Driscoll Michael

"OUR ANCIENT MARINERS." CAPTAIN MICHAEL DRISCOLL (From "The Harbour.") When we read those -very interesting articles about our ancient mariners, those men who go down to the sea in ships, we usually visualise a fine big steamer tearing along "with a bone in her tooth" at the rate of knots. Yet there are -vessels that arc not big and fine, and whose tonnage is but a trifle. These play no mean part in the trade of our Commonwealth, and their masters show skill, ingenuity, and initiative to an extent unknown to those more fortunate skippers who have the whole wide ocean to do their work in. Ports there are into which only the smallest vessels can enter . Tricky, dangerous bars, with very little water on them, guard the entrance to our coastal streams. We call them rivers because it wouldn't sound well to call them creeks. And it is in these awkward corners that the small-sized wooden vessel and her master justify their existence. The big ships pass them proudly by. They've got half a mile of water under their keels. Yet their humbler, and per- haps despised, little sister, with her hold, full of timber and a thumping deck load CAPTAIN MICHAEL DRISCOLL. has faced the roll of the bar and won out through a tortuous channel that carries some inches less water than the vessel's draught. Our ancient mariner this month is one of those veterans who for many years past has tackled bad bars and trouble- some crossings with a smile After 54 years good useful years spent at sea, Captain Driscoll is now about to retire. He deserves ease and comfort for the remainder of his days . May they be long and happy. He is a Tasmanian by birth and looks well and hearty for all his 69 years. In the days when the whaling industry loomed large in the trade of the apple isle, Recherche Bay was a favourite spot for the whaling fleet to drop into, for the purpose of refitting, re-provisioning and rest. Perhaps one reason why whale- skippers liked to make for this-out-of- the-way haven instead of working up to Hobart was that sailors are sailors all the world over. To go up to town with a crew of land-hungry tars meant leaving one of them behind in the cala- boose. Sometimes there would be as many as 15 whalers at the anchorage and naturally there was a great demand for fresh meat and vegetables. So, at the age of 15 young Driscoll was master of a 4-ton cutter engaged in carrying provisions to and from Hobart. Fifty miles of bleak, rugged coastline in all weathers with his load of produce; that was his initiation into the life of a sea- man. After that he went further afield running the Korunah ketch, to Port Davey for pine. Then into the Lily Haw- kins, Hobart to Dunedin, thence back to Port Adelaide. That was a long voyage for a vessel of 10 tons. The ketch was the rig par excellence of Tasmanian craft in those days and fine vessels they were. The annual races for trading craft was an institution. Towards regatta time these ketch skippers would put their ships on the beach and ever- lastingly scrub their bottoms. Some even keeled in black-lead. One year Captain Driscoll with the John and Margaret scooped the pool at three of the races - Hobart, the Huon and Port Esperance. The next move was getting a vessel built, the Lily May, named after two of his daughters. He traded successfully for some years and then he bought the Coral, ketch, and came over to Sydney to seek the fortune that earnest, hard work brings. Good work he did with the Coral, and then, during the great Maitland gale, he lost her. Many a stout craft came to grief at the same time. Putting into Port Stephens for shelter he was unable to reach the comparatively safe anchorage in Nelson's Bay, and was forced to bring up in Shoal Bay, just inside the south head the weather grew wilder and it became necessary to try for a better holding-ground. So, slipping the cable, he essayed to beat up into Nelson's Bay. As he opened up Nelson's Head along came the very father of all squalls. Mains'l and mizen, close-reefed though they were, were blown clean out of the bolt ropes and the Coral was driven ashore on the beach towards Windy-Wappa. Purchasing the Oscar Robinson, and later the Lansdowne Captain Driscoll kept hard at it until 20 years ago he took charge of the Commonwealth, his first steamer. (Not to be confounded with the P and O liner. The vessel I al- lude to was a wooden craft owned by the firm of John Breckenridge and Sons, and she brought her cargoes out of the most unbelievable creeks. It would sur- prise most people to see the places into which ocean-going steamers have found their way. ) When the Commonwealth was sold he took command of the Jap, a vessel that was transformed from a good three- masted schooner into a better steamer. The Jap has run successfully to this day under his charge. For the month of May she had lifted ten full cargoes. It is difficult to get Captain Driscoll to talk about himself. He insists that there is nothing spectacular about his sea life. But, to those who know him, he stands forth as an example of energetic and faithful service. He has brought up a large family, all good Australians, and although none of them has taken to their father's profession, they are all doing well in their various vocations. Now, in the fulness of time, he is "swallowing the anchor." Let us wish him a long and happy rest after labour. Captain Driscoll is well-known in Hobart.