sturdy frigates built of nearly impregnable white oak. They also relied on their crews' unusual mixture of self-discipline and honest enthusiasm. Meanwhile, the Royal Navy ruled the waves, and did not blink at taking on a similar sized ship from any navy in the world, regardless of firepower.
The inequalities of the two ships, however, would lead to the unfortunate result that the Royal Navy had no doubt secretly dreaded from the beginning of the war. As the records of Captain Dacres' court martial indicate, Guerriere was old and desperately in need of a refit when she met Constitution on her way to the port of Halifax in the British colony of Nova Scotia. Her timbers, and in particular her masts, were literally rotten when all three in rapid succession were torn away by Constitution's guns. Then too, as Dacres would point out, she was a French prize and therefor not built to British standards.
On the other hand, Constitution carried 44 guns in answer to Guerriere's 38. Her crew was itching for a fight as many of them had friends and relatives who had been impressed by the Royal Navy; some had even suffered that ignominy themselves. Her captain was capable and level headed and made only one slip toward the end of the battle, missing stays and entangling Guerrier's bowsprit in Constitution's aft rigging. The most remarkable advantage Constitution had, however, was her tough hull. It was, according to legend, during this battle that she earned her nickname. When a shot from Guerrier bounced off Constitution's side, the Royal Navy gun crews began the rumor that she had "sides of iron."
Though Dacres never raised a white flag of surrender, Hull surmised when Guerrier was done and sent his First Lieutenant across in a boat to address the British captain. When asked if he would care to surrender, Dacres famously replied: "Our mizzen mast is gone, and our fore and main gone as well. I think, sir, that on the whole one might evince that we have struck our flag." And to this day the British are better at sarcasm than we Americans.
Dacres was welcomed aboard Constitution with all civility. Hull refused Dacres' sword as well. He would say later that he was particularly glad of it when the news came to him that Dacres had allowed 12 impressed American sailors to wait out the battle in Guerrier's hold, rather than have to fight against their countrymen. Though Hull had hoped to tow Guerrier to Boston as prize, the damage to her was to great. When it was clear that she would sink, Hull had all her stores and people removed to Constitution and then set her aflame.
Though a few later encounters - particularly the battle between USS Chesapeake and HMS Shannon - would not go so well for the Americans, this first decisive victory renewed the American hope for a swift and successful end to the war. It also began, even at this early stage, the British shift from a focus on war at sea - where the Royal Navy was flabbergasted at being regularly defeated - to a war on land. Unfortunately, despite the burning of Washington D.C. which remains the flagship victory of Britain and her colonies in the War of 1812, that didn't turn out so well either.
But the Battle of New Orleans is another discussion for another time. For today, Huzzah! Old Ironsides, her crew and Captain Isaac Hull.
Header: USS Constitution vs HMS Guerriere by Michel Felice Corne via Wikipedia
Saturday, August 25, 2012
Sailor Mouth Saturday: Pick/Pike
I was inspired to pick today’s
words by U.S. Navy pikes. Trust me, that insane sentence will make sense by the
end of this post.
In sailor-speak, pick means the
usual things it does on land. Even at sea you can pick your nose and you can
pick your friends but I’m not going to finish that old canard. Canard, as an
aside, means duck in French; while ducks have beaks and friends, they have no
noses. It is only at sea, however, that a ship can pick up the wind. This is a
term for a sailing ship going from one trade or other reliable wind to another
while avoiding calms as much as possible. This was a favorite tactic of clipper
ships in their heyday as they ran from New York
to San Francisco then on to China and around to New York again.
Pickets
are pointed staffs thrust into the ground to demark military terrain, or even
just tie a horse to. Pickets may also be markers for pointing a mortar towards
its target, even if same is not visible from the weapon. Piquet is a group put
on watch at a distance from the main body of military to sound the first alarm
in case of approach by the enemy.
A
picard was a type of barge or boat once used for shipping materials and
livestock on the Severn river in England. The word’s origin may or
may not be related to the French word for a native of Picardy.
A picaroon was a small vessel used for piracy in the New World whose name
probably originated with the Old World term
for petty theft. Piccary was petty thievery on the High Seas and in England
pickerie was the theft of small items – a loaf of bread or an apple – that was
usually considered the act of women and/or children. The long-standing sentence
for pickerie was the far-worse-than-it-sounds punishment of ducking or
swimming. Usually carried out in either very cold and/or filthy bodies of
water, this form of torture could lead to death outright or infection that
essentially amounted to a death sentence.
Pickling
for sea voyages was done not only to food but also to wood. Pickling of timber
in order to make it more durable was often accomplished with Sir William
Burnett’s fluid, a solution of chloride and zinc. Because of this method,
pickling was sometimes called Burnettizing.
A
picul (or, more properly, pekul) was a commercial weight in China
equivalent to approximately 130 pounds. Pictarnie is a Scottish word for the
seagoing bird known as a tern.
A
pike-turn or a turn-pike is what was known to the French as a chevaux de frise. This was the habit of
topping military pikes with iron and standing them upright through beams, much
like a fence, to discourage the enemy. In fact, the French term – which
literally translates curly hair – is used to this day to denote a certain type
of wrought iron fencing.
Finally,
a pike is best described by Admiral Smyth:
A long, slender, round
staff, armed at the end with iron (as in a boarding-pike). Formerly in general
use but which gave way to the bayonet.
And
so here is the picture, from the U.S Navy’s Twitter feed, that got me thinking
about pikes while picking today’s words. I told you it would all make sense.
Eventually.
Header: Engraving of a
ducking or water ordeal from the late Medieval period via The Medievalist
Sunday, August 12, 2012
Seafaring Sunday: Daring Hull
August 12, 1812: America’s flagship, USS Constitution, captured and destroyed the
British brig Adeona.
This a mere week before her captain, Isaac Hull, would become famous in the U.S. for his
ship’s decisive action against HMS Guerrier. Find out more about Hull at the Naval History & Heritage Command.
