42 
FOREST AND STREAM. 
[Jan. 13, 1912. 
that every bit of rigging has a certain lead, 
place and name, and it is explained that these 
ropes, except in minor details, are the same in 
all ships. Some always leading to the sides 
(bulwarks) of a vessel, others always down the 
mast, and all fastened in a certain order. And 
when one stops to consider that every bit of 
rigging has centuries of evolution back of it, 
the wonderful system of a ship’s rigging can 
be understood, but we must pause in the passing 
and take of? our hats to the builders and riggers 
who have finally evolved the splendid sailing 
ship of to-day, and then think of the heroes 
who have manned them through stress, storm 
and strife. 
With her wings in position, close hauled to 
catch the light westerly wind, the bark’s head 
was pointed to the south. There was wind 
enough, as the mate expressed it, to “lay off the 
rocky coast.’’ And daylight faded on the sight, 
with the last glimmer of sunlight playing upon 
the hillside to the northeast of the Golden 
Gate, while to the northwest was the shadowy 
outline of the Farallon Islands and before us 
was the broad peaceful Pacific. 
Latitude, 37° 48' north; longitude, 122° 27' 
west. Honolulu 2,100 miles away. 
July 24, 1911; wind west; course, south, 3(1° west. 
With an overcast sky and wind that was 
driving her along at five miles per hour, the 
bark was still close hauled in the morning, and 
a few lines will not be amiss telling what the 
bark herself actually is. The certificate of in¬ 
spection stated that the Andrew Welch was a 
passenger sail vessel of 903 gross tons, built in 
1888 for the Hawaiian trade by Russell and 
Company, Port Glasgow and Greenock, Scot¬ 
land. She was named after Andrew Welch, 
founder of the firm of Welch and Company, 
ship owners, San Francisco and New York, 
formerly the Planters’ Line of the Hawaiian 
Islands. When the islands became a part of 
the American Ufiion, the Welch changed her 
flag to the Stars and Stripes. 
The Welch is a vessel that reflects great 
credit on her builders, for though she has sailed 
the seas for twenty-three years, she is con¬ 
sidered as staunch as ever and good for another 
quarter century. Her hull, lower masts and 
lower yards are of iron; the upper yards and 
masts and decks of pitch pine. Her railings, 
wheel-box and skylights are of India teak, orna¬ 
mented with polished brass. Her cabin is 
finished in teak and birdseye maple, making a 
most attractive living room. Her staterooms, 
compared with modern trans-Atlantic liners, 
are roomy and comfortable, and the builders 
had evidently thought of every detail to make 
the bark complete in nautical equipment, even 
to brass-bound fire buckets on deck and sea¬ 
sick basins in the passengers’ cabin. With her 
trim appearance as a whole, her beautiful wood¬ 
work and fine brass work, she was forever 
pleasing to the eye, even in periods of seasick¬ 
ness. With a length of 178 feet, a beam of 36 
feet, a draft of 18 feet and a sail spread con¬ 
sisting of eighteen wings, different sizes and 
shapes, she could be driven as fast as ten miles 
per hour. Her cargo consisted of molding 
sand, hay, barley, feeds, canned goods and mis¬ 
cellaneous material, while she also carried a 
deck load of gasolene contained in iron drums, 
and redwood ties, shingles and rails. 
The Welch having been built specially for the 
Hawaiian-San Francisco trade, originally hailed 
from Honolulu, and on her first appearance in 
the islands, twenty-three years ago, was con¬ 
sidered too large for this trade, which trade has 
since grown to such proportions that the Welch 
has become a small factor, steamships of about 
10,000 tons displacement now carrying most of 
the merchandise. The present owner of the 
Welch, the Matson Navigation Company, of 
San Francisco, at one time had nineteen barks 
in the island freight and passenger business, but 
now have only two sailing vessels carrying 
passengers, which vessels cater to the smaller 
merchants of Honolulu and to the sea loving 
passenger traffic—travelers who do not,care to 
rush down to the islands in a palatial steamer, 
but who desire to get a real taste of a salt air 
voyage which can only be had in a vessel whose 
motive power is the power of the wind, not the 
power of man as exemplified in his mechanical 
steam engine. 
It is a gratification to know that the Matson 
Navigation Company still retains sail craft 
which can be used by travelers who love the sea. 
Latitude 36° 12' north; longitude 124° 12' 
west. Day’s run 128 miles. Honolulu 1,940 
miles away. 
July 25, 1911; wind, west-northwest; course, south, 36“ 
west. 
Nearly the same course, same wind, same 
sky greeted the passengers this morning—a 
blanket of cloud over the encircling horizon and 
wind rather light. We had now become pretty 
well acquainted with the men who were manning 
the ship and realized again how different na¬ 
tionalities are brought together in a house of 
the seas. 
The captain, Edward Winfield Kelly, was a 
gentleman from India, and was known as the 
“Dandy Skipper,” not from the cut of his 
clothes, but for his uniform politeness, kind¬ 
ness and thoughtfulness to and for his passen¬ 
gers and crew. Born at Bankipose, Patna, 
India, of Irish parents, he had been educated in 
England and began his sea career as cabin boy 
on a steamer, then served on the tea clippers, 
and after going through the usual round of 
mate’s duties on all kinds of vessels, finally 
came to the Pacific Coast and became master 
of the George Curtis, the Mohegan, and then 
the Andrew Welch. He is a man who is in¬ 
terested in all sorts of subjects and topics be¬ 
sides those that relate to the sea, and therefore 
was very entertaining and companionable to the 
passengers. 
The first mate, A. G. Page, hailed from the 
region of America where sailors are raised, viz., 
the State of Maine, and he looked every inch 
his part. He had climbed all of the rungs of 
the ladder from the forecastle to the cabin, even 
having been master of vessels. This gave the 
passengers double assurance to know that there 
were two skippers aboard. When, in giving his 
orders about the deck, the mate wore his cordu¬ 
roy breeches, his high-top over-lapped boots 
and stern countenance, he resembled the old- 
time pictures of a buccaneer. 
The second mate, James Lynch, was another 
real sailor of the kind pictured in story books. 
In contradiction to the husky, heavy-built first 
mate, he was small in stature and had all of the 
activity that goes with small people. Every¬ 
where and anywhere about the decks, seeing 
that duty was done, and when off duty relating 
the experiences of forty-five years afloat on 
every kind of a craft that steams or sails the 
oceans or the Great Lakes. Thrice he had been 
shipwrecked and would tell the tales with a 
merry twinkle in his sea blue eyes, taking 
these adventures as part of the game in follow¬ 
ing the sea. He was a native of Pennsylvania. 
The ship’s carpenter, or as he is known 
among seamen, “Chips,” Peter Hansen, of 
Sweden, was the next man of importance 
aboard, for he kept the ship in repair, ran the 
donkey engine, looked after the lights and oiled 
the blocks and running gear; in fact, was the 
Jack-of-all-trades generally, being able to do 
any one of the thousand and one jobs which 
come up aboard ship. 
The cook was R. Watanave, from Japan. The 
old saying, one can live without books but not 
