Captain John Wyrill.

Captain JOHN WYRILL, of “Berean.”

“BEREAN.”From a painting in possession of the late Captain John Wyrill.Larger image(175 kB)

“BEREAN.”

From a painting in possession of the late Captain John Wyrill.

Larger image(175 kB)

Her registered measurements were:—

Net tonnage526 tons.Gross tonnage542 „Under deck506 „Length160.5 feet.Breadth30.2 „Depth17.2 „

She had a raised quarterdeck 43 feet long. This was laid with New Zealand Kauri pine planking, 4 inches wide, extending the full length without a butt, and what is more without a knot. All the deck fittings, houses, fiferails, skylights and topgallant bulwarks were of selected teak, the bulwarks being panelled with fretwork designs. The boats also were of polished teak; in fact, the only bit of painted wood about thedecks was the longboat chocks. Even the bunk boards and lining of the foc’s’le were of teak.

TheBereancarried skysails for many years, and the following are her spar measurements:—

Spars.Foremast.Mainmast.Mizenmast.ft.ft.ft.Mast (deck to truck)11211693Lower mast (deck to cap)505450Doublings12129Topmast383829Doublings6.66.6—Topgallant, royal and skysail masts42.642.623Lower yard6262—Lower topsail yard5555—Upper topsail yard5050—Topgallant yard4040—Royal yard3030—Skysail yard2323—Spanker boom——44.6Spanker gaff——44Bowsprit and jibboom48

Mast (deck to truck)

Lower mast (deck to cap)

Doublings

Topmast

Doublings

Topgallant, royal and skysail masts

Lower yard

Lower topsail yard

Upper topsail yard

Topgallant yard

Royal yard

Skysail yard

Spanker boom

Spanker gaff

Bowsprit and jibboom

Berean’sbest point of sailing was with a whole sail breeze and smooth water, the wind quarterly or 2 points abaft the beam. Her best run in the 24 hours was 315 miles. She was, of course, too small and hardly powerful enough to equal the larger iron clippers when running down the easting, but in moderate weather there were not many ships which could show her their sterns. The following sailing records will give some idea of her powers:—

Equator to the Channel17 days.First 4 passages out averaged77 „First 4 passages home averaged84 „

Equator to the Channel

First 4 passages out averaged

First 4 passages home averaged

In sailing round the world from 30° S., 20° W., to 30° S., 20° W., her yearly average was from 80 to 85 days, her quickest circle of the globe being 76 days.

Her best outward passage to Launceston was:—

71 days pilot to pilot.68 days land to land.

In 1881-2 she ran from Launceston to the Lizard in 79 days. During her first 14 voyages, all her passages were under 90 days. She generally left the West India Docks in May and was back in the Thames about the following March.

CaptainJohn Wyrill, who, I am glad to say, is still hale and hearty, tookBereanfrom the stocks and only left her when she changed her flag. He is one of the few sailors left of the good old sort, for he has the distinction of never having served in a steamship. Coming from one of the foremost seafaring families in Scarborough, Captain Wyrill went to sea as far back as 1850; his apprenticeship indentures were for seven years, but he was an acting second mate within three years of his going to sea.

His first command in T. B. Walker’s ships came about in rather a curious way. He was appointed to command a ship, belonging to Mr. Hodgson Smith, the father of Scarborough’s present harbourmaster, in place of a captain who was ill. This ship lay in a South Coast port, but on Captain Wyrill arriving there to take up his command he found that the sick skipper had recovered and sailed on his voyage. Mr. Smith thereupon introduced him to Mr. T. B. Walker and his brother Henry Walker, who, by the way, were natives of Scarborough. Through them he obtained command of a ship called theLady Stanley, his next command was theAsphodel, then theVelocidade, which he left to take theBerean.

Captain Wyrill circumnavigated the globe no less than 36 times, and was 44 years in command of sailing ships, for 42 of which he was in the Tasmanian trade. Indeed no history of Tasmania’s rise to her present prosperity and importance would be complete without some mention of theBereanand her commander. And when it was known in Launceston that Captain Wyrill was leaving Tasmania homeward bound for the last time, with the intention of retiring from the sea, a meeting and public send-off was arranged and a purse of sovereigns and an illuminated address were presented to the veteran captain by the Mayor of the town after several eulogistic speeches, in which Captain Wyrill was referred to “as one of the most popular men ever connected with the shipping of Launceston.” Like many another sailing ship captain, Captain Wyrill was no mean surgeon and the setting of broken limbs at sea held no terrors for him. He once made a very good job of his second mate’s broken arm.