Header: Contemporary
portrait of Captain Isaac Hull from NH&HC
Wednesday, August 1, 2012
Tools of the Trade: All in the Color
Sailors are generally ship-proud. Like housewives of old whose identity infused itself into their clean, tidy and good looking home, sailors want their ship to be the prettiest on the water. One of the things that goes into sailing the best looking ship is the trim of her paint. How well the paint is kept up, and what colors are chosen, has a lot to do with the personality of the ship and the pride of the sailor.
In the Great Age of Sail, certain colors were virtually synonymous with certain ships. Nelson was famous for the black and white checkers he favored around the gun ports of his vessels. This pattern, though tricky and time consuming to execute, caught on in the Royal Navy - particularly after Nelson's death but ultimate triumph at Trafalgar. Ships that sported this design were generally painted black or a very dark blue to allow the checkered design to stand out. From there, favorite combinations included everything from Nelson's black and white to such surprising combinations as scarlet and lilac, crimson and gold or salmon pink and brown.
Across the Atlantic, the U.S. Navy tended to a more neutral pallet. Black with cream was a very common combination but some of the larger frigates took on more distinctive colors. USS Constitution, for instance, was famously recognizable for her contrasting black and white - no checkers, thank you. As the picture above, from the ship's official website, shows, she carries those colors to this day.
A few other things, particularly those that might trick the eye as to a ship's flaws or help the crew in their day to day doings, were also taken into consideration. For instance, decks were almost universally painted a light color such as white or cream. This allowed the crew to see better at night. Darker colors were favored for the hulls of larger ships while lighter colors - particularly white - were the choice for smaller ships. This gave the larger ship a more lovely line, and the smaller ship the look of a larger one. High gloss, in the form of lacquer, was usually avoided as it was thought to accentuate unmentionables such as a wide bow or a heavy bottom.
One rarely finds anything more beautiful on this planet than a well maintained ship. If you haven't yet, now is a good time to think about a new coat of paint for your vessel, Brethren. Maybe some purple and scarlet checkers, just for a change?
Header: USS Constitution in her glory, as noted above from her official website
In the Great Age of Sail, certain colors were virtually synonymous with certain ships. Nelson was famous for the black and white checkers he favored around the gun ports of his vessels. This pattern, though tricky and time consuming to execute, caught on in the Royal Navy - particularly after Nelson's death but ultimate triumph at Trafalgar. Ships that sported this design were generally painted black or a very dark blue to allow the checkered design to stand out. From there, favorite combinations included everything from Nelson's black and white to such surprising combinations as scarlet and lilac, crimson and gold or salmon pink and brown.
Across the Atlantic, the U.S. Navy tended to a more neutral pallet. Black with cream was a very common combination but some of the larger frigates took on more distinctive colors. USS Constitution, for instance, was famously recognizable for her contrasting black and white - no checkers, thank you. As the picture above, from the ship's official website, shows, she carries those colors to this day.
A few other things, particularly those that might trick the eye as to a ship's flaws or help the crew in their day to day doings, were also taken into consideration. For instance, decks were almost universally painted a light color such as white or cream. This allowed the crew to see better at night. Darker colors were favored for the hulls of larger ships while lighter colors - particularly white - were the choice for smaller ships. This gave the larger ship a more lovely line, and the smaller ship the look of a larger one. High gloss, in the form of lacquer, was usually avoided as it was thought to accentuate unmentionables such as a wide bow or a heavy bottom.
One rarely finds anything more beautiful on this planet than a well maintained ship. If you haven't yet, now is a good time to think about a new coat of paint for your vessel, Brethren. Maybe some purple and scarlet checkers, just for a change?
Header: USS Constitution in her glory, as noted above from her official website
Wednesday, July 4, 2012
Ships: Privileged to Serve
Though I know that "Privileged to Serve" is generally a motto of the U.S. Army, this wonderful article from the Boston Globe on line makes it clear that the members of the U.S. Navy who work the oldest commissioned warship afloat feel very privileged indeed.
USS Constitution - the fabled Old Ironsides - carries a crew of 60 sailors and each and every one is honored to serve aboard her. The quotes in the article are fascinating as we learn about men and women who have seen duty in such far flung places as African, European and Asian ports of call literally "jump at the chance" for a spot aboard Constitution.
As an example, Anthony Costa, senior chief boatswain's mate and sailing master on the ship, has this to say in the article:
What better way is there to learn about our nation's naval history? This is where it all began. The Constitution is one of the ships that said to the world that America wasn't fooling around when it came to the Navy.
Constitution is a working sailing ship and, though it is a rare event to find her sailing past the outer harbor in Boston, she is on the water at least six times a year. That means that all the modern sailors assigned to her need to handle her rigging and sails just as their ancestors would have.
To this day, Constitution even has a master at arms which was one of the original positions in the U.S. Navy. It would probably come as a surprise to men like Stephen Decatur, James Barron and David Porter that the position is today filled by a woman, Marina Chavez. Other things have changed too; as Chavez notes, one of the master at arm's duties originally was to assist with flogging. "No longer part of my job description," she says.
If you'd like to know more about Constitution's participation in events celebrating the bicentennial of the War of 1812, or just find out the museum's hours, check out their official website.
Happy 4th of July to all the Brethren in the U.S. of A. We've a proud heritage and we should never forget what our ancestors went through to ensure our freedom. As John Adams so righteously put it:
Posterity! You will never know how much it cost the present generation to preserve your freedom! I hope you will make good use of it. If you do not, I shall repent in Heaven that I ever took half the pains to preserve it.
To bring that into modern terms, allow me to quote another righteous American, RuPaul: "Don't f**k it up."
Header: Marina Chavez, USS Constitution's Master-at-Arms via Boston.com
USS Constitution - the fabled Old Ironsides - carries a crew of 60 sailors and each and every one is honored to serve aboard her. The quotes in the article are fascinating as we learn about men and women who have seen duty in such far flung places as African, European and Asian ports of call literally "jump at the chance" for a spot aboard Constitution.
As an example, Anthony Costa, senior chief boatswain's mate and sailing master on the ship, has this to say in the article:
What better way is there to learn about our nation's naval history? This is where it all began. The Constitution is one of the ships that said to the world that America wasn't fooling around when it came to the Navy.
