More cargoes: 1897

In Short

These stories offer a wry, humorous look at the seafaring world of the late 1890s, focusing on the lives of sailors, skippers, and their long-suffering land-bound acquaintances. Through a series of misadventures—ranging from elaborate pranks and fake illnesses to domestic entanglements—the narratives explore the petty rivalries and creative deceptions that define life aboard small schooners. The work endures because of its sharp, idiomatic dialogue and its keen observation of human folly, rendering a vivid, unsentimental portrait of a vanished maritime culture where wit is the primary currency.

The Story

The narrative landscape is populated by a recurring cast of men who view their ships as a temporary escape from, or a battlefield against, the demands of wives, creditors, and professional expectations. The arc of these stories moves between the cramped, damp quarters of the schooners and the shore, where the sailors attempt to navigate social life with varying degrees of ineptitude.

In one instance, a young lad attempts to secure passage, only to be caught in a bureaucratic and financial squeeze between a porter and a boatman; his journey serves as a precursor to the many ways these men try to outmaneuver one another. The theme of professional survival is central. When a crew finds the ship’s food lacking, they resort to a elaborate, mock-suicidal plot to terrify the captain into providing better rations. The ruse, though successful in the short term, inevitably collapses, leaving the perpetrators to scramble for dignity.

This pattern of deception repeats across different ships and social circles. When two skippers find their wives arriving simultaneously to stow away on their schooner, they are forced into a series of awkward compromises, pretending their own shipmates are sick with contagious diseases to keep the women at arm’s length. The comedy arises from the frantic, often contradictory efforts to maintain these lies. Characters like Mr. Raggett, a man in his late sixties, attempt to navigate the delicate social terrain of courtship with a mixture of bitterness and bluster, only to find himself hilariously outmatched by the quick-witted women he approaches.

Even death, or the appearance of it, becomes a tool for these men. Sailors and officers alike frequently stage illnesses or disappearances to dodge labor, avoid angry spouses, or manipulate their peers. The stories do not always end with justice or moral clarity, but rather with a return to the status quo, usually accompanied by a cynical shrug or a new, equally absurd plan. The finality of death, when it does arrive, is presented with a sudden, somber gravity that contrasts sharply with the earlier antics. In the end, the cycle of life aboard these small vessels—the petty squabbles, the brief alliances, and the constant, restless movement—continues, with the characters perpetually bracing themselves for the next minor crisis or the next chance to pull a fast one on their neighbors.

How It Unfolds

The initiation of the stowaway A young boy boards a schooner, quickly learning that navigating the demands of porters and boatmen requires a quick wit and a willingness to bluff his way through the initial costs of his passage.

The mutiny of the palate Determined to improve their meager rations, a crew stages a suicide and claims to have hidden an infernal machine in the hold, forcing the captain to provide luxury goods to appease his terrified, "dying" men.

The dueling wives When two captains face the arrival of their respective wives, they orchestrate an elaborate, fake health crisis to avoid the presence of their spouses on board, leading to a farcical game of social evasion.

The failed romantic crusade An aging suitor, convinced of his own charm, attempts to navigate the complexities of marriage proposals, only to be dismantled by the blunt and amused responses of the women he seeks to woo.

The final reckoning The constant stream of pranks and deceptions eventually settles into the reality of the sea, where humor and manipulation give way to the somber, quiet finality of a life ending in a lonely bunk.

The People

The characters are defined by their appetites and their insecurities. Captain Bunnett and his fellow skippers are often portrayed as blustering figures, obsessed with maintaining an aura of authority while being constantly undermined by their own crew and their wives. The Mate frequently acts as the architect of the chaos, possessing a sharper, more cynical mind that he uses to concoct elaborate lies, such as the supposed health scares or the "infernal machine" plots.

Then there is Raggett, the elderly man seeking marriage; he represents the pathetic side of the social game, his vanity constantly pricked by the reality of his age and the lack of respect he receives from the women he pursues. The Cook serves as the repository for the ship’s collective anxieties, often the one tasked with carrying out the more absurd instructions of the crew. These figures do not undergo profound internal transformations. Instead, they remain stubbornly themselves, trapped in a cycle of trying to appear cleverer than they are, only to be brought low by a sudden stroke of bad luck or a flaw in their own convoluted logic. They are men who live in the moment, driven by the immediate need for a better meal, a bit of extra money, or the simple desire to avoid an uncomfortable conversation.

In Its Own Voice

Regarding the early stages of a boy’s first venture to sea, the author captures the sharp, mercenary nature of the London docks:

“And a cheap ’arf-crown’s worth, too, captin,” said the man, as he thoughtfully put the chest down at the head of the stairs and sat on it pending payment.

The desperation of the crew is perfectly encapsulated when they attempt to manipulate their captain with a fake note:

“Dear cook,” he read feverishly, “I have made an infernal machine with clock-work, and hid it in the hold near the gunpowder when we were at Fairhaven.”

Even the romantic posturing of an older man is met with a devastating, dry wit:

“I may have one foot in the grave, and resemble a dried herring in the face,” pursued Mr. Raggett with bitter sarcasm, “but——”

What It's Really About

At its core, this book is an exploration of the performative nature of authority and the small-scale resistances of the working class. The sailors live in a world where the power structure—from the captain down to the boy—is constantly being tested through humor and deceit. These stories ask whether true control is possible in a confined, precarious environment, or if life is simply a series of temporary truces between opposing wills. The characters' obsession with food, status, and avoiding labor highlights the friction between the rigid expectations of the maritime hierarchy and the irrepressible human desire for comfort and autonomy. It is a study of how people maintain their sense of self when faced with the monotony and harsh realities of seafaring life.

Why Read It Today

Readers who appreciate a dry, observational wit will find much to admire here. The humor is not broad or slapstick; it is rooted in the way these men talk—their blunt, colorful, and often contradictory use of language—and in the absurdity of their schemes. Because these stories are deeply embedded in the late-Victorian dialect of the London docks, a modern reader must be prepared for a phonetic style that requires a moment of adjustment. Similarly, the period’s attitudes toward class and the treatment of women are presented without irony, reflecting the era's social norms.

However, the experience of reading these tales is remarkably vivid. You are dropped directly into a world of damp cabins, narrow alleyways, and the constant, low-stakes tension of life at sea. It is a book that stays with you not for its grand message, but for the quiet, lingering sense of the people it depicts: men who are not particularly heroic or virtuous, but who are relentlessly, humanly resourceful. If you enjoy character studies that value psychological realism over sentimentality, and if you have a tolerance for the salt-crusted, rough-hewn voices of a bygone era, these stories offer an authentic and unvarnished glimpse into a vanished corner of English life.