A DAY ON THE GOVERNOR BODWELL
:A DAY ON THE GOVERNOR BODWELL
(My Grandfather Ted Maddox was a crewman on the Govenor Bodwell. In 1920, he stepped off the boat for a little break before departure and saw 16 year old Phyllis Shields sunbathing on a rock. The effect was instantaneous and much of the reason I'm here. He kept a diary.)
On a brisk late spring morning in 1920 the Governor Bodwell is docked at Tillson’s Wharf in Rockland and preparing for departure to Vinalhaven. Several capable deckhands wheel dollies loaded with freight down water-slicked ramps to the main deck where other crewmen swiftly pack cartons, boxes, bales, and crates of merchandise, feed, groceries, and small livestock into the roomy freight storage area. Passengers are arriving from the railway station after an all-night trip from Boston. Wearing a stiff black-visored cap that identify him as the ticket agent, a tall man with a vest and bow tie passes out tickets stamped: Vinalhaven-Rockland Steamboat Line and the deckhands wrestle some of the larger travelling bags and trunks down the ramp for storage below. Carrying hand luggage and smaller suitcases the passengers cross an elevated gangway to the salon, the second deck above the water line. Here they can relax in genuine comfort and enjoy the ride over to the island. Surrounded by clean windows, it boasts oak chairs with velour upholstery, fine carpets, paneled walls, spanking white paint, polished brass fittings, and two clean comfortable lavatories. If any of the ladies become indisposed during the voyage, they can retire to the "Ladies Cabin" on the main deck, aft of the galley and mess room. A private retreat much appreciated by lady voyagers, this comfortable room is furnished in wicker, colorfully upholstered and with plenty of comfortable chairs and a sofa or two, tables, curtains to draw over portholes, and wall-to-wall carpeting. Adjacent is an immaculate and well-furnished ladies lavatory. As sailing time draws near the purser emerges from his own stateroom just aft of the salon smartly attired in a crisp clean uniform. His job is to collect tickets and provide unrelenting good will among the sea-going public. He is the right man for the job, having been at it for so long he remembers everyone and recalls important events in the lives of nearly everyone.
On either side of the great boiler are the coal bunkers, each holding six tons of the black fuel. I am shoveling it at top speed as the engineer watches the gauge, bringing the pressure up in preparation for sailing.
If we were on the Vinalhaven, the shoveling is hard but not exhausting because the vessel has a Roberts boiler and a compound engine. The large boiler and 120-horsepower engine make a very easy steaming unit. However, we are on the Bodwell today, I have already worked up a fine sweat, because she has a small Almy boiler and a large 220-horsepower engine, demanding the best I can give. It is essential, even crucial, that we keep the steam pressure up, because the ship depends on that pressure to run the compass courses at the required speed and precisely on time.
I know that in the galley there are smells rising now other than coal, steam, and sweat. The cook will be preparing a hearty meal for the crew accompanied by a hot biscuit and a rich Indian pudding or Plum Duff. As soon as we sail, the deckhands will crowd into the mess room to chow down. The galley is just beyond this boiler room and the mess room is between the galley and the luxurious Ladies Cabin.
As soon as the crew is finished, the tables will be scrubbed down and reset, and those passengers who wish will be fed the same delicious meal in a more leisurely fashion.
High above, on the top, or boat deck, a crewman has just run a quick check on the two lifeboats hanging from their davits. Nearby is a sturdy workboat and a canvas life raft. Everything is in apple pie order, and ready for instant use.
Forward of the saloon the deckhouse stands like a detached structure, its interior divided by the pilot house across the front and 2 fine staterooms at the rear. These lofty perches belong to the Captain and his First Mate. Both are in the pilot house now; both in uniform. They are figures to inspire confidence.
Today will be a fine crossing, it is summer, just a little Southwest haze, but good visibility. We will hit our compass marks dead on. It is not always so. I have fired this ship in fog and gales when our pilot had nothing to rely on but his own skill as a navigator and my strong back feeding coal in to keep the pressure up in the boiler. In a fog he sets his course by compass and by the time elapsed between buoys. For example, from a certain bellbuoy on a course of NNE 1/4E it would take twenty minutes at a constant speed of 12 knots to reach bell buoy number two. Note: There was no radar, loran or radio. You can see how, at night, or in fog, that sustained speed is essential to insure safe navigation.
Today we are making our second trip across the bay from Rockland to North Haven then on to Vinalhaven. It is now 4 o'clock as we pull away from the Maine Central Wharf with a deep blast of our whistle. It will be after six before we tie up in Vinalhaven. We have been on board since six this morning when we came down to the island dock and woke the sleeping deckhands in their forward berths. For this summer run we need a Captain, Mate, Engineer, fireman, three seamen, a cook, and a mess boy. In winter we take on an extra fireman and a quartermaster. In spring and fall I will be on the Vinalhaven, making one round trip a day between Rockland and Vinalhaven, while the Governor Bodwell makes the North Haven run.
But I mentioned winter a minute ago. It's the winters that make or break you. From December until April I will be firing on the Bodwell as she takes over the entire Island run from one end of Penobscot Bay to the other. Our winters in these early 20s are the coldest on record. We will come aboard in darkness at Swan's Island in that bitter cold, fire up and get the boiler hot, load our freight and passengers, and head out at six o'clock before the sun comes up. On, then, to Stonington, North Haven, Vinalhaven and Rockland. When the Thorofare freezes we can't land at North Haven. So when that happens we come direct from Swan's Island to Vinalhaven, load on freight and passengers then swing out around the treacherous ledges off Lanes Island and run down the eastern bay to Stonington. More often than not we find that harbor ice-locked, too. So we stand off and put our freight and passengers down on the ice, where horse-drawn sleds come out to carry them ashore.
One February morning in 1923, the Governor Bodwell left Swan's Island and couldn't get back for three weeks. That's how brutal the cold was. During that time only Vinalhaven and Stonington had service and much of that over the ice. On one of those trips that winter we were three days making the circuit, because the ice caught us two miles from Stonington and there we sat for twenty-six hours, prisoners of the cold.
Still, we give it our best, all year-round, concerned for the comfort and safety of our passengers.
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