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CHAMBERS’S JOURNAL
OF
POPULAR
LITERATURE, SCIENCE, AND ART
CONTENTS
SIGNALLING AT SEA.
IN ALL SHADES.
THE LAND OF FURS.
A GOLDEN ARGOSY.
‘IN AT THE DEATH.’
OCCASIONAL NOTES.
BONNIE DRYFE.
No. 107.—Vol. III.
Price 1½d.
SATURDAY, JANUARY 16, 1886.
SIGNALLING AT SEA.
The wonderful improvements which have beeneffected in modes of communication during thelatter part of the present century have resultedin bridging over space, and bringing the dwellerson this planet into closer and more constantintercommunion. Submarine cables, telegraphs,and telephones have each contributed their aidtowards the realisation of Puck’s idea of putting‘a girdle round the earth;’ and, as might havebeen expected, the inventive faculty has beendirected, in some measure at least, towardsenabling those ‘who go down to the sea inships’ to communicate with each other on theocean highways with such facility as might befound practicable under the ever-varying conditionswhich obtain at sea.
At no very remote date, the appliances at thecommand of a shipmaster who might desire toconvey a request to a passing vessel consistedmainly of a pair of strong lungs and a speaking-trumpet.A variation was occasionally attemptedby the introduction of a plank and a lump ofchalk. The writer remembers having seen anEnglish brig in the South Atlantic, during astrong gale, attempting to convey to a statelyfrigate an intimation that the brig’s chronometerwas broken, and that, in consequence, her worthycaptain was at sea, in more senses than one.The brig, which had been running before thewind, braced up on the port tack, and ran asclose under the frigate’s stern as was deemedprudent under the circumstances. The captain,clinging to the weather main rigging with onehand, and using the other as a speaking-trumpet,yelled forth a sentence or two which met thefate of most utterances under similar conditions.‘I’—‘of’—and ‘the’ were faithfully re-echoedfrom the hollow of the frigate’s mainsail,but the vital words of the message were borneaway on the wings of the gale. A similar attemptfailed; and finally it occurred to the skipper towrite with chalk upon a tarpaulin hatch-coverthe words, ‘Chronometer smashed, bound TableBay.’ The tarpaulin with the foregoing legendwas exhibited over the side for a few brief seconds,till a fiercer blast than usual whirled it high inair, and then bore it away to leeward. Fortunately,the purport of the writing had been understoodon board the frigate,