The Captain
A tall heavy-set Dutch Boer from South Africa, with a florid face and veined, bulbous nose from over-consumption of alcohol. He was in his late fifties and a product of the foc'sle, who had achieved the position of Shipmaster by being ruthless and energetic. In earlier times he would have been called a Slave Driver. A cruel, uneducated person, on the downhill path in his personal and professional life, and who became violent when drinking. Even I, with my limited education, and deprived cultural background, viewed him as a crude individual. At one time in his career, his Master's License had been suspended because of brutality towards his crew. Such a man would be the undisputed master of eleven men on an anticipated four month-long sea voyage, with no contact, not even by radio, with the outside world. The winds of the earth would carry those of us who survived, through 20,000 miles of the world's oceans, with this man having the power of life and death over us, without having to answer to any higher earthly authority. His name was Walter H. Myers, and his power over us was as absolute as that of the Holy Roman Emperor, Gaius Julius Caesar over his subjects.
The First Mate
The First Mate was a fitting companion to the Captain, with whom he had served on other sailing ships over the years. He was an extraordinary-looking person, who resembled and behaved exactly like a Hollywood casting office version of a pirate, except that he was for real. Of French descent, he spoke with a heavy accent. Of short, stocky build, very bow-legged, and with bare feet encased in a pair of knee-length, black rubber boots. He was bearded, with long, black, greasy hair to his shoulders, and his face seemed wrapped in a perpetual snarl. One-eyed Louie told me that he was a man to be avoided as much as possible, and that on the voyage that the Captain had his license suspended, Louis Huet, A.K.A. (French Louie) had been the Captain's First Mate.
The Second Mate
A Swede about fifty years of age, a quiet, inoffensive man of rather slight build. He was a gentle, pip-smoking person with ruddy cheeks, who had spent most of his life at sea, and had no family connections. He was unauthoritative in manner, and was no match for the Captain and the First Mate, who belittled him and pushed him about at will. He had the sympathy of all the Sailors in his relations with them. His name was John Johnson.
The Steward
This was the fourth member of the afterguard who lived aft with the three officers, sharing a small room with the Carpenter under the poop deck. His duties were to take care of the needs of the ship's officers, such as bringing meals aft from the forward galley to the after cabin. He also had the responsibility of issuing ship's stores to the Cook from the Captain's storeroom, as well as keeping the after cabin spaces clean. He was an Englishman, and spoke with a pronounced cockney accent. Because he lived aft in close contact with the afterguard, none of the crew forward trusted him, as people in his position were always suspected of tale bearing to the Captain and First Mate, although he may have been perfectly innocent. The crew forward never discussed any matter of significance in his presence. Actually, I think he was a good enough little chap, who must have been very lonely. He seldom talked, and life became extremely difficult for him later in the voyage when the Captain and the First Mate began their voyage-long drunken orgy. His name was Hood, and he was thirty-one years old.
The Donkeyman
The Donkeyman is the man whose primary task on board the vessel is the operation and maintenance of any type of machinery, in this case the gasoline engine used to hoist the heavy yards and booms when setting sails. He tended the oil lamps, keeping them filled with oil and the wicks trimmed. He was also the ship's carpenter. He was forty-two years old, a Scandinavian named Emil Nelson. Because he lived aft we never felt that he was one of us.
The Cook
A chubby round-faced Estonian by the name of Lars Timmerman, whom I never saw without a pipe clenched between his broken teeth. He was a pleasant person with a fine sense of humor, always cheerful, never lost his temper, or showed anger. A fine cook with a wealth of experience, and no matter what the weather, or how the ship threw itself about, he was always ready with a cup of coffee and something to eat. A real stalwart when things got rough. I do recall that he was not the cleanest or tidiest cook I ever knew, as I never saw him with a clean apron. He had a love affair with Victoria, a little black stray cat he found on a street in Victoria one rainy night, which helped him retain his sanity. He was forty years old.
Louis Gimel - Able Seaman
Louie at fifty-four was the eldest of the seamen. He was from Steilacom, Washington, and had been going to sea in sailing ships since the age of fourteen. A gentle sensitive man with craggy features, and an excellent seaman. He had little or no schooling, and had never married. Louie had lost one eye as a small child, and was known up and down the Pacific coast as One-eyed Louie. He had been a confirmed alcoholic since the age of fifteen. He never drew a sober breath after two hours ashore until his money was gone. No matter how large his payday after a long voyage, he was always broke after a week ashore. He would teach rank and me the art of seamanship in sail in his friendly, kindly way.
