New London High School - Whaler Yearbook (New London, CT)

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2 BULKELEY NEWS known me since the day of my birth and hence knew that this was my first voyage of any sort, I was forced to admit that I was a greenhorn. “ Then, said Neptune in a sombre voice, “ then, by the laws of the sea you must be shaved by Neptune, Father of the Mighty Ocean. Clerk fetch the lather and brush and razor.” While these articles were being procured I was put in double rope yams. I then caught sight of the tonsorial apparatus. The lather which the clerk was mixing in a soup’n bully tin, looked bad and smelled worse. It was made up of tar, slush, and filth from the pig-pen (we earned live stock). The lather brush was the very piece of rope which I myself, had unraveled ten minutes before. As for the razor, it was a piece of rusty hoop iron bent on to a belaying pin. The lather was slapped on to my face liberally. The nasty, sickening mess got in my nostrils, ears, and mouth, but I was helpless. Then the crew looked on and roared while Neptune who was anything but a barber, scraped my beardless face with the “ razor. This painful operation over, I was given a speaking trumpet, such as is used in talking from ship to ship, and was ordered to hail to Neptune three times. I put the trumpet to my mouth and said in a weak voice, “ Hail Neptune ” “ Louder shouted the clerk. “ Hail Neptune I ” “ Again f ” Hail Nep—” I got no further. A bucket of salt water was shot up the trumpet into my face and at the same time I was gently capsized into the decktub of water upon which I had sat. I was completely swamped, surprised, frightened. As for Neptune, he disappeared in the darkness. I noticed next day that Len Smith’s voice resembled Neptune’s. The appearance of the sea-god’s flaming chariot had coincided with the disappearance of a barrel of whale oil. This cost the crew a day’s pay each. Such was the shaving of a greenhorn, a time honered custom of yore. But since the decline of American seamanship, life at sea has taken on a new aspect and the former duties of the man before the mast are performed by steam engines and foreigners who have no interest in customs or, in fact, in anything but to procure the daily stipend. Q. E. D, ’ 13. (Sj An Automobile Trip to Niagara Falls. THE fifteenth of June, 1912, with a party of friends, I left New London. It was as cool and beautiful a day as one could wish. On leaving New London I went by way of the state road across the Connecticut River. We passed through Middletown, Vethersfield, where the state prision is located, through Hartford, the capital of the state, and Springfield, in Massachusetts, where the most widely known rifles are made, to Westfield. Here we stopped to see what is said to be the largest oak tree in New England. This tree is twenty-seven feet in diameter, with no branches within fifty feet of the ground. We then passed on through Lenox to Pittsfield, where we stopped at the Maplewood Hotel over night. The next morning, after a fine view of Mount Greylock, the highest in Massachusetts, we left for Albany. We passed through Lebanon Springs. At Lebanon Springs we visited the old hotel, famous for its hot springs, and where Lafayette, on his last visit to the United

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Bulkeley News VOL. IX. FEBRUARY, 1913. No. 2. A Haze on the Sea. A Salt Sea Yarn at Told by Captain Jack. I HAVE noticed an article under the head ing “Jibboom Observations” appearing in a local paper recently, deploring the fact that it is extremely difficult to procure American crews for sailing vessels. I was reminded of an incident in the old days of whaling when I was a youngster. In those days sailing was a profession and no man was considered a sailor who had not crossed the line and been shaved by Father Neptune. Those sailors who had enjoyed this exhilarating scene looked with contempt on the clam diggers such as we see sailing in small boats from New London harbor. I’ve often spun this yarn about my first voyage across the Equator, but perhaps it will bear repitition. The warm dark night of the tropical latitudes (we were between Cayenne and Pernambuco) had fallen upon a calm softly undulating sea. I knew we were nearing the equator for although as a rule the officers did not inform the men before the mast of the ships position, the steward had over-heard the captain and the mate conversing in the cabin and from him, through the cook the information got to the foe’s le, I, a boy of twelve, was on my first voyage to these parts. For several days there had seemed to float to my ears vague, foggy mention of Neptune. Neptune, the father of the sea. No one seemed to talk at length about him. It was just in the air, as we say. On this night for some reason or other I was continually kept busy. For want of anything else I was ordered to put a whipping on a bit of rope’s end about four inches from the end and then to unravel the end. A senseless thing, it seemed; but it was for me to obey, not to inquire into the necessity of performing the task assigned. Suddenly there was a great hubub in the bow, and, looking up, I saw a mass of flame like a vessel afire floating some two hundred yards to leward. My task of fagging the rope done I ran forward. All was excitement. Cries of “Hail Neptune ! We’re crossin’ the line | see his chariot!” almost awaked the sleeping sea. I was ignorant of the meaning of it all and yet it seemed that the cries were in a way addressed to me. Soon, two characters, Neptune and his clerk, dressed in hideous costumes, came up over the night-heads, slowly toward the excited group in the waist. I began to get interested. I sat down on the edge of a deck tub, for no particular reason, but merely because the deck tub (filled with water) was the the only thing available to set on. All, except myself, hailed Father Neptune. Then the august father with a deep voice called for greenhorns, that is the ones who were crossing the equator for the first time. Old Jim Defly boats’n took Neptune in tow and advanced toward me. As Defly had