TheBereanwas so free from accidents at sea that after she had been afloat some years the underwriters at Lloyd’s offered to insure her at a specially reduced premium. Her most serious misfortune, whilst under Captain Wyrill, occurred whilst she was towing up to the docks from Gravesend. A large ship ahead suddenly took the ground and theBereanwas unable to clear her, the collision costing her a new bowsprit, besides damages to figure-head and cutwater. Her narrowest escape from shipwreck was owing to a wrong light in 1888 in no less a place than the Channel.Fairplay, in criticising the misdeeds of Trinity House, gives the following account of the incident:—

TheBerean, Captain Wyrill, left London for the Colonies in the fall of last year. Before sailing the captain received from the Boardof Barnacles notice that the light on St. Catherine’s, Isle of Wight, was to be altered in October from a fixed oil light to an electric flash with intervals of about five seconds. The captain, like a prudent man, entered this on his chart, so that it should not be overlooked. Before he left the Colonies, another notice of the impending change was given him, and he was well armed with timely advice. He made his homeward voyage, and calculated he was off the Channel. He had not been able to get an observation for three days, but he felt sure of his position, and he shaped a course right up Channel for Beachy Head. A strong S.W. wind was blowing, and the weather was thick and dirty. When he judged he had run his distance to Portland, he bore up a little for the English land to catch St. Catherine’s light, and word was given to look out for the bright electric flash. No such light was visible and the vessel was still kept away. Presently a dim light was seen 2 points on the starboard bow. At first this light looked green and was taken to be the starboard light of an approaching ship, and the helm was starboarded a little to give more room. A little time showed that idea to be wrong, and eyes were still strained to catch St. Catherine’s with no result. Then the light seen was taken for a steamer’s masthead light, but that notion did not do, and it was quite clear that the light, let it be what it might, was a fixed shore light. Over went the lead, and the soundings showed the shore to be handy, but what shore? Or what part of the shore? Clearly not off St. Catherine’s, because according to notice given there could be no fixed light there.The course and soundings would have agreed with the French shore in the neighbourhood of Cape La Hogue. Something had to be done, and quickly. The light was getting clearer but no land could be seen. If the vessel was on the French coast it would be fatal to haul her wind, if on the English coast it would be destruction to bear up. What was to be done? Over went the lead again. Twelve fathoms. That was enough, thank you. There was too much sea on to stay the ship in a hurry, so the captain wore her round and stood off on the port tack to get back where he came from. The compass soon showed that the flood tide was setting the vessel in by the light, and there was nothing for it but to wear again and get out past the light on the old course, if it could be done. The captain took the wheel, and calling to the crew to pull hard if ever they pulled in their lives, sent her round again. It was hit or miss, but the vessel was smart, and was smartly handled. She came round like a duck and just managed to go clear of the light, which after all, turned out to be St. Catherine’s. It had never been altered.

The course and soundings would have agreed with the French shore in the neighbourhood of Cape La Hogue. Something had to be done, and quickly. The light was getting clearer but no land could be seen. If the vessel was on the French coast it would be fatal to haul her wind, if on the English coast it would be destruction to bear up. What was to be done? Over went the lead again. Twelve fathoms. That was enough, thank you. There was too much sea on to stay the ship in a hurry, so the captain wore her round and stood off on the port tack to get back where he came from. The compass soon showed that the flood tide was setting the vessel in by the light, and there was nothing for it but to wear again and get out past the light on the old course, if it could be done. The captain took the wheel, and calling to the crew to pull hard if ever they pulled in their lives, sent her round again. It was hit or miss, but the vessel was smart, and was smartly handled. She came round like a duck and just managed to go clear of the light, which after all, turned out to be St. Catherine’s. It had never been altered.

Inher 27 years of sailing out to the Antipodes and home, theBereanhad many a contest with clipperstwice her size, in which she gave a very good account of herself.

