Pincer-Toes Being the Original of the "D. M. Foster": Schooner Days CXC (190)

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ONE of the sweetest vessels that ever swam was the D. M. Foster, which Sylvester Brothers here in Toronto owned outright, or in partnership with Capt. Caleb Giles. That would be fifty years ago or more. The reproduction of the painting of the D. M. Foster as a lake "barque" (really a barquentine) does not do justice to her beauty. The photograph of her at Sylvesters' wharf at the foot of Church street, when she had been converted to a three-masted schooner, shows the graceful sheer, which was always her characteristic, although the picturesque sails of the square rig are no longer discernible. The D. M. Foster was a brigantine originally, with one mast square-rigged and the other fore-and-aft. Then she shipped a mizzen and became a barquentine, and still later a three-masted schooner. She made voyages as far east as the Atlantic coast, and ended by going ashore at Oswego with a lumber cargo, Dec. 1st, 1882. She struck the breakwater, going in, in a heavy sea. Twice the tug got a line on her, but she parted it, for she was unmanageable in the sea that was running. She was a total wreck.

On the coast they always call vessels by their full name, initials and all. On the lakes sailors almost invariably used the surname, or the last of it, only. Thus the Sir Christopher Theodore Van Straubenzee was the Straubenzee in the mouths of most sailors, and the Benzy in the mouths of some. (We always preserved the "the," unlike yachtsmen and navy men.)

But the D. M. Foster was an exception. She was universally known as the D. M. To sailors D. M. meant only two words. You know what the first initial stood for as well as I do, and the other was Mean. Not that the Foster was a hungry ship, or that her owners were niggardly. The Sylvesters were always good providers. Lake sailors attached only one meaning to "mean." Hard to steer. In spite of her good looks the D. M. Foster was a D. M. handful for the man at the wheel in rough weather. Perhaps her original spar plan had been changed so that it threw the centre of effort of her sails out of gear with the centres of buoyancy and stability and lateral resistance, but, whatever the reason, she had an ugly habit of turning around to look at the poor beggars grinding away on the wheel-spokes. In fact, they claimed that she was trying to do so when she ran into the pier and broke her neck.

For all that she was a good vessel, and made long and successful voyages. One noteworthy one was from Toronto to Halifax, with 400 tons of grain for Howland and Co., sailing May 6th, 1871, in company with a little argosy—the H. M. Todman. Heather Belle, Orion, and Magdala—which loaded here for Pictou, Halifax and St. John's, Newfoundland.

This vessel was named after Capt. David Foster, of Port Burwell, who built her there in 1863.

"Capt. Foster," writes T. H. Mason, "was the pioneer of the Port Burwell industry as a regular business. He was a practical shipbuilder and a practical sailor. He was his own master builder; he built his ship, sailed her until he had a good chance to sell at a profit, came back home, built another, and repeated the process.

"Some of his vessels were the D. M. Foster, Annie Foster, Fellowcraft, the Craftsman, Two Friends and Two Brothers." The Annie Foster's picture appeared recently in a Schooner Days' view of the Owen Sound waterfront.

"Capt. Foster was a born leader of men, and a great practical joker. On board ship in warm weather he always went barefoot, and he had prehensile toes with which he could grip and pinch as hard as any monkey.

"Whenever he shipped a new hand he made it a point to have some fun; and the standard jest was this: Captain and crew dined together in the cabin, following the usual custom of lake schooners. As the meal progressed someone made it a point to tell how bold the rats were getting on that ship. And later Capt. Foster, reaching under the table with his foot, would give the newcomer a pinch with his toes—at which, of course, the new man would jump and yell that he was bitten by a rat . . .

"One winter day in a hotel at Port Burwell a local 'character', chiefly noted for an immense beard, strayed in and attracted Foster's notice. Foster was wonderfully interested; complimented him; had never seen such a luxuriant crop. What would it weigh? What was its length, its breadth, its thickness? Finally, what would he take for it?

"The 'character', flattered by the great man's interest, named his price; the bargain was struck. Foster began to cut off the beard. Half way through, he stopped suddenly, and said, 'I'll take the rest next week'.

"After the collapse of the shipping boom, Capt. Foster ran a pleasure steamer on the Thames at London (Ontario) and later went to Northern Michigan."

The D. M. FOSTER in barquentine rig from an old painting in the possession of the Sylvester family in Toronto. It was made about 1874, when Caleb Giles was part owner of the vessel.

SYLVESTER'S WHARF, at the foot of Church street, sixty years ago, with the D. M. Foster lying on the east side of the slip, and the tug Frank Jackman, or a predecessor, lying ahead of her.

FELLOWCRAFT OF ST. CATHARINES, another of D. M. Foster's barquentines.