The Republican journal. [volume] (Belfast, Me.) 1829-current, 1912-08-29
From Sail to Steam.
How the Editor of the Marine Journal Came
to Make the Change Through the In
A,,orro ~ HE Eoynnor Nanfs;n and EoIlou,.

How the Editor of the Marine Journal Came
to Make the Change Through the In
f1uence of His Former Captain and Fellow
Townsman. :.
[Capt. George L. Norton, in The Marine Jour-
nal, New York;
The recent death of Capt. Thomas
Tapley. of whom an obituary appeared
in this paper July goth, the last but one
to pass away of the seven Tapley
brothers of West Brooksville, Me-, who
in the sixties and seventies were so we'll
known in the merchant marine, calls to
mind the last service he was able to rem
der the writer, and in fact the last time
we were together. 1t was in 1868; we
had recently returned from voyage to
the West Indies in the brig Beaver under
Capt. Tapley, and at the time, as there
was nothing for her to do, she was laid
up, owing to the beginning of hostlities
between the North and the South and
the danger of the loss of the vessel
through capture by one of the Confeder-
ate cruisers which had already burned
and sunk several vessels in the North
Atlantic. At the time referred to, Capt |
Tapley was offered the command of the
steamer Quincy, which was then in Bos-
ton lifting out as an army transport.
This vessel was an old lake steamer, fiat
bottomed, light draft, with large free
board for her underwater surf ce; in
fact, an ugly, ill-proportioned craft with
limited power and actually fit for no SER
vice where harbor could not be reached
in few hours aftersigns of bad weather
appeared.
Capt. Tapley and the writer, who was
to be his second officer in this craft, left
their homes in West Brooksville highly
elated at the prospect of at last getting
into steam where there were no sails to
handle, no rigging to look after, and no
worry about which way the wind blew or
how hard. A steamer, as we viewed it,
that always fetched where she point
ed and the trick in her safe navigation
consisted in keeping her in water deep
enough to float her, which should be easy
with steam as a motive power. Will l
ever forget the look of disgust that pass
ed over my captains usually pleasant
features when, as we walked down Bat
: terry wharf and saw for the first time
what he had imagined would be a de-
lightful change from sail to steam? A
full-bowed, unshapely hull, coated with
! three different colored paints from the
waterline to the plankshear, flagstaff
: at the stem with big black ball hoisted
about half its length, and the clumsiest,
dirtiest looking craft that a sailorman
! ever put his foot on board of.
. Not word was spoken by either Capt.
Tapley or his second mate, who followed
, him on board much detected, and after
making an inspection of the craft on the
upper and 'tween-decks we reached the
) dock, when Capt. Tapley, placing his
| hand on the writer's shoulder, said: ''No
steam for me. return home as soon as
the boat that we came up on last night
will carry me. | will see the owners,
and it you wish 10 take chance in that
thing l am sure | can secure the berth
for you," which he did Little did 1
think it was the last time would ever
see my friend and shipmate again, but
; such is fate. That was fifty years ago,
and during all that time l kept run of
his successful voyages in sailing vessels
until he retired from the sea, and have
kept in touch with him through corre-
spondence and otherwise up to the time
he passed away, July Is, 1912.
To return to the steamer Quincy A
Southerner was appointed captain, and
the writer's credentials appeared suf-
ficient to warrant his shipping me as
first officer. In few days such repairs
as were considered necessary were made
and we cleared for New York with a
Boston pilot to take her there. The Of
ficers and crew with the exception of the
chief engineer were new to the ship, and
a half gale was blowing from the
nightfall. All went we'll until we got
about half way across Massachusetts
Bay toward Cape Cod. A short, nasty
sea was running; just enough to make
the old tub roll almost scuppers-to. In
the confusion and haste of getting away
the stewards and much of the ships
stores had been dumped on board with
no time to properly secure them. The
consequence was that almost everything,
such as lamps, kerosene-oil, coffee,
sugar, the cabin stove, in fact every
movable thing, was adrift and smashing
things generally below. In the meantime
the upper weather smokestack guys
parted and half of the stack went over
the side. Fortunately she had two sets,
owing. to her great rolling capacity, so
We didn't lose our entire smoke and fire
escape. Two hours of this condition
and we We're under the lee of old Cape
Cod in smoother water.
That night settled the writer's opinion
OF the Quincy as miserable, unsafe boat,
and determined him to take plerhead
leap when we arrived in New York,
where we landed at wharf on South
Street between Market and Pike streets,
where C. & R. Poillon had shp-repair-
ing yard. Across the dock lay trim
new steamer which had been built in
Bangor, Me-, the Saxon by name, which
was being fitted with gun forward and
aft. The writer secured a berth as
second mate on this vessel, which had
been chartered to the Department of the
South as an army transport. In which
vessel we remained till the end of the
civil war and afterward commanded her
for short time.
What became of the Quincy? She was
sent to Fort Fisher soon after with sup
plies for the Burnside fleet and founder
ed off Cape Hatteras before reaching her
destination, carrying all hands down with
her. A narrow escape for the writer,
but such is fate.