My Occupation Of Steam-Ship Voyages

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I could have gone to the Philippines and gotten paid for next to no work, but no I decided a to work a steamship that was passing through the Straits of Magellan. My name Lindsley, I sailed cutters right up until the steamships dominated the freight industry. The Philippines run that I turned down was the last freight run the company was going to do. Instead, I decided to switch my occupation to steam ships, after all, they were the freighters of the future. The day I began this new occupation of steam-ships men was a bright sunny L.A. day, this good start contrasted how the hardship the voyage was to hit. The port was familiar, so were the cutters that rested in the docks, creaking, and moaning as if they knew what fate awaited them…show more content…
The shaft was splintered beyond repair, we were going to have to replace it. This could take up to a year. To get a new prop shaft you have to order it, then it must be manufactured, have it shipped down, and finally put it on the ship. For several days the crew was just quiet, no one knew what to do. I was worried the crew was going to mutiny ( it had happened on one of my voyages before). As a precaution, I warned the captain that if the crew just layed around, eventually they would rebel. He agreed. Watch shifts were set up, fishing parties were sent out on the few lifeboats we had, and the order for the new prop shaft was sent…show more content…
We continued like this until our shift ended, half asleep, yet still aware of our surroundings. Many more nights passed, some calm, some so stormy you couldn’t see your hand in front of your space. Turns out the delivery guys were right, somehow they managed to install the prop shaft on a floating ship, normally this is done in a dry dock, in less than a month. The captain stuck to his word and we continued onto New Orleans. When we got there we were treated like any normal boat, the dockworkers completely oblivious that we had spent 9 months in one of the most remote parts of the world. As we unloaded the cargo in the sweltering southern heat and the suffocating 90% humidity we gazed upon the ship more fondly than any before. She didn’t have the wind-worn masts or the huge white sails hanging from the masts, or the creaking timbers, but I felt more at home on it than any of uncountable amount of ships I sailed
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