Master Mariner

THE LIFE AND VOYAGES OF

AMASA DELANO

Captain Amasa Delano, 1763-1823



BY
JAMES B. CONNOLLY

1943

[ Table of Contents ] [ Map ] [ Glossary ]

CHAPTER I

Away for Eastern Waters

IT WAS A RAINY MORNING in Duxbury, and always of a morning when it rained, and promised to stay raining, Samuel Delano gave his shipyard hands the day off.

Amasa Delano, Samuel's son and yard foreman, had been waiting a rainy day for a look-in on the new big ship that everybody was beginning to talk about, the one that was building in the yard of Daniel Briggs in Quincy.

Duxbury and Quincy lie both on the Massachusetts south shore; Quincy being up Boston way. It was still raining when Amasa set out, and it was twelve, maybe fourteen miles over the road; but it was a spring rain, a refreshment like; and twelve miles, or fourteen, was no more than a morning stroll for Amasa.

By all the gossip, this new one was to be quite a ship, the largest merchant ship ever launched in America. A notable naval designer, William Hacket, had laid down her lines, and Daniel Briggs was a shipbuilder of high repute.

Well, there she was, her frames and beams in place, her outer planks tree-nailed to the frames, her deck planks in a pile beside the hull, when Amasa arrived to look her over.

Amasa had been almost born and brought up in his father's shipyard-he knew what was what, or should be, in a ship abuilding. No doubt of it, here was a big hull, and a sweetly shaped hull; but she was being wronged. The white oak of her underplanking had been cut green. White oak above all should be allowed to lie in dock for proper seasoning before use. And that pine planking had also been cut green.

The big ship was being built for Major Shaw of Boston, and Major Shaw and Amasa's father had been friends since the War for Independence, in which they had both fought; and Amasa now felt like rushing to the major and protesting the green timber. But he was a thoughtful soul always. No, no, that wouldn't do. That would sound like the son of a shipbuilder trying to do an injury to a rival shipbuilder. Also, it perhaps wasn't the builder's fault at all. Gossip had it that Major Shaw was eager to see his new big ship in the water.

Amasa wasn't the only visitor to Briggs's yard that day. Ship captains of his acquaintance were also there to inspect the new ship. This was in 1789, when the liberated colonies were stirring to make themselves into a real nation. Most of their four million people had been living since their early days within the tidewater reaches of the Atlantic seaboard; their sea commerce meant much to them, everything to many of them. The talk of the captains in the Quincy taverns this day was all of foreign commerce.

Amasa could talk with any of them of the ports of Western Europe and the West Indies; but the talk this day in Quincy was all of the far eastern ports-of Manila, Batavia, and Bombay, of Canton and Macao; of China and the Philippines, of Java and the Île de France. There was talk too of the tribes of the big and little isles of the South Seas, the peaceful and savage tribes, the cannibals and the headhunters.

And for trade? Did Amasa know that Handasyd Perkins, the Boston merchant, was sailing with Captain Johnnie Magee for a first-hand look into the China trade? No, Amasa did not know. Had Amasa heard that Major Shaw's new ship would be sailing for Canton when she was ready for sea? No, he hadn't heard; and more and more he felt himself being driven to leeward by the talk around him; but that last about Major Shaw's ship and Canton stirred his imagination. He had been two years ashore--too long ashore. It was time maybe that he went back to sea.

Amasa had a modest idea that Major Shaw would consider him for an officer in his new big ship. He was known, to the major through his father; and on his own account too, having been a soldier in the Continental Army at fourteen, a hand in a privateer at seventeen, and the master of a ship at twenty-three. He was now twenty-six.

How Amasa Delano came to be working in his father's shipyard at twenty-six, after being master of a ship at twenty-three, would take too long to tell here-the job at hand now being to get the new big ship under way and Amasa on his way to sea again.

On his next rainy day Amasa trudged to Boston to see Major Shaw; and the major told him he would like him for second officer of the Massachusetts-yes, that was to be her name-and he was leaving it to Amasa to sail her around to Boston after her launching.

Amasa sailed the big ship to Boston after her launching. She was then only under jury rig, but the full beauty of her hull was there. The officers of five French ships of war in the harbor hurried aboard her for a closer inspection. They gave her high praise. Captain John Linzee, of the British frigate Penelope, an authority on shipbuilding, pronounced her as perfect a model of ship as the world could show. People of high and low station came from the north- and south-shore ports and from inland towns to look her over. There was talk of her up and down the Atlantic coast.

Job Prince, a competent captain, was named by Major Shaw to command the Massachusetts. Josiah Roberts, a naval lieutenant during the war, and a former shipmate of Amasa's in the West India trade, was named first officer. Besides signing Amasa on as second officer, Major Shaw named him for navigator; and the day she was put in commission he gave Amasa the honor of hoisting her colors.

When it came time to ship a crew, hundreds of seamen came arunning to the Boston waterfront to get aboard. From day to day, the likely-looking ones would be accepted; and as fast as accepted, up the wharf they usually went for a last drink. But many, the most of them, failed to return. Replacements were shipped; and they went up the wharf, and most of them failed to return.