Captain Wyrill gave a very interesting description of three of these encounters in theNautical Magazinea few years ago, and I do not think I can do better than quote his own words. He writes:—

Coming home from Tasmania in theBereanearly in 1870, about the equator and nearing the tedious “variables,” alias “doldrums,” alias “horse latitudes,” we overhauled the clipper shipYosemite, from San Francisco for United Kingdom for orders. Her captain signalled for permission to come on board, and a prompt reply of welcome went up. The captain reported himself tired and restless, that he was racing home with two or three ships, and was anxious to know what vessels we had spoken. My list was produced, but none of his competitors was in it. After a pleasant visit the captain returned to his ship giving me the names of two of his antagonists.Bereangradually crept away fromYosemite, and in about two days she had dipped below the horizon, but was still visible from aloft. By this time we were coming up with two ships, which, by their spread of stunsails, water-sails, Jimmy Greens, etc., were evidently in a great hurry. In exchanging signals they proved to be the two vessels racing theYosemite, viz., shipLady Blomfieldand barqueCerastes; the latter was slightly ahead. We passed within hail of theLady Blomfield, and when I reported theYosemitenot far astern the captain was greatly excited. Throwing up his cap, he exclaimed, “Go and tell the other ship there is a bet of £100 between them.”A hand went aloft and pointed out theYosemiteastern. Shortly after we sailed alongside theCerastes, but the captain took the news of the racer’s proximity very calmly and seemed to be surprised she was so near. We gradually got away from these two ships and saw no more of them. On arrival in the English Channel I sent a report ashore which appeared in theShipping Gazette, and I found considerable interest was being taken in this race. I was interviewed byYosemite’sagents as to my opinion which ship would win. Two or three days afterBereanarrived in LondonCerastesreached Queenstown, and was the winner of that race.In 1893, homeward bound from Tasmania to London, Lat. 19° S., Long. 22° W.,Bereanfell in with Geo. Thompson’s Aberdeen White Star clipperSamuel Plimsollfrom Sydney to London; strong S.E. trade wind, squally. At daylight the two ships were exactly abeam of each other, and throughout the day neither could gain an inch. (The old man of theSamuel Plimsollstamped up and down his poop all day in avery excited state of mind and kept exclaiming, “A little thing like that hanging on to me like a flea and I cannot shake her off.”) The royals were frequently lowered during the squalls and hoisted again when they had passed.Samuel Plimsollsteering slightly more easterly, the two ships gradually closed, and if the respective courses had been continued must have collided.Berean, being the windward ship, was bound to give way, so at sundown she was shaken up in the wind and theSamuel Plimsollallowed to pass ahead. At daylight next day, the Aberdeen clipper was well out to windward and slightly ahead, and in that bearing the ships parted, seeing no more of each other.Unfortunately, in the chops of the Channel,Bereanwas surrounded with a fleet of herring nets, some of which clung to her the rest of the passage impeding her speed.Samuel Plimsollarrived at Gravesend an hour or two ahead, but being too early in the tide had to anchor.Berean, being of lighter draught, passed her and was first in dock. But for the detention through fouling the nets, in all probability these two ships would have reached Gravesend together after a race of 6000 miles.In 1895, when outward bound to Tasmania and in the doldrums north of the equator,Bereanfell in with the four-master Loch linerLoch Carron, bound to Adelaide. The two ships after a chat with signals parted on opposite tacks and did not sight each other again until crossing the Great Bight of Australia, when at lunch one day the welcome cry of “Sail-ho!” was heard. Going on deck the chief officer and myself naturally looked ahead for the stranger, but a ship on our starboard quarter was pointed out.Bereanwas steering due east for Tasmania with the wind right aft, the worst point for fine-lined ships, head sails all becalmed; theLoch Carronhauling up for Adelaide was carrying the wind 2 or 3 points on the quarter, all sails drawing, and was gaining on theBerean. When she got into our wake she kept off on the same course as if intending to speak, but finding she could not gain on that course hauled to again, crossing astern, and with the difference in the courses the two ships were soon out of sight of each other. The picture of theLoch Carronas she sheered away under all sail, scattering the feathery foam from her bows, still lives, forming one of the series of mental photographs an old sailor naturally collects.

Bereangradually crept away fromYosemite, and in about two days she had dipped below the horizon, but was still visible from aloft. By this time we were coming up with two ships, which, by their spread of stunsails, water-sails, Jimmy Greens, etc., were evidently in a great hurry. In exchanging signals they proved to be the two vessels racing theYosemite, viz., shipLady Blomfieldand barqueCerastes; the latter was slightly ahead. We passed within hail of theLady Blomfield, and when I reported theYosemitenot far astern the captain was greatly excited. Throwing up his cap, he exclaimed, “Go and tell the other ship there is a bet of £100 between them.”