Chris Johansen - Able Seaman
His given name was Chris, and he was known as a "Black Dane" because of his jet black hair. He rarely spoke; kept entirely to himself, and was an excellent sailor. Thirty-five years old and a confirmed alcoholic like One-eyed Louie. He and Hubert shared the starboard foc'sle. We other four sailors shared the port foc'sle.
Malcolm Chisholm - Able Seaman
A talented artist, and intellectually very gifted, Mac was the epitome of a southern gentleman from the nineteenth century. He was twenty four years old, and from a prominent Mississippi family. A genuine idealist. He watched over me and we became close friends. I idolized him, and by my actions through the years, have tried to emulate him. He carried with him a small library of classical literature which he shared with me. At the time he came on board he was immersed in Carlyle's Sartor Resartus. He was a natural leader, a fine sailor; and unquestionably the most outstanding person on board in character, intelligence and maturity. Eighteen years would elapse before I would learn of his tragic end.
Hubert Schlee - Able Seaman
Hubert was German, about thirty-five years old. A tall blond man, with a close-cropped Teutonic haircut. Garrulous and argumentative in his views, but a cheerful and good shipmate. He had run away to sea from a deprived home life when he was fourteen years of age. Life had not been kind to him. He liked to tell us that his sister was a well-known Wagnerian opera singer in Germany - a statement we accepted with a grain of salt.
Frank Garlock - Able Seaman
Frank was twenty-two years old. A short round-faced Polish lad from New York City. Frank's father was a janitor in a large New York apartment building, was a widower, and Frank his only child. I had sought him out, and enlisted him to come with me on the FOREST DREAM. Though our friendship was fairly recent, we had much in common, and there was a strong bond between us. Frank was quiet, alert and soft-spoken. A romanticist in search of adventure as promised by the FOREST DREAM. Because of my having seen a newspaper article in a fish market, his life would end in my arms.
Niels Thomsen - Able Seaman
At eighteen, the youngest of the crew. A mind and heart filled with Victorian ideals and romance. He was strangely nave and light-hearted in his approach to life among this mixture of men drawn together on this ship of another time and place. Along with other lessons in life he would wear deep scars of sorrow before this fateful voyage ended.
Of such stuff was our crew composed. Twelve men of totally different ages, personalities and backgrounds, one of whom would be buried at sea before three months had elapsed.
A tall heavy-set Dutch Boer from South Africa, with a florid face and veined, bulbous nose from over-consumption of alcohol. He was in his late fifties and a product of the foc'sle, who had achieved the position of Shipmaster by being ruthless and energetic. In earlier times he would have been called a Slave Driver. A cruel, uneducated person, on the downhill path in his personal and professional life, and who became violent when drinking. Even I, with my limited education, and deprived cultural background, viewed him as a crude individual. At one time in his career, his Master's License had been suspended because of brutality towards his crew. Such a man would be the undisputed master of eleven men on an anticipated four month-long sea voyage, with no contact, not even by radio, with the outside world. The winds of the earth would carry those of us who survived, through 20,000 miles of the world's oceans, with this man having the power of life and death over us, without having to answer to any higher earthly authority. His name was Walter H. Myers, and his power over us was as absolute as that of the Holy Roman Emperor, Gaius Julius Caesar over his subjects.
The First Mate
The First Mate was a fitting companion to the Captain, with whom he had served on other sailing ships over the years. He was an extraordinary-looking person, who resembled and behaved exactly like a Hollywood casting office version of a pirate, except that he was for real. Of French descent, he spoke with a heavy accent. Of short, stocky build, very bow-legged, and with bare feet encased in a pair of knee-length, black rubber boots. He was bearded, with long, black, greasy hair to his shoulders, and his face seemed wrapped in a perpetual snarl. One-eyed Louie told me that he was a man to be avoided as much as possible, and that on the voyage that the Captain had his license suspended, Louis Huet, A.K.A. (French Louie) had been the Captain's First Mate.
The Second Mate
A Swede about fifty years of age, a quiet, inoffensive man of rather slight build. He was a gentle, pip-smoking person with ruddy cheeks, who had spent most of his life at sea, and had no family connections. He was unauthoritative in manner, and was no match for the Captain and the First Mate, who belittled him and pushed him about at will. He had the sympathy of all the Sailors in his relations with them. His name was John Johnson.