Constitution is a working sailing ship and, though it is a rare event to find her sailing past the outer harbor in Boston, she is on the water at least six times a year. That means that all the modern sailors assigned to her need to handle her rigging and sails just as their ancestors would have.
To this day, Constitution even has a master at arms which was one of the original positions in the U.S. Navy. It would probably come as a surprise to men like Stephen Decatur, James Barron and David Porter that the position is today filled by a woman, Marina Chavez. Other things have changed too; as Chavez notes, one of the master at arm's duties originally was to assist with flogging. "No longer part of my job description," she says.
If you'd like to know more about Constitution's participation in events celebrating the bicentennial of the War of 1812, or just find out the museum's hours, check out their official website.
Happy 4th of July to all the Brethren in the U.S. of A. We've a proud heritage and we should never forget what our ancestors went through to ensure our freedom. As John Adams so righteously put it:
Posterity! You will never know how much it cost the present generation to preserve your freedom! I hope you will make good use of it. If you do not, I shall repent in Heaven that I ever took half the pains to preserve it.
To bring that into modern terms, allow me to quote another righteous American, RuPaul: "Don't f**k it up."
Header: Marina Chavez, USS Constitution's Master-at-Arms via Boston.com
Sunday, June 24, 2012
Seafaring Sunday: Old Ironsides Again
June 24, 1833: USS Constitution
enters drydock at Charlestown Navy Yard, Boston,
MA, for overhaul. The ship was
saved from scrapping after public support rallied to save the ship following
publication of Oliver Wendell Holmes' poem, "Old Ironsides."
Header: USS Constitution in 2006 via Wikimedia
Header: USS Constitution in 2006 via Wikimedia
Thursday, June 21, 2012
Ships: A Ship-of-the-Line
The first ship-of-the-line commissioned by the U.S. Navy launched at the Boston Navy Yard on June 22, 1814. She was named for Jefferson's Declaration, and USS Independence was America's answer to the heavy ships of the contemporary Royal Navy.
Though she was built to take her place with the frigates of the U.S. in the War of 1812, she saw very little in the way of action there. While Jackson and his band of miscreants and Kaintucks were showing the British the door in New Orleans, USS Independence, under Commodore William Bainbridge and captained by William M. Crane, sailed alongside USS Constitution in the important but dull duty of protecting Boston Harbor. Once the war officially ended in February, 1815, Independence readied herself for her first authentic mission: confirming the end of the Barbary Wars.
As The Dictionary of Naval Fighting Ships online notes, Stephen Decatur had already negotiated a peace treaty with the piratical Barbary states when Independence arrived in the Mediterranean. She, however, "led an impressive show of force before the Barbary ports, encouraging them to keep the peace." In this, she began a long standing tradition of the U.S. Navy that continues to this day: a peaceful show of force is often more effective than aggression could ever be.
Her job done in Barbary, Independence returned to Boston. In 1819, Bainbridge lowered his pennant and it was replaced by that of Commodore John Shaw. Independence then cruised the Atlantic front until 1822 when she was placed in ordinary for repair.
By 1836, the U.S. Navy found itself in need of smaller, faster frigates rather than the lumbering style of ship-of-the-line that had been popular with European navies during the Napoleonic Wars. Independence was, therefore, razeed: cut down to one deck rather than three. Her gun load equaled 54 and, with her sail plan unaltered, she set out to serve as one of the fastest frigates in the American Navy.
As such she would sail to England, Copenhagen and finally to Kronstadt, Russia, where she delivered the new U.S. ambassador, George Dallas, and his family. She then headed for South America where Commodore John B. Nicholson was charged with attempting to effect a peace in the war between Argentina and France "for the good of neutral commerce." The mission failed, and Independence returned to the U.S. She dropped anchor in New York Harbor on March 30, 1845.
In 1846, now under Commodore William Shubrick, Independence set out for the Pacific where she would see action in the Mexican-American War. She used San Francisco as her home port and from there captured a number of Mexican ships and the town of Mazatlan in November, 1847.
After the war, Independence was again deployed to the Mediterranean, where she remained with Commodore Charles Morgan's squadron until 1852. Her final deployment saw her returning to the Pacific where she sailed between Chile, Hawai'i and California as a deterant to predation upon clipper ships headed for and from the gold fields.
Independence ended her service at Mare Island north of San Francisco Bay in 1912. Though plans were made to use her during the Panama-Pacific Exposition in 1915, these never came to fruition. She was stripped of her usable timber and iron. On September 20, 1915, the long lived Independence, the first of her kind in the U.S. Navy, was burned at Hunter's Point in California.
The sturdy veteran of the days of wooden ships and iron men survived more than a century, 98 years of which were spent serving the U.S. Navy.
Header: Sailmaker's plan of USS Independence via Wikipedia
Though she was built to take her place with the frigates of the U.S. in the War of 1812, she saw very little in the way of action there. While Jackson and his band of miscreants and Kaintucks were showing the British the door in New Orleans, USS Independence, under Commodore William Bainbridge and captained by William M. Crane, sailed alongside USS Constitution in the important but dull duty of protecting Boston Harbor. Once the war officially ended in February, 1815, Independence readied herself for her first authentic mission: confirming the end of the Barbary Wars.
As The Dictionary of Naval Fighting Ships online notes, Stephen Decatur had already negotiated a peace treaty with the piratical Barbary states when Independence arrived in the Mediterranean. She, however, "led an impressive show of force before the Barbary ports, encouraging them to keep the peace." In this, she began a long standing tradition of the U.S. Navy that continues to this day: a peaceful show of force is often more effective than aggression could ever be.
Her job done in Barbary, Independence returned to Boston. In 1819, Bainbridge lowered his pennant and it was replaced by that of Commodore John Shaw. Independence then cruised the Atlantic front until 1822 when she was placed in ordinary for repair.