Inquiries disclosed a lady fortuneteller who had taken the honored name of Molly Pitcher of Independence War fame. There was no law against her taking the name, but surely it wasn't quite right; and atop of that the lady had been consulting her astral bodies and passing the messages along the Boston water front. It seems the new great ship was doomed. She would never make her port of destination, she would go down at sea, and all hands would go down with her.

One hundred and fifty men were shipped to get sixty for her crew.

The Boston harbor front was crowded with important people waving the Massachusetts a fair wind the day she put to sea. The newsprints of that day published her numerous seagoing good points. She was 116 feet on the keel; her beam was 36 feet 10 inches. She was heavily sparred, her foremast being 81 feet long and 27 inches in diameter; her mainmast 84 feet and 28 inches in diameter; her main-topmast 59 feet and 1 5 inches in diameter. Her main yard was 74 feet; her fore and mizzen spars were in proportion.

She had four deck officers; a chief bosun and two bosun's mates; a gunner, a carpenter, a cooper, four quartermasters, a cabin steward, and a ship's steward. Amasa's younger brother Samuel, a competent shipwright, was the carpenter. Major Shaw sailed in her as a passenger and took along his own body servant.

A proud ship, the Massachusetts; and a proud young second officer, Amasa Delano, when he took over his duties, which consisted of laying the ship's course, of keeping a record of the tides, winds, variations of the compass, of distances logged, of the day-by-day latitudes and longitudes. He had long waited to make a name as a navigator, and here he was now leading this new big ship on the way she should go on the long road to China.

Amasa Delano came of seafaring stock from far back, and being a ship captain on the high seas at twenty-three was creditable; but navigator of the greatest merchant ship out of America at twenty-six-there was truly something. Navigators aplenty there were who could take a ship to the far ports by compass, log, and lead line, plus the cabin clock for a chronometer and a high-noon shot at the sun; but to be making use too of the stars and moon by night- not many of them were up to that. Too often the log-and-compass navigators approaching a strange coast in thick weather had to heave to the ship; and they were losing time on a passage when they should be going forward.

Since away back, as a hand before the mast in his teens, Amasa had been preparing himself for difficult navigation; and by now-at twenty-six, and on the passage to China- he had superb confidence in his own maritime observations. He would consult his charts and chart books for the position-the latitude and longitude-for every little isle or headland the ship raised, but until he had checked positions by his own observations he would not make final admissions of their correctness.

Amasa was a great one for thoroughness. It annoyed him that officers on the Massachusetts put to sea without taking along all the necessary aids to safe navigation on voyages to faraway ports. While still short of arrival in China, the young navigator Amasa Delano was recording:

Every commander and every chief officer of a ship bound around Cape Horn or the Cape of Good Hope should furnish himself with a good brass sextant. A wooden sextant will not keep the adjustment so that it can be depended on. The books necessary are no more than a requisite table, a Nautickal almanack, or an ephermeris. Correct instruments, books, and constant practice, with a little instruction, should enable an officer to ascertain his longitude within ten or fifteen miles, provided he can get an object east or west of the moon. It makes a sailor very happy after being at sea a hundred days or more to take his books and instruments and ascertain his position on the globe within ten or a dozen miles. It is not delay alone that may result from not knowing the longitude, but the loss of many lives.

The Massachusetts had passed the equator in the Indian Ocean and was roiling up toward the coast of Java. It was the southwest monsoon, and the ship, being northerly bound, was stepping along before the fair monsoon wind. American captains of those days were all strong for a neat appearance of their ships in foreign ports; arid so this day several hands were on a staging over the side of the ship, scraping and painting her planking so that she would be looking her prettiest entering the harbor of Batavia.

It was one of those beautiful tropic days at sea: a clear sky overhead, and curly white crests chasing each other prettily on the blue surface of the sea. A careless hand on deck let go the rope holding one end of the overside stage while four men were still at work on it. Three of the four were dumped into the sea. The sea wasn't rough, but it didn't have to be to make hard going for men who couldn't swim overwell and who had been left far astern before the fast sailing ship could be brought head to wind and a boat lowered. Amasa was put in charge of the boat. He managed to save two of the three men, which was doing well under the conditions.

Men were being lost pretty regularly on those long voyages, and lost in ways other than drowning. Thus, from the log of the Massachusetts a few days later:

While shortening sail off the harbor of Batavia, Thomas French, midshipman, fell from the main yard and was instantly killed. He was buried ashore with decency and honor, with minute guns from the ship, from the time the funeral boats left the ship until the corpse was interred.

Of Batavia, his first eastern harbor, Amasa the navigator records:

Batavia harbor is filled with small islands, which break the force of the wind to vessels at anchor there. A thousand ships may ride in safety. On the island of Onroost are excellent dockyards and conveniences for building and repairing ships. There are six to eight fathoms for anchorage with good muddy bottom for holding. A seaman could sail the latitude and longitude of all the eastern islands and find no harbor like Dutch Batavia, a complete perfect harbor for a ship in from sea.