The Steward
This was the fourth member of the afterguard who lived aft with the three officers, sharing a small room with the Carpenter under the poop deck. His duties were to take care of the needs of the ship's officers, such as bringing meals aft from the forward galley to the after cabin. He also had the responsibility of issuing ship's stores to the Cook from the Captain's storeroom, as well as keeping the after cabin spaces clean. He was an Englishman, and spoke with a pronounced cockney accent. Because he lived aft in close contact with the afterguard, none of the crew forward trusted him, as people in his position were always suspected of tale bearing to the Captain and First Mate, although he may have been perfectly innocent. The crew forward never discussed any matter of significance in his presence. Actually, I think he was a good enough little chap, who must have been very lonely. He seldom talked, and life became extremely difficult for him later in the voyage when the Captain and the First Mate began their voyage-long drunken orgy. His name was Hood, and he was thirty-one years old.
The Donkeyman
The Donkeyman is the man whose primary task on board the vessel is the operation and maintenance of any type of machinery, in this case the gasoline engine used to hoist the heavy yards and booms when setting sails. He tended the oil lamps, keeping them filled with oil and the wicks trimmed. He was also the ship's carpenter. He was forty-two years old, a Scandinavian named Emil Nelson. Because he lived aft we never felt that he was one of us.
The Cook
A chubby round-faced Estonian by the name of Lars Timmerman, whom I never saw without a pipe clenched between his broken teeth. He was a pleasant person with a fine sense of humor, always cheerful, never lost his temper, or showed anger. A fine cook with a wealth of experience, and no matter what the weather, or how the ship threw itself about, he was always ready with a cup of coffee and something to eat. A real stalwart when things got rough. I do recall that he was not the cleanest or tidiest cook I ever knew, as I never saw him with a clean apron. He had a love affair with Victoria, a little black stray cat he found on a street in Victoria one rainy night, which helped him retain his sanity. He was forty years old.
Louis Gimel - Able Seaman
Louie at fifty-four was the eldest of the seamen. He was from Steilacom, Washington, and had been going to sea in sailing ships since the age of fourteen. A gentle sensitive man with craggy features, and an excellent seaman. He had little or no schooling, and had never married. Louie had lost one eye as a small child, and was known up and down the Pacific coast as One-eyed Louie. He had been a confirmed alcoholic since the age of fifteen. He never drew a sober breath after two hours ashore until his money was gone. No matter how large his payday after a long voyage, he was always broke after a week ashore. He would teach rank and me the art of seamanship in sail in his friendly, kindly way.
Chris Johansen - Able Seaman
His given name was Chris, and he was known as a "Black Dane" because of his jet black hair. He rarely spoke; kept entirely to himself, and was an excellent sailor. Thirty-five years old and a confirmed alcoholic like One-eyed Louie. He and Hubert shared the starboard foc'sle. We other four sailors shared the port foc'sle.
Malcolm Chisholm - Able Seaman
A talented artist, and intellectually very gifted, Mac was the epitome of a southern gentleman from the nineteenth century. He was twenty four years old, and from a prominent Mississippi family. A genuine idealist. He watched over me and we became close friends. I idolized him, and by my actions through the years, have tried to emulate him. He carried with him a small library of classical literature which he shared with me. At the time he came on board he was immersed in Carlyle's Sartor Resartus. He was a natural leader, a fine sailor; and unquestionably the most outstanding person on board in character, intelligence and maturity. Eighteen years would elapse before I would learn of his tragic end.
Hubert Schlee - Able Seaman
Hubert was German, about thirty-five years old. A tall blond man, with a close-cropped Teutonic haircut. Garrulous and argumentative in his views, but a cheerful and good shipmate. He had run away to sea from a deprived home life when he was fourteen years of age. Life had not been kind to him. He liked to tell us that his sister was a well-known Wagnerian opera singer in Germany - a statement we accepted with a grain of salt.
Frank Garlock - Able Seaman
Frank was twenty-two years old. A short round-faced Polish lad from New York City. Frank's father was a janitor in a large New York apartment building, was a widower, and Frank his only child. I had sought him out, and enlisted him to come with me on the FOREST DREAM. Though our friendship was fairly recent, we had much in common, and there was a strong bond between us. Frank was quiet, alert and soft-spoken. A romanticist in search of adventure as promised by the FOREST DREAM. Because of my having seen a newspaper article in a fish market, his life would end in my arms.
Niels Thomsen - Able Seaman
At eighteen, the youngest of the crew. A mind and heart filled with Victorian ideals and romance. He was strangely nave and light-hearted in his approach to life among this mixture of men drawn together on this ship of another time and place. Along with other lessons in life he would wear deep scars of sorrow before this fateful voyage ended.
Of such stuff was our crew composed. Twelve men of totally different ages, personalities and backgrounds, one of whom would be buried at sea before three months had elapsed.
