National Museums Liverpool Blog - maritime history

Over the past few days you will have seen news reports on the Australian government's apology for its role in the British child migration programme (you can see the PM's apology on the BBC website). The British government is expected to follow suit shortly.

From the late 19th century Britain operated schemes which sent more than 100,000 children to Canada, Australia and other Commonwealth countries. These children did not travel with mothers or fathers but alone, in groups. Taken from poverty and disadvantage it was believed that they would have a better life working in the clean expanses of the British Empire, where they were a source of much-needed labour.

The children's experiences varied. While some were orphaned, many left families behind, and separation from their homeland often led to a lonely, brutal childhood. Some found happiness with new families, while for others it was a disastrous move. They were made to work long hard hours on farms. Some were abused. Many ended up in institutions. Some were told their parents had died, only to discover years later that this wasn't the case.

The repercussions are still being felt. Many former child migrants and their families are still coming to terms with their dislocation. It's been difficult to watch some of the displaced people on news reports; their sorrow and anger is so clear. Their lives were obviously shattered by their experiences.

It's now recognised that the forced removal of children from their homeland was a bad idea, and one which caused more harm than good, hence the Australian government's apology.

Coincidentally we are currently planning an exhibition on this very subject. 'On their own - Britain's child migrants' is being organised in collaboration with the Australian National Maritime Museum. It opens in Sydney in November 2010 then comes to Liverpool in summer 2011 before being toured to other museums around the country. It will focus primarily on the 1860s to 1960s and the children who travelled to Canada and Australia. Along with Glasgow, London and Southampton, Liverpool was one of the main embarkation ports for children so it's fitting that the Maritime Museum will be hosting the exhibition.

We'll be launching a website in spring next year and will be looking for the reminiscences of people affected by the programme. If you were involved we'd be keen to hear from you.

The sheet reads: The Liverpool Journal of Commerce is now enlarged and contains later and more comprehensive shipping and commercial news than any other paper. Image courtesy Liverpool Daily Post and Echo.

Sometimes you have to leave a place to find it again, if you know what I mean.

Liverpool once had many small shipping offices which did good business supplying goods and passengers to the many vessels using the port. Gradually they largely disappeared and are now a fading memory.

Some years ago I went to Las Palmas, the busy capital of Gran Canaria and a shopping mecca. I wandered off to the dock area one sunny day and stumbled across busy little shipping offices. They were like those I remembered in Liverpool with wide wooden counters and ornate metal grills.

In keeping with much of modern business, most ships today are owned by large multi-national companies. These enterprises are often involved in other ventures such as property development, finance or leisure facilities. They operate on a global scale whether by raising money, buying ships or engaging crews.

Many ships are registered in countries like Liberia or Panama where regulations are less stringent than in Britain. Until the 1950s, most ships using British ports were owned by British shipping companies with familiar names such as Blue Funnel.

Most of these concerns were founded in the mid-1800s and were often controlled by families with long maritime traditions. However, only a few independent shipping companies survive today.

On display in the Merseyside Maritime Museum’s Life at Sea gallery is a colourful spread from Liverpool’s Journal of Commerce of 1882 (pictured) showing flags and funnels of shipping companies that figured in the boom years of the port.

Britain, as an island nation, will continue to rely on merchant ships and seafarers long into the future. Most goods still go by sea and sea travel is growing in popularity.

A new exhibit in the gallery illustrates the impact of container ships in modern sea transport and trading. It is a 10 ft long model of the Liverpool Bay, built in 1971. The ship was built in Kiel, Germany, for the Ocean Steamship Group founded by renowned Liverpool shipowner Alfred Holt in 1865.

The 58,000 tonne Liverpool Bay was one of the new generation of ships designed to handle containers. She could carry more than 2,300 containers and was one of five sisters built at the same time, originally sailing to East Asia.

Huge ships are now a familiar sight on the Mersey but I remember vividly the impact of vessels like the Liverpool Bay arriving for the first time in the early 1970s.