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BULKELEY NEWS 3 States in 1824, was a guest. This spring is still sending out hot water while the hotel has become a ruin, and the scenery remains as beautiful as any in the state of New York. On reaching Albany we visited the state capital, and found it to be very interesting. It was after the fire, and we saw what a large amount of damage had been done. After leaving this city we went by way of Schenectady to Fort Stanwix, and then to Syracuse, arriving in the evening. In this city all the trains pass through the main street, and in front of the large city hall. The trains passed the door of the hotel where we remained over night. In fourteen years only two men have been killed at any place by the trains. Next morning we traveled until eleven o’clock, as far as Auburn where we visited my aunt, and remained until the following morning. That day we crossed Cayuga Lake on the way to Rochester. In Rochester the Erie Canal is carried over the river in a large trough because the river was in line of the Canal. In the afternoon we traveled many miles. The road was as straight as an arrow and we could see it at least ten miles ahead. About five o’clock we arrived at Buffalo and passing through went to Niagara Falls. That evening we went into Prospect Park and saw the whole of the falls from the very brink. In the moonlight it enchants one and gives one a sensation of falling. We stopped at Cataract House and early next morning went back of the hotel and looked over the surging waters of tbe American Rapids. After breakfast we went for a walk through Prospect Park, which is now owned by the state of New York. From there I went over the bridge to Goat Island, and saw a building in which one dresses if he goes into the Cave of the Winds. I decided to go under the falls, and entered the building. I obtained a flannel suit, oilskins and carpet shoes; dressed in these I followed a guide and with several other people started down a flight of long spiral stairs. There are two hundred and eighty steps down to the ground. We followed a guide on a narrow path to the Rock of Ages, where there is a wooden bridge. Here you get wet and go more slowly, as it is slippery. The bridge curves under the fall. The Cave of the Winds is 100 feet long, 100 feet wide, and 1 60 feeet high. Here the wind blows at a rate of forty miles an hour, and you have to hold on to the railing to keep from blowing off. This is the only place where you can realize the force of the water. It is estimated that two hundred eighty thousand cubic feet of water pass over the falls every second. The spray forms white satin spar, which is made into barrels, necklaces, stars, and everything immaginable. The Cave is made larger every year by the action of the water. Every winter the ice breaks the bridges, and they have to be rebuilt. After passing through, you again strike the path, and ascend the spiral stairway. We went all over the island that morning and returned to the hotel and had dinner. Immediately after dinner we took a “ Gorge Route” trolley, which crosses over the Niagara River, and stops in the center so one can have a general view of the falls. The car passes along the Canadian shore and stops opposite where Table Rock used to be. This Rock projected 100 feet over the edge of the gorge. In 1833 it fell into the water, which is at least 170 feet below. The car goes on and then stops close to the Canadian Fall. You obtain a stop-over, and go into a little house, get a pair of rubbers, rain coat and hat, go down 100 feet, through a tunnel 800 feet, and find yourself under the Horseshoe Fall. At this place you see a great sheet of water roaring downward in front of you. You retrace your steps to the car and go on. In a few minutes the car turns and passes the bridge leading to the American side, and the next thing of importance you see is the