The Montgomery advertiser., 1902-06-08
BECOMING A LOST ART.
sailmaking of Today Almost For gotten Calling.

Richard Hathaway. perhaps the oldest saiimaker along the water front, in talk ing over the gradual disappearance from the sea of the oid-time sailing vessels. as their place is taken by steamboats, give an alarming prophecy in regard to his one-time famous trade. In his opinion twenty-five years hence the art of sail making will be unknown. since no more boys are apprenticed to the trade now adays. and the old hands at the work are disappearing at rapid rate. Fifty years ago." says this old man. as he sits alone in his low-studded loft with its whitewashed brick walls at the top of building on South Street. when
 the swift packets of the Black Wall Line were sailing across the Western ocean. 1t was hard work for a vessel to get a berth at any of these docks. Today, with about the same number of docks. there are open spaces or holidays every where."
 In those days the usual practice was this: Shippers when they reached port would hunt about for some time until they finally fell upon some spot where
 their craft could be squeezed in among the others. After considerable argument
 with the dockmaster. this would be rac-
 compiished. A few days later the dock
 master and the skipper would meet in the
 street. The former would ask the latter
 to drink. When the pair were alongside
 the bar the dockmaster would remark
 I'm in tight place now. captain, can
 you lend me S10 or s20 for day or twog'
 The skipper would respond cheerfuily.
 and that was the end of the matter. The
 loan was never thought of again. One
 of the chief causes of the nresent greatly
 diminished number of sailing vessels is
 the fact that during the war a great
 number of packets were put under the
 English flag. When the war was over no
 law could be brought about, try as ship ping men might. by which they could be brought back again to the American reg iSter.
 'Sailmakers," says this disciple of the palm and needle, were men of a very different position In the old days. Each morning they came to ,ne sail lofts with their high hats, canes and kid gloves. None of them ever asked for job. h. stead they were at once recognized by the boss and begged to, go to work. Oft en, when there was 8 crowd of packets in port, there were not enough men to satisfy all the master sail-makers. Then the custom of those who fell short was l to wait at the foot of their rivals stairs | toward sundown. As tho journeymen came down from their days work they were I asked to come to another loft to work | till o'clock.
 | The pay then was & for ten hours | work. Today it has risen to s for nine hours work, but the demand for work | has become so slack that 1t Is doubtful | If any sailmaker along the front aver | ages more than $l 50 a day throughout the l entire year. The question of the masters | of vessels never used to be How much
 will you charge for the work?'' but rath- | CT, How quickly can you get it done?" In 1850 there were upward of fifty lofts | in New York, all of them crowded with work Today there are scarcely fifteen. | and those lucky if they are busy half the time. While there used to be from 25O | to 300 journeymen sail-makers, now there are only the few old-timers that are left, and no more boys serving their time. | Like caulking, rigging and sparmaking,
 the old trade will be forgotten before
 many years have passed.
 | Circus tentS too, another thing that gave the sailmakers work, as ships grew less. are now going ou: of use. The prin-
 cipal work left is the making of avn ings. and most of those at present can | be made by machinery. or sewed by wo-
 men. Even the oyster boats In these times are propelled by motors. as well as many of the yachts which were orig
 inaHy equipped with masts As for the | sails of any yacht running up to fifty
 feet In length, they can readily be turned | out by a machine.
 l This old sailmaker has now reached
 the age of 72, although he is still as active | and hearty as the average man of 50. | At the age of 16 he began his apprentice ship, and kept at that for four years. after that g.. 25. then $2.50 and finally s. His working time during that period was | eleven hours a dav.
 l In 1854 he began in charge of a loft | of his own. Starting at in the morn | ing from his house, situated in the open I country at the spot where the court house | now stands in Brooklyn, he rarely reach | ed his loft before i2:30. Each one of the | captains whom he looked upon as his | customers had to be visited In order to
 pass the time of day. So much cutting | and slashing was going on tn the loft | that the shop rent never had to be con- | sidered. The rags swept from the floor each night and sold for 4l-2 cents a pound more than covered that item, The old man when he becomes remi- i niscent tells of it being a common sight | in those days to see twenty or thirty schooners of one hundred odd tons sail l ing down the East River together at the | turn of tho tide.
 Of greater tonnage than that all ves- sells were rigged as brigantines, since the | insurance companies, fearful that the | masts would carry away. lifted up their | rates for larger schooners.
 | In speaking of the large schooners of | late years, the old sailmaker says that | he expects them to prove failures. As l for the naming of their masts. he under- | stands them to be fore main, mizzen,
 crossjack, spencer. driver and pusher: | but thinks it would be quito as well if l they were called after the days of the l week. He figures that where twenty men are used now on a vessel of 5000 tons, 300 men would have been required for | the same amount of tonnage (sixty | schooners) in his early days.
 | There he sits smoking in his old loft,
 one of the connecting links with the ships
 and sailors of the days before the Civil | War. His own summary of the case is | this: I'm glad I'm old. else I should certainly have to start an apple-Stand l Before great many years have passed | the only sailmaker in existence will be
 curiosity in dime museum-but | won't be the one.'