By 1836, the U.S. Navy found itself in need of smaller, faster frigates rather than the lumbering style of ship-of-the-line that had been popular with European navies during the Napoleonic Wars. Independence was, therefore, razeed: cut down to one deck rather than three. Her gun load equaled 54 and, with her sail plan unaltered, she set out to serve as one of the fastest frigates in the American Navy.
As such she would sail to England, Copenhagen and finally to Kronstadt, Russia, where she delivered the new U.S. ambassador, George Dallas, and his family. She then headed for South America where Commodore John B. Nicholson was charged with attempting to effect a peace in the war between Argentina and France "for the good of neutral commerce." The mission failed, and Independence returned to the U.S. She dropped anchor in New York Harbor on March 30, 1845.
In 1846, now under Commodore William Shubrick, Independence set out for the Pacific where she would see action in the Mexican-American War. She used San Francisco as her home port and from there captured a number of Mexican ships and the town of Mazatlan in November, 1847.
After the war, Independence was again deployed to the Mediterranean, where she remained with Commodore Charles Morgan's squadron until 1852. Her final deployment saw her returning to the Pacific where she sailed between Chile, Hawai'i and California as a deterant to predation upon clipper ships headed for and from the gold fields.
Independence ended her service at Mare Island north of San Francisco Bay in 1912. Though plans were made to use her during the Panama-Pacific Exposition in 1915, these never came to fruition. She was stripped of her usable timber and iron. On September 20, 1915, the long lived Independence, the first of her kind in the U.S. Navy, was burned at Hunter's Point in California.
The sturdy veteran of the days of wooden ships and iron men survived more than a century, 98 years of which were spent serving the U.S. Navy.
Header: Sailmaker's plan of USS Independence via Wikipedia
Saturday, May 26, 2012
Sailor Mouth Saturday: Point
The word point at sea often refers to guns, both great and small; or at least it did when ships were made of wood and men made of iron (as was the case in the era of the gorgeous painting of USS Constitution with her studding sails set above). But there were other points to be made upon wave, and we won’t skimp on any of them today.
A point of land is similar in nature to a head. It is an outcropping that reaches into the sea, projecting out and making a handing place for lighthouses and customs ports.
Point brass or point iron is a shipbuilding term referring to a particular type of plumb bob. A pointer is the arrow or indicator of an instrument, as in the pointer of a compass. Pointers, on the other hand, are props that shored up the hulls of whaling ships to help them through icy and iceberg-laden waters. This was also the term for braces used to support the bilge of any wooden ship; they were placed on the diagonal across the hold to prevent the ship’s timbers from “loose-working”: coming apart due to the heave and swell of the water on which she rode.
Pointing refers to rope and is the process by which the ends of it are tapered by hand to make them easy to fit through holes, such as the eyes of a sail. These pointings were sometimes tarred, making them similar to the end of a modern shoelace. The eye holes were thus referred to as points.
The details of a seaman’s – and particularly an officer’s – duty were known as points of service. As Admiral Smyth admonishes in The Sailor’s Word Book, these “ought to be executed with zeal and alacrity.”
As to the guns, a pointer-board was a piece of wood used to point a ship’s guns. To point a gun was, of course, to train it on a target.
Point blank and point blank range come to the English idiom not through seafaring but archery. Prior to the introduction of gunpowder into Europe, archers were highly prized in warfare both on land and sea. Practice of archery was an all-important pastime for such men (and women, as it turns out). The pre-Medieval term for what we might imagine as a bull’s eye on the practice-butt was a “blank”. Thus we come to point blank; not close or straight on but a direct hit of the arrow onto the blank.
Point blank range for the great guns aboard ship during the Age of Sail was considered between 300 and 400 yards, with some variation for the size of the bore. This was how far the ball – there is no accurate measurement for shot, chain, etc. – could fly before succumbing to gravity and beginning to arc toward the ground or water. Once guns were rifled, the use of the term fell out of favor other then to mean quite literally pressing the gun to an object and firing.
Finally, in the language of the old Royal Navy man, a point-beacher was – to use the delicate turn of phrase mastered by Admiral S – “a low woman of Portsmouth.” The engravings of Rowlandson easily come to mind.
Happy Saturday, Brethren; more tomorrow for Seafaring Sunday.
Header: Catching a Zephyr: USS Constitution off Gibraltar, 1804 by masterful marine artist Patrick O’Brien (these O’Brian/O’Brien guys really know their nautical stuff!)
A point of land is similar in nature to a head. It is an outcropping that reaches into the sea, projecting out and making a handing place for lighthouses and customs ports.
Point brass or point iron is a shipbuilding term referring to a particular type of plumb bob. A pointer is the arrow or indicator of an instrument, as in the pointer of a compass. Pointers, on the other hand, are props that shored up the hulls of whaling ships to help them through icy and iceberg-laden waters. This was also the term for braces used to support the bilge of any wooden ship; they were placed on the diagonal across the hold to prevent the ship’s timbers from “loose-working”: coming apart due to the heave and swell of the water on which she rode.
Pointing refers to rope and is the process by which the ends of it are tapered by hand to make them easy to fit through holes, such as the eyes of a sail. These pointings were sometimes tarred, making them similar to the end of a modern shoelace. The eye holes were thus referred to as points.
The details of a seaman’s – and particularly an officer’s – duty were known as points of service. As Admiral Smyth admonishes in The Sailor’s Word Book, these “ought to be executed with zeal and alacrity.”
As to the guns, a pointer-board was a piece of wood used to point a ship’s guns. To point a gun was, of course, to train it on a target.
Point blank and point blank range come to the English idiom not through seafaring but archery. Prior to the introduction of gunpowder into Europe, archers were highly prized in warfare both on land and sea. Practice of archery was an all-important pastime for such men (and women, as it turns out). The pre-Medieval term for what we might imagine as a bull’s eye on the practice-butt was a “blank”. Thus we come to point blank; not close or straight on but a direct hit of the arrow onto the blank.
Point blank range for the great guns aboard ship during the Age of Sail was considered between 300 and 400 yards, with some variation for the size of the bore. This was how far the ball – there is no accurate measurement for shot, chain, etc. – could fly before succumbing to gravity and beginning to arc toward the ground or water. Once guns were rifled, the use of the term fell out of favor other then to mean quite literally pressing the gun to an object and firing.
