Arthur Jenner
24th January 2009, 09:11
Transformation
by AJ
A tramp ship in port would be one of the messiest, dirtiest, most disorganized looking objects imaginable. Even from the quayside, there can be seen ropes and wires, timber, ashes, galley waste and all kinds of clutter but climb the rickety gangway and look around. The mess is even worse: the hatch beams are lying around on the deck where the dockers have left them: Hatch boards are piled in irregular heaps around the deck: tarpaulins, which have been roughly folded are lying where they were dumped; in out of the way places, covered in assorted rubbish. Mooring ropes and wires are either lying in roughly coiled heaps or, especially the wires, lying looped and tangled all over the deck, waiting to trip the unwary. Sections of removable railing; removed for their own safety during loading, loll at odd angles against fixed rails, held in place by pieces of rope yarn. Anything that can possibly be out of place, untidy, covered in dirt, or rusty, is just that.
But see the same ship transformed in a short space of time after it escapes the clutches of the wharves, the docks and the longshoremen. The despicable hulk in the dock becomes a thing of grace and beauty, moving freely with the motion of the sea; alive and in its element.
It doesn't all happen quite so magically as that though. As the loading, or unloading, of each hatch is completed, the beams are lowered into their slots (As well as supporting the hatch boards, they are an important part of the ship's structure); and are covered in hatch boards. The hatches are then clothed in two or three layers of tarpaulins; the best and newest being always put on first. The tarpaulins are stretched tight with neatly folded corners like hospital beds and are held firmly by steel battens, which in turn are kept in place by dozens of wooden wedges, inserted and firmly hammered home by the carpenter.
As soon as the mooring ropes have been cast off and winched inboard they are stowed below decks; neatly coiled. The mooring wires are reeled onto their drums and enclosed in their canvas covers. The ship begins her voyage. Slowly out of the docks, into the river and once out into the open sea the job of clearing up and washing down begins. The stinking mountains of galley rubbish and ashes are shovelled over the side; derricks are stripped of their guys and runners, which are stowed in the mast houses. Watches are set, the sea routine begins and the crew starts to become a part of the living ship.
by AJ
A tramp ship in port would be one of the messiest, dirtiest, most disorganized looking objects imaginable. Even from the quayside, there can be seen ropes and wires, timber, ashes, galley waste and all kinds of clutter but climb the rickety gangway and look around. The mess is even worse: the hatch beams are lying around on the deck where the dockers have left them: Hatch boards are piled in irregular heaps around the deck: tarpaulins, which have been roughly folded are lying where they were dumped; in out of the way places, covered in assorted rubbish. Mooring ropes and wires are either lying in roughly coiled heaps or, especially the wires, lying looped and tangled all over the deck, waiting to trip the unwary. Sections of removable railing; removed for their own safety during loading, loll at odd angles against fixed rails, held in place by pieces of rope yarn. Anything that can possibly be out of place, untidy, covered in dirt, or rusty, is just that.
But see the same ship transformed in a short space of time after it escapes the clutches of the wharves, the docks and the longshoremen. The despicable hulk in the dock becomes a thing of grace and beauty, moving freely with the motion of the sea; alive and in its element.
It doesn't all happen quite so magically as that though. As the loading, or unloading, of each hatch is completed, the beams are lowered into their slots (As well as supporting the hatch boards, they are an important part of the ship's structure); and are covered in hatch boards. The hatches are then clothed in two or three layers of tarpaulins; the best and newest being always put on first. The tarpaulins are stretched tight with neatly folded corners like hospital beds and are held firmly by steel battens, which in turn are kept in place by dozens of wooden wedges, inserted and firmly hammered home by the carpenter.
As soon as the mooring ropes have been cast off and winched inboard they are stowed below decks; neatly coiled. The mooring wires are reeled onto their drums and enclosed in their canvas covers. The ship begins her voyage. Slowly out of the docks, into the river and once out into the open sea the job of clearing up and washing down begins. The stinking mountains of galley rubbish and ashes are shovelled over the side; derricks are stripped of their guys and runners, which are stowed in the mast houses. Watches are set, the sea routine begins and the crew starts to become a part of the living ship.