close of the nineteenth century. A lieutenant in the naval reserve informed the writer that he was an officer on a ship which came to San Francisco, and which was going to 'lie up.' He was informed that the rule of that particular ship was, under the circumstances of lying up, that none of the crew who voyaged to the port in her should leave the port in the same vessel. If they did he might as well quit the ship himself, i.e., they were to be run out.

On another vessel which was to 'lie up,' the chief officer asked the captain if he intended to pay the men off. His reply, with much emphasis, was, 'I never pay men off in a foreign port.' But the crew left the ship, all the same.

Another officer, remarking that he had been quietly told to get the men out of the ship, also said the officers should not be blamed on such ships, which in another sense are the counterpart of the coffin ships of a few years ago, as if they did not obey they would have shortly to find other berths for themselves.

Nor can captains always be blamed for ordering or allowing such work to be done, which has been evidenced by letters in the

Morning Post this year. A ship which arrived recently in Liverpool, after a voyage of fourteen or fifteen months, had during that period called at several ports, finally sailing from San Francisco home. The writer went on board and found the second mate, who remarked during conversation that they had had three crews on board since leaving England, and the only one paid off was that which brought the ship from San Francisco to Liverpool. The others had deserted, and then he said, with a queer smile and knowing look in his eye: 'You see, they have to work on this ship.'

The writer was well aware what he ineant. On coming ashore he met the captain, with whom he was well acquainted, and, after some conversation, remarked:

'I suppose your sailors ran away in Frisco ?" 'Yes,' was the reply; we've had three crews this voyage.'

Now, that ship had been fourteen or fifteen months on the voyage. A month's advance had been paid from England, and the crew, except two, ran away in a colonial port. A month's advance was paid from that port, and the crew, except the faithful two, deserted in San Francisco, and the voyage home lasted

five months, wages being £4 a month. The wages of the whole crew were then paid for seven months out of a voyage of fourteen or fifteen months, in addition to the saving effected from not having to feed the crew whilst in port. Undoubtedly, there is considerable profit to shipowners in a voyage of this kind, and unless it was so no efforts would be made on any ship to do other than keep the crew on the ship, much less attempt to run them out.'

Whether profit is made by someone out of the wages sacrificed by deserting seamen in other parts of the world the writer knows not, but on the Pacific Coast it most certainly in many an instance has been the case.

CHAPTER IX.

OTHER MATTERS.

WHEN ships are 'laid up' in San Francisco Bay, there are generally a number of sailors on board who have not deserted. Perhaps they don't get the chance to be paid off, and if they do they may elect to remain where they are, as it generally turns out a bad thing for a sailor to be paid off in a distant and foreign seaport, especially when the Board of Trade is not there to look after his interests. These men who stay by the ship go to 'lie

up ' in Mission Bay, Oakland Creek, Sausalito, or Martinez for from four to twelve months, and they lie within a few hundred yards of the shore in, as nearly as possible, complete safety. The weather, for the most part of the year, is very fine in San Francisco. Strong gales are not common, and very seldom occur except in winter, and it is not a difficult

matter to tell when a blow is coming on. In Oakland Creek ships lie safe and fast on the mud. In Sausalito a number lie on the mud, and the bay is most safe and quiet. In Mission Bay they lie well out of the way of shipping, as at Martinez, and the danger of collision, except in dense fogs, which are not common, is practically nil, whilst the risk of 'dragging' only happens when a very strong breeze gets up. There are scores of days and evenings throughout the year so calm and peaceful that there is no more danger to ships lying where they do than to houses built on land.

During the weary period of laying up' the ship, the majority of captains give the apprentices a very fair amount of liberty on shore. They have not, on many ships, any ground for complaint on that score, though there are ships on which they are kept on board, and forbidden all liberty, for months, in a manner which is simply cruel. It is mainly, however, to the seamen who may remain by the ships that reference is made. There are captains who give the men as well as the apprentices a fair share of liberty; but the majority give sailors, when the ship is 'laid up,' hardly any shore-leave whatever.