A hand went aloft and pointed out theYosemiteastern. Shortly after we sailed alongside theCerastes, but the captain took the news of the racer’s proximity very calmly and seemed to be surprised she was so near. We gradually got away from these two ships and saw no more of them. On arrival in the English Channel I sent a report ashore which appeared in theShipping Gazette, and I found considerable interest was being taken in this race. I was interviewed byYosemite’sagents as to my opinion which ship would win. Two or three days afterBereanarrived in LondonCerastesreached Queenstown, and was the winner of that race.

In 1893, homeward bound from Tasmania to London, Lat. 19° S., Long. 22° W.,Bereanfell in with Geo. Thompson’s Aberdeen White Star clipperSamuel Plimsollfrom Sydney to London; strong S.E. trade wind, squally. At daylight the two ships were exactly abeam of each other, and throughout the day neither could gain an inch. (The old man of theSamuel Plimsollstamped up and down his poop all day in avery excited state of mind and kept exclaiming, “A little thing like that hanging on to me like a flea and I cannot shake her off.”) The royals were frequently lowered during the squalls and hoisted again when they had passed.Samuel Plimsollsteering slightly more easterly, the two ships gradually closed, and if the respective courses had been continued must have collided.Berean, being the windward ship, was bound to give way, so at sundown she was shaken up in the wind and theSamuel Plimsollallowed to pass ahead. At daylight next day, the Aberdeen clipper was well out to windward and slightly ahead, and in that bearing the ships parted, seeing no more of each other.

Unfortunately, in the chops of the Channel,Bereanwas surrounded with a fleet of herring nets, some of which clung to her the rest of the passage impeding her speed.Samuel Plimsollarrived at Gravesend an hour or two ahead, but being too early in the tide had to anchor.Berean, being of lighter draught, passed her and was first in dock. But for the detention through fouling the nets, in all probability these two ships would have reached Gravesend together after a race of 6000 miles.

In 1895, when outward bound to Tasmania and in the doldrums north of the equator,Bereanfell in with the four-master Loch linerLoch Carron, bound to Adelaide. The two ships after a chat with signals parted on opposite tacks and did not sight each other again until crossing the Great Bight of Australia, when at lunch one day the welcome cry of “Sail-ho!” was heard. Going on deck the chief officer and myself naturally looked ahead for the stranger, but a ship on our starboard quarter was pointed out.Bereanwas steering due east for Tasmania with the wind right aft, the worst point for fine-lined ships, head sails all becalmed; theLoch Carronhauling up for Adelaide was carrying the wind 2 or 3 points on the quarter, all sails drawing, and was gaining on theBerean. When she got into our wake she kept off on the same course as if intending to speak, but finding she could not gain on that course hauled to again, crossing astern, and with the difference in the courses the two ships were soon out of sight of each other. The picture of theLoch Carronas she sheered away under all sail, scattering the feathery foam from her bows, still lives, forming one of the series of mental photographs an old sailor naturally collects.

Another still more interesting meeting was with the famousThermopylae. Both ships were outward bound, and theThermopylaeoverhauled and passed theBereanto the southward of the Cape, the weather being unsettled, and theThermopylae, being able to bear more sail than the littleBerean, soon went out of sight ahead. Nevertheless she only passed Cape Otway17 hours ahead of theBerean, so Captain Wyrill was not quite broken-hearted.

On another occasion theBerean, when outward bound, crossed the southern tropic in company with Green’sMelbourne(afterwards the well-known cadet shipMacquarie) and the little barque arrived in Launceston two or three days before the big iron ship arrived in Hobson’s Bay.

Again, when homeward bound, theBereanwas passed off the Falkland Isles in a strong breeze by Green’s fast Blackwall frigateWindsor Castle, nevertheless theWindsor Castledocked in London four days later than theBerean.

All the above trials of speed were with vessels very much larger and more powerful than Mr. Walker’s clipper barque, but theBereanonce had a very interesting race round the world with another well-known barque, the littleHarriet McGregor, of 331 tons, belonging to Hobart. The two ships left Tasmania together, and theBereanarrived at Gravesend, 90 days out, beating theHarriet McGregorby a week. On the return passage, theHarriet McGregorwas loaded first and got away about nine days ahead ofBerean, but again Walker’s clipper got in ahead of her, this time by one day only, after making the run to Launceston in 77 days.

