The Tramp Steamer

A different way of life...

I wrote all of this this morning and without much thought of how it would flow or what to even write. Typical for my work, I wanted to write about something nautical and so I started writing about the tramp steamers of the past, but as I went along I thought that I could tie in something that was a little more deep in thought than just some random post about some barely known piece of nautical history. Perhaps as a way of sharing the personal side of history as well as trying to find some more rich way of living life? I don’t know how well this essay will go over but, to say the least, it all kinda works in my mind. At best, this is a short essay that may inspire someone in some way and at worst this is an exercise in creative writing that didn’t turn out as well as I thought it would. I shall let the reader (that’s you) be the judge.

I find that ships and the sea provide an incredible foundation for stories on how we are to live our lives. I think about the old tramp steamers and how the sailors must have experienced life while in the service of these old vessels. It would’ve been a tough life but one that I believe would’ve been worth living.

So without further ado (whatever that means), let’s get on with the gettin’ on…

Before everything became so time and profit sensitive, there was a type of ship that slowly sailed the oceans, going from port to port without a schedule and without an itinerary. The vessel would leave from its home port with whatever cargo the vessel charterer thought he could sell and then they would sail the ship off to sell whatever it was that they had loaded. Once they arrived wherever it was they were going, they would conduct their trade.

The ships often times would carry a shipping agent who would go out and find buyers for the ship’s cargo. The ship and crew would hang out in that port and conduct trade. The agent would sell what they could but would also buy whatever that port had to sell and then move on to the next port once they were satisfied. Once they arrived at a different port, the process would repeat itself. This went on until the charter was fulfilled and the vessel returned to the owner.

This was known as the tramp trade and was the usual way that shipping was done until containerization and intermodal transport became a thing in the 1960’s. There still is a tramp trade, but it is significantly smaller and usually deals in bulk items such as coal, grains, and ores that are shipped on what’s known as the “spot market”. The spot market is nothing more than a one time trip where a ship brings something to a port that may not have a need for regular service.

As far as the ships were concerned, they were as basic as regulations would allow. Once they owners finally gave up on sailing vessels in the early 1900s, they switched to triple expansion steam powered vessels that used hand fired coal burning boilers and many of these would stay in service for a very long time. With no frills and very few creature comforts, it would’ve taken a tough person to operate those ships.

For more information on steam ships, check out the link below…

Just a basic ship that oftentimes would travel slower than the wind.

The crews were usually made up of the rejects of whatever nation they came from as well as from the more prestigious steamship lines and were paid equal to that reject status.

The Daily Mail in the UK has some pretty interesting photos of what life would’ve been like for the tramp steamer crew. You can access it by clicking here.

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I get a little romantic with the thoughts of these things but I’ve imagine this kind of life from time to time, what would that have been like to work on tramp steamer back in their day. It’s really not a option for me these days and, honestly, it doesn’t seem as thought it would be as interesting today as it would’ve been back in the early 1900’s. But then again, nothing modern really seems interesting to me and I tend to idealize things anyway… To not have a schedule or set destination to travel would have been an adventure all its own and though a person would never have become wealthy from working the tramp trade, maybe not even enough to life when not sailing, a person’s life would’ve been rich in other ways that we don’t seem to have in our boring world today, ways such as experiences and life lived.

Ever hear of being Shanghaied?

Recently, I was looking around in a small antiques store in Ocean Springs, Mississippi and on the counter was a beat up old diving helmet. The price tag had an incredible number on it, so I’m assuming that the story of the helmet was original and true and is the only reason why I don’t have that helmet sitting somewhere in my house today.

The tag mentioned the origin as being from a salvaged Greek cargo vessel and was used to make repairs and inspections of the vessel while in various ports and from the looks of it, the helmet had certainly been well used. Because of the age of the helmet, I assumed that this helmet came from a Greek flagged tramp steamer. I got to thinking about that helmet and who the wearer may have been and what that person’s story was. Obviously, I have no idea who they were but I imagined some old guy sitting at a table and telling a pile of children of the time where he had to wear that helmet to remove a fishing net or mooring line from the ship’s propeller.

I imagined this old mariner telling stories of foreign and exotic ports, of storms that he sailed through, of nights under the stars, of sunrises and sunsets, of people he worked with, and on on. I imagined this old guy with a long white beard, chubby cheeks, and well funded beer belly telling his stories to a bunch of kids who are listening to every word that he said. Some of the stories would even be true, probably…

Imagine what that life would’ve been like. It would’ve been tough, no doubt but image the adventures. I imagine being a 18 year old kid in some exotic port with blue crystal clear water, white beaches, palm trees, and hula girls and being given a beat up old diving helmet and being told to go cut some rope out of the propeller when all you’ve known in life is a being a farm.

Imagine the stories that you would have of a life lived. When I was deciding if I wanted to join the Navy, I had a supervisor tell me “life is about having stories, now get out of this shop, join the Navy, and go make some stories”. I have no regrets in that path that I took, except that I didn’t take advantage of the time I was there to make more stories.

I’d like to close this short, cobbled together essay with a question. It’s one that I ask myself on just the same as I am asking you. What would it take for you to give up something that is holding you back from making more stories in your life?

Hope you enjoyed this brief thing. Let me know what you think below. As always, have a blessed day.

Fair Winds and Following Seas,

Nate