140 
FOREST AND STREAM 
Feb. 3, 1912 
forecastle, and the other half of the crew came 
ambling out to aid the watch on duty in furiing 
the remaining sails, and again the passengers 
had the treat of watching the sailors haul the 
ropes and see them go into the rigging and tie 
up the canvas wings. The number of seamen 
on the yards decreased as the he'ght increased, 
but one or two men being sent to the highe.st 
yards. With it all there was plenty of action 
a’oft and on deck. 
It was with regret that we watched the canvas 
disappear, leaving the bare spars, for though by 
this time everyone was ready to .step ashore, yet 
the voyage had been such a pleasant one and so 
free from storms or maneuvers that we had 
even hoped some shift of wind or gale would 
make it necessary to put the ship about before 
she made harbor so early. Not a tack had been 
made all the way down. The only zig-zagging 
of any kind was when the ship was worn around 
a few times in the day of ca’ms. The voyage 
was closing, therefore, without the sight of that 
interesting maneuver of a square rigger—tacking 
ship, viz., the swinging around of her head and 
putting the weight of the wind on the other 
side of the vessel. 
As the bark was stripped of her wings, the 
tug Intrepid circled alongside and the com¬ 
mander asked the skipper about his health and 
weather in the run down. It was the first out¬ 
side voice we had heard in nineteen days, and 
then we began to think that according to super¬ 
stition we were lucky to have ever heard any 
voice from the outside world, for the Welch 
had sailed on the 23d day of the month with 
twenty-three persons and had arrived on a Fri¬ 
day. If good fortune and fair winds had not 
followed us all the way down, it would of course, 
according to nautical and landable tradition been 
due to the unlucky numbers and the fatal day of 
the week. But >vhen the tug threw her line and 
the good bark Andrew Welch followed in the 
wake of steam power, we knew that as in all 
things it is not luck that runs successfully ships 
or railroads, but judgment, energy and ability, 
and thanks to the able seamanship of the officers 
and crew of the Andrew Welch the bark could 
soon tie up to the wharf at Honolulu. 
When within view of the harbor entrance the 
port doctor boarded us and found no sickness 
of any kind; then Uncle Sam’s customs men 
swarmed over the side, but discovered no opium 
or any other contraband goods, therefore the 
ship proceeded on her way to Honolulu with its 
pa’ms, gardens, surf and surrounding mountains, 
and with the running ashore of the gang plank 
there ended the bark’s voyage in the “finest 
sailing run in the world”—from San Francisco 
to the territory of Hawaii—the paradise of the 
Pacific. 
Latitude, 21° 18' north; longitude, 157° 51' 
west. Day’s run, 75 miles. 
A Model Clipper. 
Some maritime men have suggested that be¬ 
fore square-rigged sailing vessels are entirely 
driven from the seas, that a replica of the fam¬ 
ous clipper ships should be built and preserved 
as a museum—an example of the sail, transpor¬ 
tation of the nineteenth century. New York city 
has models of the Half Moon, representing a 
typical seventeenth century sail craft, and of 
the Clermont, portraying the first steam vessel, 
and why not complete the series by building a 
model of a clipper. Contrary to her predecessors 
in historical representation she need not neces¬ 
sarily be only a museum replica. What would be 
more fitting and useful to the piaritime com¬ 
munity than that the model clipper be put in 
service during the summer months on voyages 
across the Atlantic, carrying passengers who de¬ 
sire real sea trips for health and happiness. 
By co-operation with the city government or 
the steamship companies, the clipper might be 
made a part of the boys’ nautical training school 
system and be partly manned by juvenile jack 
tars. At any rate, there would seem to be enough 
sea-loving travelers in the land who would patro¬ 
nize a square-rigger trip across the Atlantic, and 
also enough “slow freight” available to pay a part 
of the expense of maintaining such a craft. Cap¬ 
tain Arthur H. Clarke, in his admirable book, 
entitled, “The Clipper Ship Era,” has drawn a 
thrilling pen picture of the glories of sailing in 
the 50’s. Cannot the lovers of sails of to-day 
have the opportunity of crossing the ocean in 
one of these “Flying Clouds” that would make 
a voyage over the sea a delightful memory of a 
life time? Passenger sailing ships, as instanced, 
are still running very successfully on the Pacific; 
in fact, have a waiting list, slow sailers as they 
are. Why not have a few swift sail clippers on 
the Atlantic? 
[the end.] 
On Manuscripts. 
There are poachers in every field of en¬ 
deavor, and the literary field is not without its 
scamps. Now and then an editor is imposed 
on by an unprincipled person who yearns for 
the glory of seeing his name in print. Know¬ 
ing his shortcomings, he purloins his story and 
submits it as an original contribution. One 
such “writer” sent a stolen article to Forest 
AND Stream several years ago, was told in 
plain English that the facts were known, but 
despite this he submits copy now and then, and 
this is invariably returned to him. 
Another so-called nature writer whose travels 
have probably averaged three miles per day for 
a number of years, writes of “journeys” far and 
near, and illustrates his day dreams with clever 
faked photographs. 
A manuscript came to our desk in the usual 
way. It was a good story but aroused sus¬ 
picion. The writer lives in an interior town, 
and both his note and the manuscript were 
written with pen in an indifferent style, yet he 
told of photographing lions in Africa. A well- 
known African book was opened, and beginning 
at the second paragraph, he had copied ver¬ 
batim all of one chapter. 
Among honest writers the editor’s word 
in returning a manuscript is usually regarded as 
final, but there are exceptions, and one of these 
is sufficiently amusing to print. It comes from 
the Northwest. We quote parts: 
Editor Forest and Stream: 
Yours under date of Oct. 27, returning the 
mss. “-” is disgustedly received. 
What gits me is ware ye sez: “These stories 
are full of interesting matter, and we enjoyed 
in particular your description of the storm. 
* * * ” Wimmen ain’t got no logic, they sez, 
but wen “me” (I cum from Philadelphy, ware 
they sez “me”) wife sez on reading this: “I 
should think his readers would enjoy the read¬ 
ing if he does himself,” wy it duz seem to me 
as if the logic wuz al rite, especially as the 
readers would have no worriment on their 
minds, about any durn supperfluous words like 
the editor lets spoil his pleasure in the reading, 
thinking he mebby ’1 have to pay for some thet 
he thinks mite be loafers. An’ thet’s so! even 
wile I kno that enny wun who talks bak to an 
editor is plum foolish. 
Thet long cruise looked mitey good to me, 
but I suppose it ’1 be too turrble hard work to 
try to part any publishin’ company from so 
much money all at onst; ’an I need stamps to 
make Christmas presents. So I mite ez well 
bust it up, and with this I send ye the gem of 
the collection—the storm scene yeh enjoyed an 
the finish. An’ I giv yeh full liberty, if ye sees 
any word gasin’ at the scenery, insted uv 
swettin’ up on the halliards, to boot it over¬ 
board. 
If there is anything more coming to ye, I 
hopes ye git it. Yours sincerely. 