Mr.T. B. Walker died in 1894, and all his ships were sold two years later.

Bereanwent to the Norwegians and was employed for the next 14 years carrying ice from Norway to the Thames. Captain Wyrill took over theEden Holmeand some of his old hands went with him. He washauling into the London Dock after his first voyage to Tasmania in theEden Holme, when the poor littleBereanunder her new flag was hauling out; and the change for the worse in the old ship was so marked that one of her old crew remarked to Captain Wyrill with tears in his eyes:—“There she is, sir, but she looks very different from what she was whenwehad her.” Nevertheless, though uncared for, theBereanstill continued to make good regular passages, and was a constant visitor to the Regent’s Canal Dock. But in 1910 she was run into by a foreign steamer below Gravesend, when inward bound from Langesund, and was towed ashore in a sinking condition. This was the end of her active career, for she was now condemned, and after being patched up went to Falmouth as a hulk. I saw her there not many years before the war, and the marks of the thoroughbred were still plain to be seen.

TheCorinth, Walker’s only other composite ship, was lost by spontaneous combustion.

In the year 1890 she sailed from Launceston, in the wake of theBerean, with a cargo of wool and skins, under command of Captain Littler. When she was a week out and about 300 miles S.E. of New Zealand, signs of fire in the hold were discovered early on a Sunday morning. Prompt measures to fight the fire were at once taken, everything was battened down, holes were cut in the deck, through which the hose was led and the wool bales were soused with water; nevertheless the fire gained rapidly and at 10 o’clock the same night the ship had to be abandoned. The crew got safely away in two boats and headed for the New Zealand coast, but with little hope of making the landagainst the stormy weather of the prevailing westerly winds.

After they had been five days and nights adrift, the smoke of a steamer was sighted about sundown; then darkness set in. The provisions had become soaked in salt water but the shipwrecked crew had managed to keep a few rockets dry, and these were sent up one after the other in the hope of attracting the attention of the steamer. At last only one rocket remained, and after some discussion as to whether to risk it or keep it for a future occasion, it also was fired and was seen from the bridge of the approaching vessel. However, she showed no signs of having seen it in the way of an answering rocket or flare, so one can imagine the relief of the shipwrecked crew when her masthead and later her side lights were seen, steering end on for the boats. The steamer proved to be theFifeshire, homeward bound from New Zealand, and she took the Corinth castaways right on to London.

A description of Walker’s iron barques will be found at the end ofPart III.

Perhapsthe most familiar ship to old City men was the littleEthel, which under the command of Captain A. Ross ran for years with the utmost regularity between London and Tasmania, and when in the Thames always moored at Hayes Wharf, London Bridge. She was a composite barque of 556 tons and was built in 1866 by Pile, of Sunderland, and owned by Fenwick & Co., of London.

Astill smaller ship than theEthelin the Tasmanian trade was the smart littleHarriet McGregor,which had the “round the world” race withBerean. A. McGregor who built her was also her owner.

She was built at Hobart in 1871, and measured:—

Registered tonnage331tons.Length134.2feet.Beam27.6„Depth15.9„

This little ship for year after year did the following annual round with the regularity of a clock. On Christmas day she left Hobart for London, loaded with wool and sperm oil. She returned to Hobart from London with general cargo at 40s. and often more. Then she ran across to Mauritius from Hobart with coal, and returned with a cargo of sugar, in time to get away on her usual sailing day for London.

Inthe early days the Fremantle wool trade, including that of the Ashburton River and Sharks Bay, was all carried in the holds of fast clipper barques, such as Walker’sWestbury,DecapolisandCorinth, and well worthy to be ranked with these were theCharlotte PadburyandHelena Mena, both of which were well known and much admired in the London River for many years.

TheCharlotte Padburywas a wood barque of 640 tons, she was built at Falmouth in 1874 for W. Padbury, of Fremantle.

TheHelena Menawas a composite barque of 673 tons, and was built by Thomson, of Sunderland, in 1876, for J. Wilson, of London.

TheCharlotte Padburywas wrecked in April, 1903, and theHelena Menawas sold to the French for £1275 in 1898.

These were two of the last of the wood and composite clippers, for by the early seventies every shipowner, however conservative, found himself compelled to go in for iron ships, if he was to compete successfully in the world’s freight market.

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