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two thick; red…necked fellows of the semi…nautical type at the



Fenchurch Street Railway…station; where; in those days; the



everyday male crowd was attired in jerseys and pilot…cloth mostly;



and had the air of being more conversant with the times of high…



water than with the times of the trains。  I had noticed that new



ship's name on the first page of my morning paper。  I had stared at



the unfamiliar grouping of its letters; blue on white ground; on



the advertisement…boards; whenever the train came to a standstill



alongside one of the shabby; wooden; wharf…like platforms of the



dock railway…line。  She had been named; with proper observances; on



the day she came off the stocks; no doubt; but she was very far yet



from 〃having a name。〃  Untried; ignorant of the ways of the sea;



she had been thrust amongst that renowned company of ships to load



for her maiden voyage。  There was nothing to vouch for her



soundness and the worth of her character; but the reputation of the



building…yard whence she was launched headlong into the world of



waters。  She looked modest to me。  I imagined her diffident; lying



very quiet; with her side nestling shyly against the wharf to which



she was made fast with very new lines; intimidated by the company



of her tried and experienced sisters already familiar with all the



violences of the ocean and the exacting love of men。  They had had



more long voyages to make their names in than she had known weeks



of carefully tended life; for a new ship receives as much attention



as if she were a young bride。  Even crabbed old dock…masters look



at her with benevolent eyes。  In her shyness at the threshold of a



laborious and uncertain life; where so much is expected of a ship;



she could not have been better heartened and comforted; had she



only been able to hear and understand; than by the tone of deep



conviction in which my elderly; respectable seaman repeated the



first part of his saying; 〃Ships are all right 。 。 。〃







His civility prevented him from repeating the other; the bitter



part。  It had occurred to him that it was perhaps indelicate to



insist。  He had recognised in me a ship's officer; very possibly



looking for a berth like himself; and so far a comrade; but still a



man belonging to that sparsely…peopled after…end of a ship; where a



great part of her reputation as a 〃good ship;〃 in seaman's



parlance; is made or marred。







〃Can you say that of all ships without exception?〃 I asked; being



in an idle mood; because; if an obvious ship's officer; I was not;



as a matter of fact; down at the docks to 〃look for a berth;〃 an



occupation as engrossing as gambling; and as little favourable to



the free exchange of ideas; besides being destructive of the kindly



temper needed for casual intercourse with one's fellow…creatures。







〃You can always put up with 'em;〃 opined the respectable seaman



judicially。







He was not averse from talking; either。  If he had come down to the



dock to look for a berth; he did not seem oppressed by anxiety as



to his chances。  He had the serenity of a man whose estimable



character is fortunately expressed by his personal appearance in an



unobtrusive; yet convincing; manner which no chief officer in want



of hands could resist。  And; true enough; I learned presently that



the mate of the Hyperion had 〃taken down〃 his name for quarter…



master。  〃We sign on Friday; and join next day for the morning



tide;〃 he remarked; in a deliberate; careless tone; which



contrasted strongly with his evident readiness to stand there



yarning for an hour or so with an utter stranger。







〃Hyperion;〃 I said。  〃I don't remember ever seeing that ship



anywhere。  What sort of a name has she got?〃







It appeared from his discursive answer that she had not much of a



name one way or another。  She was not very fast。  It took no fool;



though; to steer her straight; he believed。  Some years ago he had



seen her in Calcutta; and he remembered being told by somebody



then; that on her passage up the river she had carried away both



her hawse…pipes。  But that might have been the pilot's fault。  Just



now; yarning with the apprentices on board; he had heard that this



very voyage; brought up in the Downs; outward bound; she broke her



sheer; struck adrift; and lost an anchor and chain。  But that might



have occurred through want of careful tending in a tideway。  All



the same; this looked as though she were pretty hard on her ground…



tackle。  Didn't it?  She seemed a heavy ship to handle; anyway。



For the rest; as she had a new captain and a new mate this voyage;



he understood; one couldn't say how she would turn out。 。 。 。







In such marine shore…talk as this is the name of a ship slowly



established; her fame made for her; the tale of her qualities and



of her defects kept; her idiosyncrasies commented upon with the



zest of personal gossip; her achievements made much of; her faults



glossed over as things that; being without remedy in our imperfect



world; should not be dwelt upon too much by men who; with the help



of ships; wrest out a bitter living from the rough grasp of the



sea。  All that talk makes up her 〃name;〃 which is handed over from



one crew to another without bitterness; without animosity; with the



indulgence of mutual dependence; and with the feeling of close



association in the exercise of her perfections and in the danger of



her defects。







This feeling explains men's pride in ships。  〃Ships are all right;〃



as my middle…aged; respectable quartermaster said with much



conviction and some irony; but they are not exactly what men make



them。  They have their own nature; they can of themselves minister



to our self…esteem by the demand their qualities make upon our



skill and their shortcomings upon our hardiness and endurance。



Which is the more flattering exaction it is hard to say; but there



is the fact that in listening for upwards of twenty years to the



sea…talk that goes on afloat and ashore I have never detected the



true note of animosity。  I won't deny that at sea; sometimes; the



note of profanity was audible enough in those chiding



interpellations a wet; cold; weary seaman addresses to his ship;



and in moments of exasperation is disposed to extend to all ships



that ever were launched … to the whole everlastingly exacting brood



that swims in deep waters。  And I have heard curses launched at the



unstable element itself; whose fascination; outlasting the



accumulated experience of ages; had captured him as it had captured



the generations of his forebears。







For all that has been said of the love that certain natures (on



shore) have professed to feel for it; for all the celebrations it



had been the object of in prose and song; the sea has never been



friendly to man。  At most it has been the accomplice of human



restlessness; and playing the part of dangerous abettor of world…



wide ambitions。  Faithful to no race after the manner of the kindly



earth; receiving no impress from valour and toil and self…



sacrifice; recognising no finality of dominion; the sea has never



adopted the cause of its masters like those lands where the



victorious nations of mankind have taken root; rocking their



cradles and setting up their gravestones。  He … man or people …



who; putting his trust in the friendship of the sea; neglects the



strength and cunning of his right hand; is a fool!  As if it were



too great; too mighty for common virtues; the ocean has no



compassion; no faith; no law; no memory。  Its fickleness is to be



held true to men's purposes only by an undaunted resolution and by



a sleepless; armed; jealous vigilance; in which; perhaps; there has



always been more hate than love。  ODI ET AMO may well be the



confession of those who consciously or blindly have surrendered



their existence to the fascination of the sea。  All the tempestuous



passions of mankind's young days; the love of loot and the love of



glory; the love of adventure and the love of danger; with the great



love of the unknown and vast dreams of dominion and power; have



passed like images reflected from a mirror; leaving no record upon



the mysterious face of the sea。  Impenetrable and heartless; the



sea has given nothing of itself to the suitors for its precarious



favours。  Unlike the earth; it cannot be subjugated at any cost of



patience and toil。  For all its fascination that has lured so many



to a violent death; its immensity has never been loved as the



mountains; the plains; the desert itself; have been loved。  Indeed;



I suspect that; leaving aside the protestations and tributes of



writers who; one is safe in saying; care for little else in the



world than the rhythm of their lines and the cadence of their



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