construction which marks the highest peak in the art of wooden shipbuilding in England, before the advent of scientific naval architecture. She was one of a class of vessels which were built for the hardest sailing ship trade in the worldthe copper ore carriers. These vessels carried coal from ports in the North of England, across the South Atlantic, around Cape Horn, to the western coast of South America, where they discharged their coal and loaded copper ore for the return trip (at that time there were no copper smelters in South America). Like another famous class of 18th and 19th century small square rigged ship, the colliers, the Vicar was built for an old established trade, which her builders thought would go on forever. Therefore, she was built to last forever . When Lloyds surveyor William Fell surveyed the Vicar, at Robert Hardy's Yard on the 28th of April 1841, his comment on the general quality of workmanship of the vessel was: "As good as can be made." His further comment, under "General Remarks," was: "This vessel is built of the best materials with excellent workmanship, and expensively fitted out in every ¡way, and fit to take a dry and perishable cargo to any part of the world, and I am of the opinion should be classed AI 12 years .... " Mr. Fell's enthusiasm is understandable when one scans his original survey report. Keel, stem and stern posts were of "African Oak" (a term loosely used in the period which referred to what we now know as iroko, and sometimes to upepe-both well known West African
hardwoods, used to this day) as was planking and futtocks. Except for the floors and "first foothooks," built of English oak, the lowermost outside planking ¡of American elm, and the decks, which were of pine, the original report has the entire ship built of this timber. The structure was held together by oak treenails and copper bolts, and further strengthened by forged iron knees, pointers and breasthooks. Present Situation Goose Green, where the Vicar lies, is just under 50 miles from Port Stanley, the major port of the Islands, by air. There is communication with Stanley several times weekly by DeHaviland Beaver float plane. Heavy cargo is hanthe Falkland Island Companies motorship Monsunen or the Government's M. V. Forrest. The location in Choseil Sound is a safe anchorage for ships of any size in any weather. The whole area is the property of the Falkland Island Companies Darwin Estate, and Goose Green has electric power, a doctor, accommodations, and catering possibilities for a working crew, by arrangement with the company. the Vicar lies parallel to the shore, inside a strong modern dock built alongside her starboard side by the Falkland Islands company. The dock has a timber deck built on pilings, and makes an ideal working platform for operations on the Vicar. The ship is listed to port at an angle of about 15 degrees, high side to seawards. The ship forms an extension to the pier, and serves as a breakwater behind which small boats belonging to the Darwin Estate can shelter.
The Falkland Islands Company has asked that we replace the Vicar with a suitable structure when we remove her. According to Philip Berrido, Darwin's oldest inhabitant, the Vicar has been there since 1912, when she was brought into the bay to be sunk as a dock, was improperly anchored, and blew away during a night gale, to fetch up in her present position. Berrido says that a good deal of her last cargo of coal still remains on board. It's still there because, says Berrido: "It's spoiled by the salt and no good for the stove." The coal ballast of the Vicar has undoubtedly contributed to her well being over the years, holding her down so that gales have not pushed her on shore to break up. Norman Brouwer (historian), Hilton Matthews (shipwright) and I carried out a preliminary survey of the Vicar of Bray on April 14 and 15, 1976. We were as favorably impressed as had been Mr. Pell, 125 years before. At first, the Vicar seems a desolate wreck, with her decks fallen in and weather deck beams collapsed, and the port side timber port in her bow gaping like a missing tooth in a pretty face. That first unfortunate impression of the Vicar is modified when one inspects her carefully. Upright, with the mess cleared up, it would be difficult to believe that she is in her second century. Except for her perished deck, smashed transom, the accessway cut into her starboard side, and some missing planks on the port side forward, the hull seems intact. Her broken rudder still chatters in its worn gudgeons in the chop that builds
This engraving by Thos. Armstrong shows San Francisco as it was on October 31, 1849, three days before the arrival of the little bark Vicar of Bray.
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