For sale: pilot cutter Breeze, and cutter Medusa Bay

Pilot cutter Breeze

I’ve learned that two great but very different boats are for sale.

The 39ft pilot cutter Breeze is up for auction on eBay. She was built in 1887 by Coopers of Pill near Bristol for the pilot Albert Cope.

She started her working life working from Cardiff in 1887 and continued to work primarily in the same family ownership until around 1912. She’s believed to be the second oldest Bristol Channel pilot cutter still around, and the only remaining example of a Coopers of Pill-built cutter.

Also the Conyer-built 37ft cutter Medusa Bay is for sale priced at €90,000 in Belgium. She’s said to be in near perfect condition, and I know she has a number of admirers in North Kent, so if anyone is interested, contact me at gmatkin@gmail.com and I’ll put you in touch with the current owner.

  

 

The Death of Richard Parker, leader of the Nore Mutiny

My thanks to Annie Dearman and Steve Harrison for letting me post this copy of their version of the broadside ballad The Death of Parker.

Parker was the leader of the Nore Mutiny.

The year 1797 saw two important mutinies in the British Navy that between them put the wind up the British ruling classes – who naturally feared the French led by Napoleon might invade, or that another revolution might arise on home soil.

From what I read, poor pay and conditions were behind both mutinies – in particular, the sailor’s pay had been fixed for nearly a century and a half and by the late 18th century was  worth very little.

The first mutiny, at Spithead near Portsmouth, went on for about a month until the Navy met the men’s main demands. However, the Admiralty of the time made a fatal mistake in restricting the new pay and conditions to the ships that had been involved at Spithead – and the natural result was a second mutiny among ships stationed on the Thames.

This second mutiny was a somewhat different affair. The ships were scattered along the Nore, a sandbank in the Thames Estuary, and were more difficult to organise than they had been at Spithead.

However, they did establish what was called the ‘Floating Republic‘ made up of no less than 28 ships, and elected a leader, Richard Parker.

Parker was an interesting figure. He had been a naval officer and had risen to the rank of master’s mate, before a dispute with a fellow officer led to a court martial and the loss of his commission in 1793. He then became a manufacturer of golf balls, went bankrupt and finally rejoined the Navy as a crewman – though it is said he was so reluctant to do so that he attempted to jump into the sea on boarding his ship.

No doubt Parker was chosen for the role for many reasons, but perhaps the most important would have been his ability as a navigator. Others might well have been his knowledge of how the Navy did its business at the time, and the fact that while he was clearly on the side of the sailors he would be difficult to dismiss as a typically uneducated if rebellious crewman.

The mutineers made demands for improved pay and conditions to match those won at Spithead, and for pardons for the mutineers and their leaders.

Then, as the mutinying ships briefly blockaded the Thames and the Port of London, the game changed. The mutineers demanded that peace should be made with the French – something that must have seemed close to unthinkable to Royalist rulers on this side of the Channel.

Most historical sources tend to take one side or another, and I’m naturally skeptical about some of the things that are said of Parker, including that he was a supporter of the revolution in France, as earlier he had enjoyed a largely successful career in the Navy.

However, what seems to have happened next was that the mutineers were denied supplies, and sea marks were removed from Thames Estuary’s complicated channels.

This would have made it nearly impossible to sail safely out to sea using the navigational tools available at the time. Having sailed the Thames, I’d say this would have caused havoc among other vessels using the estuary, and it would be interesting to know what fishermen and others thought of this move.

Things became desperate and Parker gave the command for the mutineers to hoist anchor and attempt to sail out of the estuary, no ship moved. Parker and 28 other mutineers were captured and hanged. Most of the mutineers were not punished, however, I guess because they were not seen as strongly political, and in any case were needed to crew the ships now back under Admiralty control.

But the story doesn’t end there. Parker was buried in a shallow grave, much to the outrage of his wife. With the help of women friends she dug him up by night and carried him to a church in London, where he was given a more conventional burial.

It’s said that a guard of some kind passed by while the women were moving Parker- and that they hid him by sitting on him and covering him with their skirts.

There are various accounts and scraps of historical information here, here, here and here. The engraving of the scene shortly before Parker was hung is from the Wikipedia.

Charles Dickens the younger goes off on one

One of Whistler’s ‘nocturne’ series paintings dated 1872-5, including showing a lighter or dumb barge on the Thames in London. The image is from the Wikipedia

I’ve been greatly enjoying Dickens’s Dictionary of the Thames from its Source to the Nore published in 1885, and compiled by the famous Charles Dickens’ first son, also called Charles. It’s available free online here and here, as well as several other sources.