Finally, in the language of the old Royal Navy man, a point-beacher was – to use the delicate turn of phrase mastered by Admiral S – “a low woman of Portsmouth.” The engravings of Rowlandson easily come to mind.
Happy Saturday, Brethren; more tomorrow for Seafaring Sunday.
Header: Catching a Zephyr: USS Constitution off Gibraltar, 1804 by masterful marine artist Patrick O’Brien (these O’Brian/O’Brien guys really know their nautical stuff!)
Tuesday, April 10, 2012
Books: A Manual for Victory
HMS Victory, arguably the most famous man-of-war built during the Georgian era, didn’t come with an operating manual. The iron men who sailed her didn’t need one. They knew what they were up to, certainly almost to a man, and gave her life through the work of their muscles and bones. She was and is a remarkable vessel, and to some degree a shrine. It was upon her deck and in her orlop that the immortal Horatio Nelson saw victory – and death – and Trafalgar.
All that said, a guide to owning and maintaining HMS Victory couldn’t hurt, even at this late date. That is exactly what author Peter Goodwin and Haynes Publishing Group came out with on February 4th: the first ever fully illustrated and impeccably accurate guide to one of the oldest and most iconic sailing ships in the world.
As noted in the press release from Haynes:
With the aid of specially commissioned photographs and an authoritative narrative, the reader is taken below decks to discover the innermost workings of the warship. There are chapters on how to sail an 18th century man-of-war, gunnery and tactics, and the [$2.5 million] conservation program that will ensure she continues to be a top visitor attraction well into the 21st century.
The book, as noted, was written by Peter Goodwin who is a former Royal Navy marine engineer and an expert on sailing and ships of Nelson’s navy. Fans of the movie Master and Commander: The Far Side of the World will be familiar with Goodwin’s expertise; he was an advisor on technical points during production and post-production of the film.
The book is available online at an extremely reasonable $23.73 U.S. It really is a must-have for anyone interested in any of the subjects which, throughout history, have touched the beautiful HMS Victory.
Finally as an aside, and with no offence intended to the British Brethren, the press release notes Victory is “the world’s oldest commissioned warship.” In fact, she is the world’s oldest commissioned warship not actively sailing. The oldest commissioned warship still on the high seas is USS Constitution. I’m splitting hairs, perhaps, but it is a small matter of pride for those of us who have some connection to the U.S. Navy which, in all fairness, is the daughter of the Royal Navy.
Header: HMS Victory In Battle by Chris N. Wood via Artists Harbour
All that said, a guide to owning and maintaining HMS Victory couldn’t hurt, even at this late date. That is exactly what author Peter Goodwin and Haynes Publishing Group came out with on February 4th: the first ever fully illustrated and impeccably accurate guide to one of the oldest and most iconic sailing ships in the world.
As noted in the press release from Haynes:
With the aid of specially commissioned photographs and an authoritative narrative, the reader is taken below decks to discover the innermost workings of the warship. There are chapters on how to sail an 18th century man-of-war, gunnery and tactics, and the [$2.5 million] conservation program that will ensure she continues to be a top visitor attraction well into the 21st century.
The book, as noted, was written by Peter Goodwin who is a former Royal Navy marine engineer and an expert on sailing and ships of Nelson’s navy. Fans of the movie Master and Commander: The Far Side of the World will be familiar with Goodwin’s expertise; he was an advisor on technical points during production and post-production of the film.
The book is available online at an extremely reasonable $23.73 U.S. It really is a must-have for anyone interested in any of the subjects which, throughout history, have touched the beautiful HMS Victory.
Finally as an aside, and with no offence intended to the British Brethren, the press release notes Victory is “the world’s oldest commissioned warship.” In fact, she is the world’s oldest commissioned warship not actively sailing. The oldest commissioned warship still on the high seas is USS Constitution. I’m splitting hairs, perhaps, but it is a small matter of pride for those of us who have some connection to the U.S. Navy which, in all fairness, is the daughter of the Royal Navy.
Header: HMS Victory In Battle by Chris N. Wood via Artists Harbour
Monday, November 14, 2011
Ships: Six Frigates
The United States Navy was reestablished by order of Congress in 1794. Since the Continental Navy had been largely a privateer operation, and the ships that she did have had been sold after the Revolutionary War, the fledgling navy had no ships of her own. Secretary of War Henry Knox proposed that six heavy frigates be built. They should be both strong of hull and fast sailors, something not often seen at the time. And they needed to be ready as quickly as possible given naval threats not only from England and France but from Barbary corsairs as well.
Joshua Humphreys was given the task of designing the ships. Although he is generally credited with their building as well, in fact five other ship builders had a hand in overseeing their execution along with Humphreys. As Ian W. Toll notes in his excellent book on the birth of the U.S. Navy Six Frigates, Knox had the foresight to suggest to President Washington that the building of each ship be completed at different dockyards on the Atlantic Coast. This would not only insure quicker build times but also pump money into local economies which were lagging after the war. Washington agreed immediately and construction was approved in April of 1794.
USS Chesapeake was built at Gosport, Virginia by Josiah Fox. Launched in August of 1799, she would achieve notoriety in the Chesapeake/Leopard Affair. HMS Leopard fired upon Chesapeake in 1807, ostensibly because Commodore James Baron refused to comply with a search request. Baron, his guns unready for a fight, struck almost immediately and would be vilified for his action – or inaction – for the rest of his life. Chesapeake, of 36 guns, would go on to be captured by HMS Shannon during the War of 1812. When she was broken up in 1820, some of her timbers were used to build Chesapeake Mill in Wickham, England.
USS Congress was built at Portsmouth, New Hampshire by James Hackett. Also a 36, Congress was launched at the same time as Chesapeake. She served on the Mediterranean Squadron and in the West and East Indies. She became a receiving ship in 1824 and was broken up ten years later.
