(continued from part 2) – “This was thought a great feat of seamanship at the time.
“Triphook, you must know, was an old man when I knew him. He had perfectly white hair, and always wore his cap on one side of his head, and his uniform frock-coat tightly buttoned up. I don’t think any man now living ever saw him without his. fox-terrier Chance – wherever the captain was, there was Chance.
” I daresay a good many of you have heard of the Stag Rock in Holyhead Harbour, the existence of which was supposed by many to be mythical, because, after a searching Admiralty survey, no trace of it could be found. ‘this was owing to the fact, as was afterwards ascertained, that it was a single sugar-loaf pinnacle on which the lead would not lodge, but dropped down the side.
“Well one day in a dense fog the Ulster touched on this. She was going dead slow and touched very lightly, but hung there, and Trip stopped her instanter. He didn’t reverse his engines or do anything, but just waited for the tide to rise, when she lifted off of her own accord. The divers went down and reported that several feet of the keel were broken away and several plates strained, and the ship was ordered into dry dock at Liverpool.
Captain Kendall, Commander of R.M.S. “Ireland”
(from a photograph).
“Trip stormed, and fumed, and swore that he didn’t believe any damage was done, and one morning he quietly plunged over the steamer’s side; some of the deck – hands seeing
this, thought that the accident playing on his mind had driven him to suicide, and raised the cry of ‘Man overboard!’
“The crew ran to the starboard side where he was last seen, and leaned over, speculating, pitying, commiserating, and dangling lifebuoys and rope-ends in the water against the reappearance of the hapless skipper, when, to everyone’s astonishment, the voice of the said hapless skipper was heard on the port side, abusing everybody in antiquated but profane sea English of a bygone day, for not holding out a rope’s end to him. When he came on board he triumphantly informed all and sundry that he had dived under his ship and felt along the keel, and that no damage was done.
” He was seventy-four years of age when he accomplished this feat
“Still, the fiat had gone forth that the ship must be docked, so into dry dock she went, when it was found that the old man was right, and that only a little paint was scratched off her keel.
“On another occasion an old naval shipmate came to see him, when his was the lying-by ship at Holyhead, and was amazed at the sight of the six boats with the iron davits turned inboard, and the boats resting on chocks secured by lashings and covered with tarpaulins.
“He had never been shipmates with iron davits before, having only been used to the wooden cranes on which boats were hoisted on the old-fashioned wooden warships, and he maintained that it would be impossible to get these boats out in time to save the life of a man overboard. ‘Would it ?’ said Trip. ‘I’ll show you later on, and bet you a dinner it can be managed.’
“The bet was made and as soon forgotten, and the next morning the captain mounted the paddle-box to exercise the crew at firedrill, ‘Fire in the fo’c’s’le ! ‘ he shouted, and immediately afterwards, as the crew were crowding forward,’ Fire in the ladies’ cabin !’ Then he looked at his watch, buttoned his uniform frock-coat close up to his throat, and the
next moment a voice was heard calling out, ‘The captain’s overboard ! Pick him up !’ and when the startled crew looked up the commander had disappeared from the paddle – box. Triphook’s old friend cried out in genuine consternation,
‘Your captain’s fallen overboard, my men ! Save poor old Trip, save your captain ! Oh, be quick, there’s good fellows ! ‘
(continued in part 4)