Writing is often about making an argument, and an argument well made can provide fine entertainment, particularly if they’re extended, draw in evidence from many sources and finally achieve the status of a good rant.

Charles Dickens’s Dictionary provides several of these and the following quotations about the geezers who manage dumb barges on the River Thames is one of the best.

Barges. – Although the extension of the railway facilities in the country through which runs the Upper Thames has has very considerably reduced the number of up-river barges, there are still many engaged in the carrying trade. That they are useful may be taken for granted; that they are possibly ornamental, may be a matter of opinion; that they are a decided nuisance when a string of them, under the convoy of a vicious steam-tug, monopolises a lock for an hour or so, admits of no doubt. And the steam tugs themselves are an abomination. They are driven along with a sublime disregard of the interests of persons in punts and small boats – in this respect resembling their more distinguished cousins, the steam launches – and raise a wash which, one would suppose, can be as little beneficial to the banks of the river as it is to the peace of mind of anglers and oarsmen. Nor are the manners and customs of their crews, or of their associates the bargees, such as to conduce to the comfort of riparian proprieters or pleasure seekers. Practically, they seem to have things all their own way, and to do and say just what they like. All that can be done is to give them as wide a berth as possible, and to be thankful, at all events, that there are not more of them.

‘Down the river – from about Brentford downwards, that is – the barges occupy a very different position; an immense amount of the enormous goods traffic of the Port of London being transported by their medium, and their numbers appearing to be steadily on the increase. They are of two kinds, sailing and dumb barges. These latter are propelled by oars alone, and drift up and down apparently at the mercy of the tide. The only use of the long sweeps with which they are provided is, in fact, to keep the barge straight and even this is difficult if not impossible in a high wind. They are quite incapable of getting out of the way, or of keeping any definite course, and as they bump about among the shipping and get across the bows of steamers, they are the very type of blundering obstructiveness, and an excellent example of how time is allowed to be wasted in this country. Crowds of them hang about the entrances of the docks and piers where steamers are unloaded, and the traffic of the river, always excessive, is becoming absolutely congested with them. The books of the Watermen’s Company, in which all barges solely engaged in the London Traffic are registered, showed in a879 a total of 7,000, and about 1,000 additions are made to the list every year. The number of barges leaving the London and St. Katherine’s Docks, on an average, in 24 hours is 100. In the same time 165 leave the East and West India Docks, 100 the Victoria Docks, and 150 the Surrey Docks. To these must be added the great crowd of dumb barges which go from wharf to wharf, and from ship to ship, without entering the docks at all. The consideration of these facts; a trip down the river in a steamboat; and contemplation of the miles and miles of wharves along the both banks, almost all of which are incessantly receiving and sending out goods by dumb barges; will satisfy any one that these barges are a very large factor in the difficult problem of satisfactorily regulating the traffic on the river. And it is not only that their numbers are enormous, and their mode of progress slow, uncertain and even dangerous to other vessels. It is provided in the [ThamesConservancy byelawsthat every dumb barge shall have one competent man on board, and that when they exceed 50 tons they shall carry at least two men. The competent men, as has been said, are in fact incapable of navigating their clumsy charges to any satisfactory result; but that is not all. The evidence of all sorts of river experts given before the the Traffic Committee is exceedingly unfavourable to the men. Mr C. A. Howard, district superintendent of the metropolitan police, gives them a singularly bad character. “In navigating they are the most indifferent class of men on the river,” he thinks. Mr Spicer, Trinity House pilot, is decidedly of opinion that dumb barges are the greatest cause of obstruction, and that they will very seldom get out ot the way or even put themselves straight, when hailed to do so. A great number of witnesses are of even a more decided way of thinking. “I invariably find the men in dumb barges neither obliging nor civil… “

And so on and so forth for some pages. To his allegations of churlishness and incompetence, Dickens adds the accusation of dishonesty, says that gross neglect of duty is rarely punished by suspension and argues that the Watermen’s Company’s monopoly position should be abolished in favour of open competition.

But notice what he says about the men working sailing barges:

It is a singular fact, not unnoticed by the [Traffic] committee, that whereas the men who work the dumb barges are very ill spoken of in almost every quarter, and excellent character is given to the men who navigate the sailing barges further down the river. These men have no monopoly, and are exposed to free and open competition. They are, according to the almost unanimous evidence of skilled witnesses, pilots and so forth, skilled and careful navigators, and have gradually got into a custom of “give and take” with the steamers, which greatly facilitates the working of navigation rules.

Sometime, I’ll follow this up with his equally determined rant against the selfish and stupid operators of steam launches, which are clearly the Chelsea tractor and jetski drivers of his time.