USS Constellation was built at Baltimore, Maryland by David Stodder. She carried 36 guns and was launched in September of 1797. She famously captured the French man-of-war L’Insurgent during the Quasi-War, making her the first American built ship to win such a victory. She would go on to duty in the West Indies and on the African Station hunting slavers until she was broken up in 1853. Some of her timbers were used to build a second Constellation; she is now in dry dock and functions as a museum.
USS Constitution was built at Boston, Massachusetts by George Claghorn. Old Ironsides, as she became known, was a true 44 launched in October of 1797. Her greatest victories were achieved during the War of 1812 when she captured the British ships Guerriere, Java, Cyane and Levant. She was marked for breaking in 1830 but, saved by popular outcry, she is now the oldest commissioned vessel afloat.
USS President was built at New York, New York by Forman Cheeseman and launched in April of 1800. Of 44 guns, she served on the Mediterranean Squadron and in the War of 1812 when she was captured by HMS Tenedos after suffering severe damage from running aground. Her captain, Stephen Decatur, struck to the British but it was soon revealed that the Battle of New Orleans had been won by General Jackson the same day. The war was over. Though the British paroled Decatur and his men, they kept President as prize. She was broken up in 1817.
USS United States was built at Philadelphia, Pennsylvania by Joshua Humphreys. Launched in May of 1797 she also carried 44 guns. She captured HMS Macedonian in the War of 1812 and was commissioned into the Confederate States Navy during the Civil War. She was scuttled in 1862 but raised again after the war. Her repair was never properly finished and she was broken up in 1865.
Header: Battle Between USS United States and HMS Macedonian by Thomas Birch
Joshua Humphreys was given the task of designing the ships. Although he is generally credited with their building as well, in fact five other ship builders had a hand in overseeing their execution along with Humphreys. As Ian W. Toll notes in his excellent book on the birth of the U.S. Navy Six Frigates, Knox had the foresight to suggest to President Washington that the building of each ship be completed at different dockyards on the Atlantic Coast. This would not only insure quicker build times but also pump money into local economies which were lagging after the war. Washington agreed immediately and construction was approved in April of 1794.
USS Chesapeake was built at Gosport, Virginia by Josiah Fox. Launched in August of 1799, she would achieve notoriety in the Chesapeake/Leopard Affair. HMS Leopard fired upon Chesapeake in 1807, ostensibly because Commodore James Baron refused to comply with a search request. Baron, his guns unready for a fight, struck almost immediately and would be vilified for his action – or inaction – for the rest of his life. Chesapeake, of 36 guns, would go on to be captured by HMS Shannon during the War of 1812. When she was broken up in 1820, some of her timbers were used to build Chesapeake Mill in Wickham, England.
USS Congress was built at Portsmouth, New Hampshire by James Hackett. Also a 36, Congress was launched at the same time as Chesapeake. She served on the Mediterranean Squadron and in the West and East Indies. She became a receiving ship in 1824 and was broken up ten years later.
USS Constellation was built at Baltimore, Maryland by David Stodder. She carried 36 guns and was launched in September of 1797. She famously captured the French man-of-war L’Insurgent during the Quasi-War, making her the first American built ship to win such a victory. She would go on to duty in the West Indies and on the African Station hunting slavers until she was broken up in 1853. Some of her timbers were used to build a second Constellation; she is now in dry dock and functions as a museum.
USS Constitution was built at Boston, Massachusetts by George Claghorn. Old Ironsides, as she became known, was a true 44 launched in October of 1797. Her greatest victories were achieved during the War of 1812 when she captured the British ships Guerriere, Java, Cyane and Levant. She was marked for breaking in 1830 but, saved by popular outcry, she is now the oldest commissioned vessel afloat.
USS President was built at New York, New York by Forman Cheeseman and launched in April of 1800. Of 44 guns, she served on the Mediterranean Squadron and in the War of 1812 when she was captured by HMS Tenedos after suffering severe damage from running aground. Her captain, Stephen Decatur, struck to the British but it was soon revealed that the Battle of New Orleans had been won by General Jackson the same day. The war was over. Though the British paroled Decatur and his men, they kept President as prize. She was broken up in 1817.
USS United States was built at Philadelphia, Pennsylvania by Joshua Humphreys. Launched in May of 1797 she also carried 44 guns. She captured HMS Macedonian in the War of 1812 and was commissioned into the Confederate States Navy during the Civil War. She was scuttled in 1862 but raised again after the war. Her repair was never properly finished and she was broken up in 1865.
Header: Battle Between USS United States and HMS Macedonian by Thomas Birch
Sunday, November 13, 2011
Seafaring Sunday: Old Ironsides
November 13, 1830: Joining the effort to save USS Constitution, one of the U.S. Navy's first six frigates, from the wreakers, Oliver Wendell Holmes publishes his poem "Old Ironsides"
Aye, tear her tattered ensign down!
Long has it waved on high,
And many an eye has danced to see
That banner in the sky:
Beneath it rung the battle shout,
And burst the cannon's roar -
The meteor of the ocean air
Shall sweep the clouds no more!
Her deck, once red with heroes' blood,
Where knelt the vanquished foe,
When winds were hurrying o'er the flood,
And waves were white below,
No more shall feel the victor's tread
Or know the conquered knee -
Tha harpies of the shore shall pluck
The eagle of the sea!
Oh, better that her shattered hulk
Should sink beneath the wave;
Her thunders shook the mighty deep,
And ther should be her grave;
Nail to the mast her holy flag,
Set every threadbare sail,
And give her to the god of storms,
The lightning and the gale!
Header:USS Constitution in her glory from her official website
Aye, tear her tattered ensign down!
Long has it waved on high,
And many an eye has danced to see
That banner in the sky:
Beneath it rung the battle shout,
And burst the cannon's roar -
The meteor of the ocean air
Shall sweep the clouds no more!
Her deck, once red with heroes' blood,
Where knelt the vanquished foe,
When winds were hurrying o'er the flood,
And waves were white below,
No more shall feel the victor's tread
Or know the conquered knee -
Tha harpies of the shore shall pluck
The eagle of the sea!
