Rudyard Kipling - The ship that found herself

It was her first voyage, and though she was but a cargo-steamer of twenty-five hundred tons, she was the very best of her kind, the outcome of forty years of experiments and improvements in framework and machinery; and her designers and owner thought as much of her as though she had been the Lucania. Any one can make a floating hotel that will pay expenses, if he puts enough money into the saloon, and charges for private baths, suites of rooms, and such like; but in these days of competition and low freights every square inch of a cargo-boat must be built for cheapness, great hold-capacity, and a certain steady speed This boat was, perhaps, two hundred and forty feet long and thirty-two feet wide, with arrangements that enabled her to carry cattle on her main and sheep on her upper deck if she wanted to; but her great glory was the amount of cargo that she could store away in her holds. Her owners they were a very well known Scotch firmcame round with her from the north, where she had been launched and christened and fitted, to Liverpool, where she was to take cargo for New York; and the owners daughter, Miss Frazier, went to and fro on the clean decks, admiring the new paint and the brass work, and the patent winches, and particularly the strong, straight bow, over which she had cracked a bottle of champagne when she named the steamer the Dimbula. It was a beautiful September afternoon, and the boat in all her newnessshe was painted lead-colour with a red funnellooked very fine indeed. Her house-flag was flying, and her whistle from time to time acknowledged the salutes of friendly boats, who saw that she was new to the High and Narrow Seas and wished to make her welcome.

And now, said Miss Frazier, delightedly, to the captain, shes a real ship, isnt she? It seems only the other day father gave the order for her, and nowand nowisnt she a beauty! The girl was proud of the firm, and talked as though she were the controlling partner.

Oh, shes no so bad, the skipper replied cautiously. But Im sayin that it takes more than christenin to mak a ship. In the nature o things, Miss Frazier, if ye follow me, shes just irons and rivets and plates put into the form of a ship. She has to find herself yet.

I thought father said she was exceptionally well found.

So she is, said the skipper, with a laugh. But its this way wi ships, Miss Frazier. Shes all here, but the parrts of her have not learned to work together yet. Theyve had no chance.

The engines are working beautifully. I can hear them.

Yes, indeed. But theres more than engines to a ship. Every inch of her, yell understand, has to be livened up and made to work wi its neighboursweetenin her, we call it, technically.

And how will you do it? the girl asked.

We can no more than drive and steer her and so forth; but if we have rough weather this tripits likelyshell learn the rest by heart! For a ship, yell obsairve, Miss Frazier, is in no sense a reegid body closed at both ends. Shes a highly complex structure o various an conflictin strains, wi tissues that must give an tak accordin to her personal modulus of elasteecity. Mr. Buchanan, the chief engineer, was coming towards them. Im sayin to Miss Frazier, here, that our little Dimbula has to be sweetened yet, and nothin but a gale will do it. Hows all wi your engines, Buck?

Well enoughtrue by plumb an rule, o course; but theres no spontaneeity yet. He turned to the girl. Take my word, Miss Frazier, and maybe yell comprehend later; even after a pretty girls christened a ship it does not follow that theres such a thing as a ship under the men that work her.

I was sayin the very same, Mr. Buchanan, the skipper interrupted.

Thats more metaphysical than I can follow, said Miss Frazier, laughing.

Why so? Yere good Scotch, anI knew your mothers father, he was fra Dumfriesyeve a vested right in metapheesics, Miss Frazier, just as ye have in the Dimbula, the engineer said.

Eh, well, we must go down to the deep watters, an earn Miss Frazier her deevidends. Will you not come to my cabin for tea? said the skipper. Well be in dock the night, and when youre goin back to Glasgie ye can think of us loadin her down an drivin her forthall for your sake.

In the next few days they stowed some four thousand tons dead-weight into the Dimbula, and took her out from Liverpool. As soon as she met the lift of the open water, she naturally began to talk. If you lay your ear to the side of the cabin, the next time you are in a steamer, you will hear hundreds of little voices in every direction, thrilling and buzzing, and whispering and popping, and gurgling and sobbing and squeaking exactly like a telephone in a thunder-storm. Wooden ships shriek and growl and grunt, but iron vessels throb and quiver through all their hundreds of ribs and thousands of rivets. The Dimbula was very strongly built, and every piece of her had a letter or a number, or both, to describe it; and every piece had been hammered, or forged, or rolled, or punched by man, and had lived in the roar and rattle of the shipyard for months. Therefore, every piece had its own separate voice, in exact proportion to the amount of trouble spent upon it. Cast-iron, as a rule, says very little; but mild steel plates and wrought-iron, and ribs and beams that have been much bent and welded and riveted, talk continuously. Their conversation, of course, is not half as wise as our human talk, because they are all, though they do not know it, bound down one to the other in a black darkness, where they cannot tell what is happening near them, nor what will overtake them next.

As soon as she had cleared the Irish coast, a sullen, grey-headed old wave of the Atlantic climbed leisurely over her straight bows, and, sat down on the steam-capstan used for hauling up the anchor. Now the capstan and the engine that drove it had been newly painted red and green; besides which, nobody likes being ducked.

Dont you do that again, the capstan sputtered through the teeth of his cogs. Hi! Wheres the fellow gone?

The wave had slouched overside with a plop and a chuckle; but Plenty more where he came from, said a brother-wave, and went through and over the capstan, who was bolted firmly to an iron plate on the iron deck-beams below.

Cant you keep still up there? said the deck beams. Whats the matter with you? One minute you weigh twice as much as you ought to, and the next you dont!

It isnt my fault, said the capstan. Theres a green brute outside that comes and hits me on the head.

Tell that to the shipwrights. Youve been in position for months and youve never wriggled like this before. If you arent careful youll strain us.

Talking of strain, said a low, rasping, unpleasant voice, are any of you fellowsyou deck-beams, we meanaware that those exceedingly ugly knees of yours happen to be riveted into our structureours?

Who might you be? the deck-beams inquired.

Oh, nobody in particular, was the answer. Were only the port and starboard upper-deck stringers; and if you persist in heaving and hiking like this, we shall be reluctantly compelled to take steps.

Now the stringers of the ship are long iron girders, so to speak, that run lengthways from stern to bow. They keep the iron frames (what are called ribs in a wooden ship) in place, and also help to hold the ends of the deck-beams, which go from side to side of the ship. Stringers always consider themselves most important, because they are so long.

You will take stepswill you? This was a long echoing rumble. It came from the framesscores and scores of them, each one about eighteen inches distant from the next, and each riveted to the stringers in four places. We think you will have a certain amount of trouble in that; and thousands and thousands of the little rivets that held everything together whispered: You will! You will! Stop quivering and be quiet. Hold on, brethren! Hold on! Hot Punches! Whats that?