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 XII
Misadventures in Calcutta
WHEN the southwest monsoon is blowing, a sailing master's first object in leaving the harbor of Bombay is to get to windward of two small islands, Henry and Keneri. Until this is done and the ship is entirely outside of them, a sailor does not consider himself safe. Ships have been driven to the leeward and upon the shore, where they could never get off.
Having made the open sea, Amasa held the Hector well offshore, in thirty fathoms of water, while sailing her down the coast of Malabar (a name for the west coast of India between Bombay and Ceylon). There was good water nearer the land, and French privateers were likely to be met offshore; but he wasn't for wasting time bringing the big Hector into the wind to sound and make certain the good water was under him.
And when night came shoal water wasn't the only danger to ships holding close to the Malabar shore. The fishermen of that coast liked to hold their nets in place with trunks of good-sized trees. Up to thirty inches in diameter some of the tree trunks would be, and so firmly embedded in the bottom that a ship running bow on to them in the night stood a strong chance of having her forward planks crushed in, and she in her distress be compelled to put in to the nearest port.
The nearest port for Amasa would be Bombay; and having left that port behind him he wished to see no more of it. And to be putting back there so soon after departing from it would surely be spoken of as poor seamanship on a captain's part. Amasa was too proud of his reputation as a navigator to risk having such a catastrophe happen to him, so inshore waters on the coast of Malabar were not for him. No sir!
Shoals? The charts were not always sure guides in this matter of shoals. And no blaming the chart makers for that. No. Every earthquake near the sea raised a new shoal or a new deep somewhere alongshore. If a ship captain's business called for sailing through such dangers to reach a port of call, why through them let him sail and take his chances. But unnecessary risk to his ship? No, no. That wasn't doing right by the ship or her owners.
The Hector arrived abreast of Goa, the principal port of Malabar. Amasa's old shipmate Wedgeborough of the McCluer expedition was now holding down a good government billet. Goa was a Portuguese port, but the English government had sufficient influence there to name Wedgeborough master attendant of the port. Amasa thought to put in to Goa and show off a bit to his three ship's officers, if nobody else, of how he stood in the estimate of an important official of the port of Goa.
He gave up the notion a bit reluctantly; and down the coast of Malabar he sailed without delay and around Cape Comorin, which is that southern tip of India so unfavorably known for its great gales of wind.
Maa Kanya Kumari at Kanya Kumari, Tamil Nadu, India
Kanya Kumari (formerly known as Cape Comorin) is situated at the
extreme southern end of India, where the Bay of Bengal meets the
Indian Ocean and the Arabian Sea. During Chaitrapurnima (the Tamil
name for the full-moon day that generally falls in April), it's
possible to enjoy the unique experience of seeing the sun set and the
moon rise over the ocean simultaneously.
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Comorin! Amasa recalled it for long after he had left it astern. A typhoon pounced on the Hector one midnight off Comorin, and, the officer of the deck being caught unready; the Hector was all but capsized, and also pretty nearly stripped of her sail spread. Amasa had been standing long, exhausting watches and had gone below and was asleep in his bunk when the typhoon struck. He could do no more than heave to the ship and, when the typhoon moderated, bend on new canvas and set her on her course again.
Amasa rounded the south tip of India and headed up the east coast with his navigator's curiosity aroused. What was it like, this east coast?
He found the shore low, with two, or say three, good harbors along the road. A poor coast to recommend to navigators. Good anchorages were hundreds of miles apart, and flat, sandy beaches were extending a mile out from the mainland. What chances for a ship finding a shore like that under her lee in a typhoon? Not many. She'd be beaten to death in short order; and the sand would suck her timbers under so rapidly that mariners sailing past the spot a few months later might not be able to see even her main-truck showing. A Godforsaken coast for a ship to be looking at from sea, yes sir!
Amasa had never been to Calcutta, but he had it from ship captains in Bombay that it was no port for careless entrance. So? He consulted his India Pilot--in two large volumes--conned their pages for sailing directions, and learned that the Bombay captains hadn't been trying to worry him needlessly. Care was necessary in taking a ship into Calcutta. That Hooghly River was no Dutch canal. He hailed a pilot boat to show him the way up the river to Calcutta. Then:
"I made a signal to the pilot boat to get under way, and began to heave at our own anchor. When the cable came short, the pails of the capstans gave way, the bars flew around and knocked down, or threw sixty of the crew against the guns and other articles, cracking some heads, breaking some arms and legs, and producing numerous injuries among others of the crew. The ship was held by a short of the cable, the palls of the capstan were fixed again, the people who were able returned to work. They tugged till the cable was nearly up and down; and suddenly the capstan broke into halves.