Back in Boston, Major Shaw had laid in a special line of goods for the Batavia market, and, arrived there, he held up the ship while he drummed up trade ashore. He fared poorly. A foreigner had to show something extra-special to hook those Dutch merchants into buying; also, Dutch and British merchants in the Orient were not allowing hustling American merchants or ship captains to get a grip anywhere in the eastern trade if they could prevent it. After a fruitless week in Batavia, the major ordered the ship to push on to China.

While in the China Sea, the ship ran into one of those Asiatic typhoons; as a young captain, Amasa had had to do with West India hurricanes. They had never worried him, nor should they worry the master of a ship who knew how to prepare for them and had a well-found ship under him. So to Amasa's way of thinking, and the Massachusetts being a well-found ship and her captain a competent sailing master, he wasn't worrying now; but this being his first typhoon, he was curious to learn wherein they differed from hurricanes. And so he took notice of this one.

The typhoon took place at the change of the monsoon. This one broke in from the southwest, hauled around to west and north, and settled down in the northeast. We split her mainsail, fore topsail and fore topmast staysail; but owing to our ship being an excellent sea boat, we suffered only trifling damage compared with some other ships. One Dutch ship was lost with all her crew among the islands in Canton Bay. She had three or four hundred thousand Spanish dollars on board. A Danish ship was totally dismasted, as were several other European ships. Some of them were not far from us during the typhoon. Many Chinese junks were lost with their crews, many torn to pieces in their sails and rigging, many others driven ashore.

Canton was then the only open port to China, and ships bound for there had first to report at Macao, one hundred miles or so down the coast. The Massachusetts proceeded to Macao, and while there Amasa looked into what a ship's navigator should be looking into; and so:

Macao: The outer harbor is called the Tupa. It is formed by four small islands. A ship coming from the eastward must not approach very near to the east point of the south island. She will then carry five fathoms of water until she is far enough to the westward to be sheltered from all winds except two or three points from the east. These easterly openings are so very small that the sea has never sufficient force to produce any harm. The course through the Tupa to the inner harbor consists of an entrance west between the north and south islands, then a passage northwest, and then nearly north into the inner harbor. Weather is good from March to end of October.

Amasa also noted, as a matter of general maritime interest that typhoons happened at the change of the monsoon- that is, in April or May, and in September and October. At these stages a navigator had to make allowances for short and. irregular seas and strong wind and ocean currents. During the southwest monsoon, which was when the Massachusetts ran the Indian Ocean up, the weather was uniformly fine and the navigation pleasant.

After being duly entered at Macao, the Massachusetts was allowed to proceed to Canton. All foreign ships had to take a Chinese pilot to Canton; and so here now on the poop of the Massachusetts was one in silk trousers and a silk shirt outside his trousers, waving an arm this side and now the other side, making singsong noises at intervals, having a time of it on the ship's poop, and collecting a fat fee when he eventually delivered the ship at Canton. Amasa could have done the ship the same service and worn his shirt inside his trousers and saved the ship's owner' the fat fee, but that would have been outside the law.

Major Shaw hurried ashore at Canton. He returned, re-porting a down market for their sort of cargo, and then, having only $15,000 in specie to his name, he could not see to be sticking around waiting for better days. He decided to sell the Massachusetts. The Dutch East India Company was in the market for a replacement for the ship they had lost in the typhoon. They offered $65,000 for the Massachusetts, which Amasa thought a good price. He was thinking of the green timber in her and speculating on how long before it started to dry rot.

Major Shaw accepted the $65,000 and paid off the ship's company. By the maritime law of that day he was dealing fairly by his officers and crewmen when he paid their wages from Boston to the sale of the ship in Canton; but there they were, twelve thousand miles from home without a ship.

The captain and first officer took passage for home with an American ship at Macao. It was common professional courtesy for ship captains in foreign ports to offer free passage home to fellow-American officers seeking a passage home. The third and fourth officers signed on with Dutch and English ships for European ports.

Amasa wasn't sure just what he wanted to do next, except that he wasn't for going home. No, not yet. He knew himself for a qualified officer in a part of the world where ships were coming and going and regularly losing officers through sickness-fever usually-or dissatisfaction or what not. If sticking around China should grow wearisome, he wasn't worrying about not finding an officer's vacancy on a westbound ship.

An interesting port, Canton: No foreigners were allowed to rove the city at night-they had to keep to their water- front factories, which combined officers' living quarters and storage for goods. But the port by daytime was worth looking over; and while looking it over, Amasa made some good friends among the supercargoes of the foreign factories. He stayed around Canton until, his ship's wages being pretty well gone, it came a day to get himself a shore job of some kind, or look for a ship's officer's billet or a passage home.

Major Shaw had spread the word in Canton of Amasa's shipbuilding, and a Dutch supercargo friend, name of Van Braun, told him that still lying to anchor at Whampoa, and waiting for an expert shipwright to come along and make her fit to go to sea again, was the Danish ship that had been so badly damaged in that typhoon in the China Sea.