Two Years in a Big Upper Laker: Horseboy Happenings—I.: Schooner Days DCCXXIX (729)

by C. H. J. Snider

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STANLEY BABY sprang an agreeable surprise on the Shellbacks Club at weekly luncheon meeting, when his scheduled story, "The Log of the Carlingford," turned out, not the stilted chronology of a ship's voyage, but a chapter from the eventful life story of Stanley's father, James W. Baby.

In the navigation season of 1871 James Baby was horse boy in the Port Dalhousie timber drogher "Albatross," with a tough crew in a tough trade at meagre wages. His life, like that of many other horse boys, was a series of kicks, cuffs, curses and overwork.

Besides being everybody's drudge on board, he had to care for and drive the team of horses that powered her timber-loading capstan and helped haul her through the second Welland Canal.

Fancy, then what it meant to young Jim Baby in his second season of Great Lakes faring to get a berth in the big, smart schooner Carlingford. A Chicago grain fleet queen, she was one of the staunchest, fastest, best found and best manned vessels on the lakes and commanded by a seaman and a gentleman.

CARGO OF STEEL

The Carlingford wintered in Sarnia Bay, fitted out there in the spring of '72 and sailed for Chicago laden with steel rails. Out in Lake Huron the wind was northerly and freshening, and the schooner sailed into it close hauled and swinging all muslin except her fly-by-nights. It was "by the wind and no luffing. Watch your wheel and keep her full," and the Carlingford's crew enjoyed it very much.

By dusk it was blowing hard and still freshening. The old man, Captain Carson, called an order to get the gaff tops'ls off her, an' jib tops' an' flyin' jib." The mate passed the order to the crew and they in turn repeated it as they hustled to stations.

"Clew up an' trip," he said. "Leggo jib halliards, lay on the downhauls." It was a fast order, smartly executed. "Lay aloft there, kid, and get a gasket on that gaff tops'l," a sailor ordered young Baby, who hesitated because the mate had just ordered him to "stay on deck; you're too light to stow tops'ls in this breeze."

HEAVED INTO RIGGING

The sailor caught the boy by the scuff of the neck and the seat of his pants and hove him bodily into the rigging. "Lay aloft," he shouted. The mate intervened tersely. "I told him to stay on deck." The sailor grinned as he scrambled into the rigging. "Right y'are. Watch how a he man does it."

It was any kind of cargo up bound and always grain on the down trip. A lady spiritualist at Port Huron had foreseen and predicted disaster for three lake vessels together, and her description of one of them fitted the Carlingford exactly. But the disaster caught up with three others at Duluth and did them comparatively little damage. The Carlingford was all right.

Toward the end of the season, laden with cut stone, she did ride out a norther off Chicago piers with all ground tackle out and seas piling over the piers astern, fathoms deep, but was not injured.

POLICEMAN GOT HIS

She laid up at Manitowoc that fall and James Baby rejoined her next spring at Cleveland. While at Buffalo later in the season the boy went ashore with a quiet-going sailor from Prince Edward Island.

After a stroll around town the two started back to their ship. Crossing a canal bridge the sailor peered closely at a policeman who was idly watching the dirty canal. "Well," he said in his usual quiet way, "I've found you at last." Therewith he proceeded to beat up the policeman.

When the officer was beaten bloody, the sailor said "come on lad," and he and young Baby returned to the Carlingford. Here shipmates, after a brief explanation, hid the sailor under a litter of dunnage.

Buffalo police later searched the vessel, but did not find him. He didn't re-appear until the vessel had left Buffalo and was well out on Lake Erie, He drew his wages and quit at Chicago and no more was heard of him.

Months later a shipmate confided to Jim Baby that the policemen "ran away with the guy's wife, two or three years ago."

James Baby spent two seasons in the Carlingford and planned to spend more, but a change of masters altered his plans and his manner of lake faring. His next venture was in tugs and later he forsook canvas altogether and "went in steam."

SARNIA BAY IN THE 1870's WHEN JIMMY BABY JOINED THE CARLINGFORD

GRANDPA'S STORY

CAPT. JAMES W. BABY tells of his graduation from horseboydom.

A reproduction from a painting of the Nellie Redington, Upper Lakes schooner similar to the Carlingford.