We put stoppers on the cable, short as it was, and reeved a tackle with a hawser and purchase blocks for the purpose of weighing our anchor, the ship hanging by a new cable of 22 ½ inches [circumference] fast to an anchor of 5500 pounds in stiff clay bottom. Before the tackle could be fitted for the purpose of putting on the cable, it parted in hawse hole, and thus went our third anchor. We still had one more anchor and a cable bent to it."
And then?
"We made sail and followed the pilot boat, which had got under way long before us in consequence of our difficulties. The pilot boat ran for the first buoy, and after some time made a signal for it; and then she signaled that the buoy had shifted its place; then a signal for the second buoy; then a signal that this buoy had also shifted its place; afterwards a signal for the second buoy again; and then that the second buoy had shifted its place a second time. Until a signal was made for the third buoy, we had no sure guide by which to sail. The extremely bad weather of the night before had produced these derangements of the buoys.
Before we got up to Calcutta we let go the spare anchor; but a bore of the tide, a peculiar swell of water in this bay, took hold of the ship after all sail was set to get under way, and we were obliged to cut away from our last anchor to avoid a still greater misfortune. Thus we lost four anchors, averaging 4500 pounds each, parted and cut four cables, the smallest 19½ inches [circumference], sprung our bowsprit, and experienced other damages, the whole of which could not be repaired in Calcutta for less than 10,000 dollars.
A bore of the tide is a large wave, with a white head, which is seen and heard at a considerable distance. Three of them make a full sea. The first one, as a general fact comes at about two hours of the flood tide; then calm for another two hours, when the second and third come. The longer it keeps off, the more violent is its approach, and the more destructive is its course. It is greatly dreaded by seamen who are not well prepared to sustain the shock which it gives."
There were other annoyances, but eventually the Hector was brought to a safe anchorage in the harbor of Calcutta, and Amasa and his partner Stewart went ashore for a look-in on the American consul. They had written him before sailing from Bombay, in the hope that he would have a freight ready for the Hector when she arrived in Calcutta. He was a Benjamin Joy and was disposed to be helpful; but, like many other American consuls of that day, he was also engaged in commerce, and at this time he was acting as agent for a ship already in Calcutta and for another one on the way. Amasa agreed that in all justice Joy should of course look after his owners' ships first.
The English Port in Calcutta
Dunlap had come overland from Bombay and was in Calcutta when the Hector arrived. He was present at the conference with the consul. Coming away from that discouraging meeting he informed Amasa and Stewart that, if they could not soon meet their debt to him, he would take over the ship.
There was a prospect! And to add to their gloom, the news arrived that the American Congress was considering the laying of an embargo on all foreign commerce. Soon after that came the news that England and France were actively at war.
The Hector was a grand ship, and Dunlap now went all out to secure ownership of her. He demanded immediate payment for the money advanced, or satisfactory security for it. Amasa and Stewart could give him neither. American captains in port had been in severe competition for foreign commerce, and here was the threatened home embargo to prevent their getting cargoes for their own country.
There was Dunlap bearing down for settlement of his claim; and there was the prospect of having to sell the Hector in the Calcutta market for nothing like her value. Dunlap was relentless, and the Hector went on the auction block. Dunlap himself bought her in, as he expected, for a price below the amount of his claim. He demanded the difference, and when Amasa and Stewart did not satisfy him he brought suit against them.
The suit, if they lost--and they would probably lose it-meant being tossed in jail. They did not relish the prospect. So what now?
There was no law of extradition then, and the near-by Danish settlement of Serampore was a great refuge for poor debtors in Calcutta. Amasa and Stewart skipped to Serampore until the legal storm blew itself out.
Marking time in Danish Serampore afforded Amasa leisure to mull over what he had observed of life in India. Holland, Portugal, and France had holdings in India, but the big holding was England's; and the East India market was pretty much in English hands. Amasa knew of English and Dutch captains spending twenty thousand dollars on a cargo for the trade, and sailing back home with cargoes that brought as high as half a million dollars in the markets of the Western world.
