Once, while keeping watch, he gave a warning to a junior officer to avoid a snag, only to end up with both himself and the other officer goggling at it like mad.

Nor were these the only bizarre episodes in his career. Six of Rostron's ships were sunk in the war-right after he had left them. In another incident that would likely be swept under the rug today, a set of Chinese laborers went on a ramage of looting and had to be quelled with rugby teamwork.ĭuring World War I, Rostron transported over one hundred thousand troops, and he witnessed the bungled assault on Gallipoli. In its early days, Cunard would run up bills of thousands of dollars in damages just to save a few hours, and only dropped the habit when it became too costly.Īnother other eyebrow-raising episode in the author's book was the time the ship's carpenter overfilled the forward tank with seawater which sent it washing about, causing a panic among two thousand passengers who did everything from climbing the rigging to filling the lifeboats. He was rather shocked to discover Cunard's insistence on speed at all costs. He felt that steamships weren't proper vessels if they lacked sails, but he was seduced by heated cabins and regular meals. Rostron witnessed fights in the rigging, and was once punched by an angry seaman hard enough to send him staggering back thirty feet, but the seaman lost when Rostron got serious with his fists.Īfter a few years, Rostron reluctantly went to work for Cunard. Rostron had to face an impromptu court of inquiry from the group and had to threaten them right back to save himself.

On another voyage, there had been a miscalculation in ordering food, and all the author had to eat for weeks were loaves made of cracked wheat, brick-hard once they cooled.Īnother time, as Roston's ship was sailing around a harbor with a party of drunken ships' captains on board, and one of them nearly drove the vessel aground, only being stopped when Rostron dropped anchor. Twice he fell, once from the rigging and another down a hatch, landing on his back both times, but he managed to avoid permanent injury. Rostron says his first voyage was three months of horror, fighting ice-hardened sails in storms while soaked with rain, snow, or sleet until his fingernails were torn off and his hands were left raw and bleeding. His memoir is filled with plenty of good anecdotes from his career, which started in 1887 when the author was a cadet on a clipper. Home From The Sea by Arthur Rostron is a book every sailing buff should know.

Home from the Sea by Arthur Rostron