"The struggle to get the ship... past the Hom was so bitter and all-absorbing that we forgot our other troubles." a rigger on a construction site at Risdon, and when this ended, he worked in a jam factory. One evening at a theater, the reporter covering the show was pointed out to him, and it occurred to Alan that perhaps journalism might be a challenging and congenial profession. He visited the editor of the Hobart Mercury, who shared Alan's interest in Hobart's maritime past. He expressed great interest in the private journals Alan had kept at sea, and was pleased to learn that Alan had done well at school, matriculating with a scholarship. However, the editor held out small hope for a career as reporter on the Mercury's staff. Alan enrolled in a business college, taking shorthand and typing, and became competent at both. There was no vacancy at the Mercury, however, and when the job in the jam factory ended, Alan got a temporary job again at the Risdon zinc works as rigger. When that ended, in desperation he sold insurance. At 19 the future seemed to hold little promise for a youth of Alan's restless curiosity, and as yet latent creativity, to say nothing of his romanticism. Finally he was taken on in the copy room at the Mercury . He found a friendly spirit in the office amongst dedicated and considerate colleagues. The paper made a generous salary allowance since Alan was older than the usual beginner and not living at home. He was determined to learn everything possible and somehow circumvent the interminable four-year training period . He was soon given a horse racing column which necessitated attending race meetings and giving tips. But one day there suddenly appeared in Storm Bay, steaming up to the Hobart wharves, a small fleet of strange-looking vessels accompanied by a large steamer; this was a Norwegian whaling fleet heading for a great new shaling ground in the icefields of Antarctica . Here was opportunity knocking with an unusual story, which Alan eagerly seized. At the Norwegian consulate Alan signed on the factory ship, the large steamer Sir James Clark Ross. Rated as " whaler's labourer," he was given leave of absence by the Mercury to accompany the expedition, and was provided with a camera and film . To date only scientific expeditions of discovery had penetrated the Antarctic. This, the first whaling fleet to enter these hostile seas, was under the command of the distinguished Norwegian whaling figure, Carl Anton Larsen . Alan laboured 12-16 hours a day coaling the whale chasers-one of which was lost-and hauling frozen blubber around the deck of the factory ship. The chasers hunted the giant blue and fin whales of the Antarctic, which were beyond reach of the old wind-driven whalers, which could not break through the almost impenetrable pack ice. Often the whale would sink when harpooned , and the carcass could only be handled by the greater resources of modern powered vessels. Alan revelled in the novelty of this unique adventure, marvelling at the glowing dawns and sunsets. He was fascinated by the breathtaking beauty of this desolate, frozen world glittering in the pale sunlight, which could be suddenly blotted out by furious gales and blizzards. His enterprise exceeded all expectation , and his wireless accounts of the undertaking were syndicated with great success in Australia and New Zealand. These were later issued in book form locally, to be followed by an enlarged and revised illustrated edition, which was well received in England and the United States before being translated. Alan was promoted to junior reporter, and soon after was married to a staff member of the newspaper. Alan thrived on the Mercury. He liked the paper's spirit of public service. Within a year he was a general reporter covering council and parliament meetings besides much else and within two years he was a senior reporter. But Alan continued to dream of the big Cape Horn squareriggers . Could he use his new skills to write of these ships? His brother Frank, who had spent a season whaling in the Ross Sea , was now in the Finnish four-masted bark Hougomont, formerly 16
a Scot. He kept Alan informed of the activities of the remaining square-riggers afloat, employed in the Australian grain trade. With his marriage failing (his wife thought seafaring a low-caste occupation; they had little in common) Alan worked late nights and a scheme took shape in his mind. Sales of Tasmanian fruit were lagging aboard, particularly the apple market in the United Kingdom and Europe, which vitally affected the local economy. Alan suggested to the Mercury that someone be sent to investigate such matters and send back reports which would be of absorbing interest to local readers. The paper thought the idea excellent: Alan could also act as a one-man trade mission to stimulate exports. He would pay his fares in exchange for a nominal sum to maintain his home in Hobart for six months. He did not specify how he would travel. ... While visiting Melbourne in 1927 to report a conference, Alan discovered the presence of two of the finest sailing ships afloat discharging Baltic pine in the River Yarra. They were the four-masted barks Herzagin Cecilie, a big Finnish vessel built in 1902 as a German training ship, and the smaller Swedish Beatrice originally a Scot. Both vessels were to load grain in South Australia and make a race of it round the Horn to Europe. Boarding the Herzagin Cecilie Alan was delighted to discover that her master was the great Ruben de Cloux who remembered Alan from the Lowhill-and yes, he would be glad to sign him on as AB! Alan returned to Hobart and made the necessary arrangements with the Mercury for six months' leave. Alan would support himself with magazine articles he'd sell in England, and would also market a book about the voyage he'd write during his watches below on the passage. Recalling his success with the whaling photos, he invested in a camera. His wife, however, was appalled; chasing the will o' the wisp around Cape Horn with sailors who were all a no-hope bunch of vagabonds! Alan joined the Cecilie at Port Lincoln and she in company with the Beatrice sailed on January 19, 1928. Going south of New Zealand the former Nord-Deutscher Lloyd Line schoolship rounded Cape Horn some 33 days later after some furious driving by her master in the gales and great seas of the Southern Ocean . It was punishing and unceasing toil for her inadequate boy crew aloft in the massive rigging and on deck making and shortening sail. However, the long poopdeck kept the vessel clear of seas breaking on board and provided dry and comfortable quarters. The food was also warm and abundant. An unwelcome addition on board was an Australian girl stowaway, who did add a certain interest to the voyage and later appeared in Alan's subsequent books and articles. In the Northeast Trades, as the vessel sped towards the English Channel , with Alan on the wheel , Captain de Cloux would yarn with him about his plans to buy a four-masted bark to sail in the Australian trade. Alan found such conversations a pleasant diversion as the noble Cecilie raced towards Falmouth for orders. The Beatrice sailed by way of Good Hope, and despite her advantages, was beaten in the race by the Cecilie. Alan once told me that he had no idea when he joined the Cecilie that the book he wrote on board would meet with such overwhelming success and become a sea classic. Alan spent several months in England , first leaving the manuscript of his Cecilie voyage, Falmouth for Orders with a literary agent. He wrote articles on the voyage and then traveled on the Continent , thoroughly investigating the state of the fruit market. He took the opportunity to visit Gustav Erikson , the great sailing shipowner in the small port of Mariehamn in Finland_:'a small man with a limp and a somewhat aggressive way of speaking," as Alan found him. Captain Erikson made a deep impression on Alan, who often referred him in his later books and articles. Alan returned to Australia in a passenger vessel. He soon learned
SEA HISTORY, SUMMER 1984