Oh, better that her shattered hulk
Should sink beneath the wave;
Her thunders shook the mighty deep,
And ther should be her grave;
Nail to the mast her holy flag,
Set every threadbare sail,
And give her to the god of storms,
The lightning and the gale!
Header:USS Constitution in her glory from her official website
Tuesday, July 26, 2011
Ships: The Weight of Wood
I'm fascinated by how much ships weigh. It seems counter-intuitive to imagine a two million ton hunk of metal – like the Queen Mary 2 – floating blissfully on wave. At least to me. When I saw a chart of historical ships’ tonnage in Peter H. Spectre’s A Mariner’s Miscellany I thought I’d share just some of the weights in wood that have kept afloat, and moved men and history, over the centuries. I’ve added a few of my own favorites as well.
Khufu’s famous monoreme, which now hangs in the Cairo Museum, displaced 94 tons.
Medieval Cinque Ports ships that ran between Dover, Hastings, Hythe, Romney and Sandwich weighed, on average, 80 tons.
Columbus’ Santa Maria was only about 100 tons.
By comparison, Henry VIII’s Henri Grace a Dieu known as Great Harry, weighed in at a whopping 1,200 tons where as Mary Rose was 600 tons and Drake’s Golden Hinde was a mere 120.
Throughout the 17th century, ships grew in size. Mayflower (1620) was 180 tons. Vasa (1628) carried 1,300 tons, making her one of the largest ships of her era. In 1637, Sovereign of the Seas weighed in at 1,522 tons and by 1765 HMS Victory was over 2.000 tons.
Of course, smaller ships continued to have their uses. The pirates of the 18th century favored shallow draft brigs and sloops, usually no more than 120 tons. The privateers of the following century preferred the same types of ships, but usually even lighter and faster at between 90 and 100 tons. Renato Beluche’s Spy, for instance, was just 95 tons.
Over in the U.S., heavy warships began appearing at the end of the 18th century. USS Constitution, built in 1797, was 2,200. By 1890, ironclads were the norm; USS Maine weighed in at an almost unfathomable 6,650 tons.
These days massive tankers of 500,000 tons or more are pretty much the norm. And then of course there are those cruise ships and mentioned above. It’s hard to wrap your head around, and sometimes disconcerting to be aboard. I’ll take a good little sloop like Spy over a QM2 any day, thankee.
Header: Ship at Sea by Luis Graner y Arrufi
Khufu’s famous monoreme, which now hangs in the Cairo Museum, displaced 94 tons.
Medieval Cinque Ports ships that ran between Dover, Hastings, Hythe, Romney and Sandwich weighed, on average, 80 tons.
Columbus’ Santa Maria was only about 100 tons.
By comparison, Henry VIII’s Henri Grace a Dieu known as Great Harry, weighed in at a whopping 1,200 tons where as Mary Rose was 600 tons and Drake’s Golden Hinde was a mere 120.
Throughout the 17th century, ships grew in size. Mayflower (1620) was 180 tons. Vasa (1628) carried 1,300 tons, making her one of the largest ships of her era. In 1637, Sovereign of the Seas weighed in at 1,522 tons and by 1765 HMS Victory was over 2.000 tons.
Of course, smaller ships continued to have their uses. The pirates of the 18th century favored shallow draft brigs and sloops, usually no more than 120 tons. The privateers of the following century preferred the same types of ships, but usually even lighter and faster at between 90 and 100 tons. Renato Beluche’s Spy, for instance, was just 95 tons.
Over in the U.S., heavy warships began appearing at the end of the 18th century. USS Constitution, built in 1797, was 2,200. By 1890, ironclads were the norm; USS Maine weighed in at an almost unfathomable 6,650 tons.
These days massive tankers of 500,000 tons or more are pretty much the norm. And then of course there are those cruise ships and mentioned above. It’s hard to wrap your head around, and sometimes disconcerting to be aboard. I’ll take a good little sloop like Spy over a QM2 any day, thankee.
Header: Ship at Sea by Luis Graner y Arrufi
Saturday, July 16, 2011
Sailor Mouth Saturday: Under
Many people with even a passing interest in sailing have heard phrases like under sail or under way (not “weigh”, by the way, but we’ll talk about that in a minute). The uses for the word under aboard ship are myriad and, in some cases, a little bit amusing if not down right curious.
Under can refer to the state of a ship’s canvas and/or rigging. She is said to be under bare poles when she has no canvas aloft as when she is in port or in a very heavy storm. Under canvas is the same as under sail; this is the opposite of under bare poles with sails set and at the ready. Under way means the ship is beginning to move under sail. As noted in The Sailor’s Word Book, this is sometimes erroneously spelled “under weigh” which actually means that the ship is in the process of weighing anchor. In such a case she may have no canvas spread at all. As the authors point out: “This is a moot point with old seaman.” That said, it is not a moot point for those writing about ships, shipping or in the line of nautical historical fiction.
A ship may be under manned, as in not enough hands to run her, or under masted, in which case her masts are too small and/or short making her slow and sluggish for want of sail. She may be found under the lee, sheltered from the wind by land, a spit, a mole or even a larger vessel. This is sometimes also referred to as under the wind. A ship that is under the sea is caught in a bad gale, and not succeeding much against the wind.
Under deck is the floor of a cabin or deck. Under foot is said of an anchor that is directly beneath the ship; not always an advantages position for such a device. A cannon is said to be under metal when its muzzle is pointed downward with the breach above it. This is the common way to store guns aboard us to keep moisture out of the chamber.
An under current is similar to an under tow, with the surface of a body of water flowing in one direction and the under portion of the water ebbing in another. This is not only dangerous for swimmers but for boats as well which can be make no headway despite oars and sails working to the best of their ability. Similarly an under set occurs near the shoreline of large harbors and stretches of coast wherein the wind hurries waves – and anything caught in them – along to crash against the land.
I’ll end with the word underwriter, a profession that was quite familiar to those dealing in ships by the dawn of the 19th century. From The Sailor’s Word Book:
The parties who take upon themselves the risk of insurance, and so called from subscribing their names at the foot of the policy. They are legally presumed to be acquainted with every custom of the trade whereon they enter a policy.