The China trade was of immense value to English merchants and ship owners, as was the sugar, coffee, and spice trade of the South Sea Islands to the Dutch; but India was the country of the really big profits for the English. Vast fortunes were being made and taken home by Englishmen after only a few years' residence in India. Even the underlings in the governmental service were making fortunes.
Amasa was especially interested in the most favored of all ships in the maritime commerce of his day or of any day. These were the ships of the English East India Company. He had seen them with their high shining sides and bristling tiers of guns in Canton, Macao, and Bombay. And now in Calcutta. He never boarded one without marveling at her great tonnage, her teakwood decks, scrubbed daily like a man-o'-war's, and her uniformed band standing by night or day for the captain's pleasure. And as for crews--they carried enough men to man three ships of their tonnage, big as they were.
Dull sailers all they were, but the liberal pay and trading privileges made their captains forget that. And the deck-loads of clerks in the company's offices ashore! And the salaries paid top officers! Fabulous salaries! And the allowances for quarters and armies of servants! Only enormous profits could withstand the drain.
"And where from those profits?" visiting American captains would ask. Amasa was one of those inquisitive captains:
"It is the exclusive privilege of the English East India Company to send vessels this side [east] of the Cape of Good Hope. The cargoes of these ships are far more valuable than outsiders are led to suppose. I have known ships to take each from Canton four or five lacs of dollars in a season [a lac was one hundred thousand Spanish dollars], and there would be thirty or forty of such ships in a season."
From its first charter in 1600, the English East India Company (EIC) operated one of the most extensive shipping operations in support of its trading enterprises during the colonial period. The merchant or mercantile fleet was responsible for carrying cargoes outward to the east, returning richly laden with exotic goods which found a ready (and profitable) market in Europe. The people who commanded these ships were career men who often spent a lifetime in the service of the Company. Voyages to the east were lengthy and uncertain, but the rewards were good, as captain and officers were allowed, in addition to their wages, to ship goods on their own account as "private trade".
The English East India Company established a monopoly of trade to the east, which was strictly enforced, and no other ships could trade there. In 1834 this monopoly was broken, and the Mercantile Service was disbanded, although the EIC continued to administer its territories in Asia for many more years.
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Amasa had to admit that the English East India Company taught American captains some smarter ways of trading. The English company taught them to do away with having to carry three or four or five hundred Spanish silver dollars under their cabins when leaving for the eastern trade. The East India Company inaugurated the practice of giving drafts in exchange for goods, drafts on banks or reliable mercantile houses in other eastern ports, or on London if a captain was bound for European or American ports.
British army or East India officers did not usually remain in India any longer than they were compelled to serve, nor the merchants longer than to amass a fortune; but while there they certainly went in for ease and comfort. From Amasa in Serampore:
"The English in high place dwell in houses which are extremely elegant and resemble palaces. They are built of brick and covered with a kind of cement, that admits of a fine polish. The apartments are spacious, and so arranged that nothing shall obstruct the circulation of air and the attainments of comfort. The wealth of England in India is immense. They regulate the trade of the country as they please."
The natives of India under the English rule were not held in bodily slavery, as were so many of the island Malays by the Dutch; but the daily wage for a laborer in India would hardly keep a Negro slave in America in hog and hominy.
"And the natives lived in streets narrow and crooked, the houses low, small and ill-contrived. They have commonly but one story, and many are built of bamboo and covered with thatch.
The citadel of Fort William begun by Lord Clive in 1757 is an extraordinary fortress, extensive and imposing. In case of need, the ditch can be filled eight feet deep with water from the river. The barracks are cannon proof and can accommodate 10,000 men. The works could mount 600 guns, and I am told that 100,000 stands of small arms are commonly kept fit for use."
Consul Joy, fellow citizen of good will, eventually went all out for Amasa. He explained to Dunlap that if Captain Delano and his partner wished to resort to subterfuge--and could Mr. Dunlap blame them if they did? --They could keep his suit before the court until the ship would be rotted at her anchorage and of such small value in the market that Mr. Dunlap would hardly realize the interest on his loan, let be any sum worth considering.
Mr. Dunlap listened to reason and settled for an amount that left the two partners with just about cash enough to pay their personal debts.
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