Robert Suggate journal and commonplace book, 1874-1878.

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in that respect only caused fun for my companions.

We ran through Yarmouth roads and stood for the North with fair and pleasant weather, for all night, when a calm came on and continued for many hours the sea was as smooth as glass. We had numerous of the duck tribe round us, some with their brood of young with them, and so small that they appeared to have only just left the shell, but we were in sight of land and they would doubtless find shelter among the rocks and boulders by the shore, and they were already as cunning as their mothers in diving when anything was thrown at them. We had light breezes and calm all the way, and at times the sea was full of that truly singular animal of the Medusae family commonly called the Jelly fish, they floated along with the tide in a very stately manner with their long arms or feelers hanging down, but when any attempt to capture them was made unless the operation was very dexterous, they took the alarm very soon and quietly receded from the surface, and sunk out of sight. They were of all dimensions from a foot to a few inches in diameter, of beautiful colours and so numerous that the ship almost seemed to float in living jelly.*

As we drew near the mouth of the Tyne river we hove overboard some of our ballast to spare the expense of working it out when in the river, we went over the bar with a fair wind, got out the remainder of the ballast in the usual manner and were

*In the Geological Museum of Dresden there are some fossil Medusae!

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soon ready to take out turn under one of the wooden spouts, or shoots, to have our hold filled with coals, brought down from the pit's mouth in little square wagons on iron tramways, at that time the only form of railway in use.

In waiting our turn at the 'spout' we spent a Sunday at Shields, and getting leave from the Captain to go on shore, having never before been far from home I had much to look at. I soon left the black dirty town of Shields behind me and struck into the country enjoying the beautiful sunshine and the song of the birds, and was sorry when night coming on made it necessary to seek my close sleeping berth on board the vessel once more. I had a great wish to see the famous old town of Newcastle about eight or ten miles higher up the river than Shields, but want of opportunity forced me to defer it until my next voyage.

As soon as we were full of coals we dropped down with the tide took a pilot and went out of the harbour and found a very heavy sea outside, and we being very deep in the water we were continually under water, every thing washed off the decks and not a dry thread about us. The cooking coppers stood on deck but we could keep no time there, our work was harder now the sails required a deal of attention, and I was obliged to stand my watch and not take my share of the ship's duties as far as my stomach would allow me, with the men, except taking the helm, and wondrous short my four hours watch below, 'Starboard watch', to which I belonged [illegible?] to be called before I had closed my eyes ten minutes, however we reached Yarmouth harbour all in due time discharged coals, and again took cargo for London, and such with slight variations is the routine on such vessels, and in the winter

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season the hardships which sailors have to undergo on board these coasting vessels, are dreadfully severe, a sad per centage of them having too few hands to work them properly, and [underfound?] in necessaries, finish their careers among the treacherous sands and shoals of the Eastern coast.

After some considerable experience in this way of life, and conversations with my uncle, I aimed for a larger ship and to see foreign parts, so returned home to Carlton and assisted in the family business again, and although I found a glad welcome amongst all and desire that I should remain, I could not settle down, and in somewhat less than a year I found my name on the books of a large East Indiaman called the Lord Lowther, and bound to China. She was lying at Gravesend when I joined her on the 7th April 1830. She was a fine vessel of about 1600 tons. After taking in pigs, fowls and sheep for the Captain's mess-table, on the 18th "wives and sweethearts" took a last farewell of their jolly tars and left the ship, orders were given to get the anchor, the bars were ship'd to the capstan and round we went, the old fifer giving us the tune of-

"Go where I will I'll ne'er forget The girl I left behind me."

I believe the only tune he ever learnt, for whether outward or homeward bound, making sail or reefing topsails, fair or foul weather, he reminded the jolly tars of their vows to their absent fair ones by giving them that tune to work by, he was a funny little old man, with a jolly good temperance, grog-loving face. I shall not easily forget it or his tune either.

We ran into 'the Downs' and it coming on to blow strong and right in our own teeth, we let go the anchor off Deal where we remained several days, making during the time some

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unsuccessful attempts to get away. We here took in some more provisions for the Captain's table, and sent letters on shore to our friends. At length the wind came fair, the merry old fifer struck up his famous tune and we step'd round with the capstan bars, the anchor was got and steering down channel, leaving our native, white-cliffed Albion, behind us.

Farewell to England

Adieu to thee dear England While this life my breast shall swell, I never can forget Land-I've loved so long and well.

Though storm and wave around thee rave, Thou'st beauty unto me; I could not rest within a grave That was not made in thee.

The Kings of Briton's Isle. Ere they closed their ancient reign By their gallant action gave thee Wide empire o'er the main.

And thou afar, a shining star Did other nations see. The pride of ocean's purple car The freest of the free.

Oh! Briton's ancient daughters On thy wild romantic steep In the caverns of thy water Many a form is laid to sleep.

That still I love, like some above. -The grave that yet there be And though to other lands I rove

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My heart is still with thee.

In thee thou happy Island. When the summer sun shall shine Thy beauty might beguile and-Warm a colder heart than mine

Though billows beat, around thy feet With loud and roaring sea; And I may lovelier countries greet A dearer cannot be.

Old [Magazine?]

On the 27th the pilot left us, and we kept on in company with several of the "company's" vessels. The '[illegible?]', '[[Sir David Scott]]', '[[George the Fourth]]', and "[[Earl of Balcarras]]", noble names and noble ships, but we shortly lost sight of all but the [[Sir David Scott]]. As our vessel carried many guns and had a regular man-of-war's fit out with small arms, boarding pikes +c, we had plenty of amusement at practice with the same in case any pirates [bene?] foolish enough to meddle with, the gun I was stationed at was numbered 27 on the quarter-deck, and it was good fun to see us with the boarding pikes when the order was given to 'repel Boarders' flying about like wild fellows. Off [[Cape Finnisterre]] a heavy storm of wind and rain came on we reefed topsails and made all snug, but looking at our companion the [[Scott]] shortly after saw her main topsail yard was carried away, we thought ourselves lucky