Header: USS Constitution under bare poles via Bone in its Teeth
Under can refer to the state of a ship’s canvas and/or rigging. She is said to be under bare poles when she has no canvas aloft as when she is in port or in a very heavy storm. Under canvas is the same as under sail; this is the opposite of under bare poles with sails set and at the ready. Under way means the ship is beginning to move under sail. As noted in The Sailor’s Word Book, this is sometimes erroneously spelled “under weigh” which actually means that the ship is in the process of weighing anchor. In such a case she may have no canvas spread at all. As the authors point out: “This is a moot point with old seaman.” That said, it is not a moot point for those writing about ships, shipping or in the line of nautical historical fiction.
A ship may be under manned, as in not enough hands to run her, or under masted, in which case her masts are too small and/or short making her slow and sluggish for want of sail. She may be found under the lee, sheltered from the wind by land, a spit, a mole or even a larger vessel. This is sometimes also referred to as under the wind. A ship that is under the sea is caught in a bad gale, and not succeeding much against the wind.
Under deck is the floor of a cabin or deck. Under foot is said of an anchor that is directly beneath the ship; not always an advantages position for such a device. A cannon is said to be under metal when its muzzle is pointed downward with the breach above it. This is the common way to store guns aboard us to keep moisture out of the chamber.
An under current is similar to an under tow, with the surface of a body of water flowing in one direction and the under portion of the water ebbing in another. This is not only dangerous for swimmers but for boats as well which can be make no headway despite oars and sails working to the best of their ability. Similarly an under set occurs near the shoreline of large harbors and stretches of coast wherein the wind hurries waves – and anything caught in them – along to crash against the land.
I’ll end with the word underwriter, a profession that was quite familiar to those dealing in ships by the dawn of the 19th century. From The Sailor’s Word Book:
The parties who take upon themselves the risk of insurance, and so called from subscribing their names at the foot of the policy. They are legally presumed to be acquainted with every custom of the trade whereon they enter a policy.
Header: USS Constitution under bare poles via Bone in its Teeth
Sunday, June 26, 2011
Seafaring Sunday: Old Ironsides
June 24, 1833: USS Constitution is spared from wrecking thanks in large part to popular support stirred up by Oliver Wendall Homes poem "Old Ironsides". For more on Constitution, and to read the classic poem, see this post at Naval History Blog.
Header: USS Constitution today via Naval History Blog
Header: USS Constitution today via Naval History Blog
Sunday, March 27, 2011
Seafaring Sunday: A Decisive Naval Force
Sunday, August 22, 2010
Seafaring Sunday: A New World Order
August 19, 1812: USS Constitution utterly defeats HMS Guerriere in the Atlantic off the coast of Massachusetts. The sea battle and its outcome stun the Royal Navy and the British people. The U.S. Navy is no longer a joke, but a legitimate international force to be reckoned with. Read more about the battle here at the U.S. Naval History Blog. Huzzah for Old Ironsides!
Monday, May 31, 2010
Ships: Old Ironsides
One of the original six frigates built by the new government of the independent country of the United States of America, USS Constitution is now the oldest working sailing frigate on the water. She's been everything from a warrior to a training ship, a cargo hauler to a hospital and, because of the many men who have served aboard her, she is my choice for a Memorial Day tribute here at Triple P.Built in Boston, Massachusetts at Edmund Hartt's yard, Constitution was designed by Joshua Humphreys, William Doughty and Josiah Fox for launch in October of 1797. Originally bound for the Barbary coast to fight pirates, she ended up serving in the Quasi-War with France instead. Between 1798 and 1800 she took a number of French warships and privateers. By 1801 she was back in the U.S., at the Charleston Naval Yard for a refit.
In 1803 she returned to action and this time she made it to Barbary. She was one of Commodore Edward Preble's Mediterranean Squadron and she helped to liberate the sailors of USS Philadelphia from Tripoli. Preble's actions, along with those of William Eaton and the U.S. Marines, forced the Barbary states to relinquish the requirement of "tribute" payments from American ships.
Constitution was given to John Rodgers in 1809. Isaac Hull followed as her Captain in 1810. When the War of 1812 broke out she took up a post off New Jersey. She encountered a number of British ships on the Atlantic station and became famous when she took HMS Guerriere in a two hour firefight. Constitution's superior fire power - 30 24 pound cannon and 20 42 pound carronades - won the day. The British ship's inability to put a dent in Constitution earned her the nickname Old Ironsides. She returned to Boston with her prisoners. Guerriere, a total loss with 78 men dead, was blown up at sea.
William Bainbridge was given command of Constitution in late 1812. The ship set out to rendezvous with Captain David Porter's Essex off Brazil but encountered HMS Java and commenced firing. Java was reduced to a dismasted hulk and lost 128 men, including her captain, Henry Lambert. Java, like Guerriere, was blown up at sea. This time, though, Constitution suffered considerable damage as well and Bainbridge limped her home to Boston. This engagement was used by Patrick O'Brian in his Aubrey/Maturin novel The Fortunes of War.
Bainbridge, wounded in the Java fight, turned over command of Constitution to Charles Stewart. Stewart took two more British ships, Levant and Cyane, in February of 1815. He did not know that the war was over at that point. Constitution returned to port in May. The ship was laid up in ordinary until 1821. When the Navy planned to break her for scrap in 1828, the U.S. people rallied to her aid. Constitution was rebuilt. She circumnavigated the globe in 1846 - with Andrew Jackson as her figurehead - and saw action as a Union frigate in the Civil War. By 1897, she was at dock as a naval receiving ship in New Hampshire.
Moved to Boston before the turn of the century, she was again restored and sailed on a "goodwill tour" in the 1930s. She is now a museum ship, sailing with other tall ships on July 4th each year. She is the oldest commissioned warship in the world and you can visit her next time you're in Boston. Right this moment, you can visit her enthralling website.
Constitution is a three masted heavy frigate of 2,200 tons. She carried up to sixty guns and as many as 450 men. She is an icon of American seafaring. On this day of remembering all who serve, I salute you Old Ironsides.
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