A new Maritime Tale by Stephen Guy appears every Saturday in the Liverpool Echo. A paperback – Mersey Maritime Tales (£3.99) – is available from the museum, newsagents, bookshops or from the Mersey Shop website (£1.50 p&p UK).

Sarah Jane Parsons in Bridlington, 1950. Image courtesy Liverpool Daily Post and Echo.

Homesickness is like seasickness – you only feel better once you’ve stopped travelling. I have suffered from both and hope I never experience them again.

Longing for home gnaws away at the soul and is almost impossible to eradicate. I found that it was just as much the loss of my cultural roots as the absence of family and friends.

The logistics of moving huge numbers of emigrants through Liverpool involved everything from supplying cabins to the plates they ate off – it was very big business indeed.

Around nine million people moved abroad through Liverpool between 1830 and 1930 making it probably the greatest emigration port in world history. It was often very emotional for the passengers as they left their old familiar homes behind for new lives in unknown countries.

Many descendants of those emigrants still have strong emotional attachments to Liverpool because it was the last place their families saw before taking the leap into the dark.

However, some did not like their new lives and returned home. There were a number of reasons for this including work and financial issues but often it was simply homesickness.

The new emigration gallery at Merseyside Maritime Museum focuses on many different aspects of this mass migration.

From the tail end of the era there is a fascinating model of the Blaco portable cabin from around 1920-30. They were made by F C Blackwell & Co of Crosby, Liverpool.

Portable cabins were used by shipping companies involved in emigration from the 19th century onwards. The detailed wood and metal demonstration model was used when shipping companies such as Cunard and Canadian Pacific employed Blaco cabins. They could be quickly installed to cater for individual needs of emigrants.

A wooden trunk was used by the Parsons family when they emigrated from Liverpool to the United States in 1906. Oliver Charles Parsons and his wife Sarah Jane were originally from Wakefield, Yorkshire.

After arriving in the USA they lived with their young family in Tennessee, Kentucky and Wyoming before returning to England in 1914.

Oliver died during the flu pandemic of 1918 and Sarah had to raise here five children alone. She kept the wood and metal trunk with its many memories until her death in 1965.

Photographs show Sarah at Bridlington in 1950 (pictured) and her daughter Minnie Chesters in 1954. Minnie was the couple’s eldest child and had emigrated with her parents.

A new Maritime Tale by Stephen Guy appears every Saturday in the Liverpool Echo. A paperback – Mersey Maritime Tales (£3.99) – is available from the museum, newsagents, bookshops or from the Mersey Shop website (£1.50 p&p UK).

Emigrants on the Guion Liner, Wisconsin. Image courtesy Liverpool Daily Post and Echo.

The nearest I’ve got to emigrating is briefly wanting to flee to the Isle of Man - in the summer it matches any other exotic island in the sun. It was a bright sunny day and I was taking a lunchtime stroll while covering a heavy-going criminal trial at Liverpool Crown Court. Balmy breezes drifted off the sea. Down at the Pier Head the Manx ferry was waiting with last boarders being called.

I was sorely tempted to dash up the gangplank but then common sense kicked in.

Emigration is a drastic step into the unknown and there are usually very good reasons for people wanting to make new lives in different countries

People emigrate for three main reasons – poverty, persecution and ambition. In the great movements of people around the globe in the 19th century, many were fleeing from hardship and poverty.

Emigration was also a way of fleeing political and religious persecution. Many Jewish people left east Europe for this reason.

However, a lot of people were simply attracted by the opportunities offered by life in such places as the United States, Canada, Australia and New Zealand. The Gold Rush years in North America and Australia triggered mass emigration from Europe as prospectors sought wealth beyond their wildest dreams.

The new emigrants’ gallery at Merseyside Maritime Museum looks at many different aspects of the trade that helped generate wealth in Liverpool for shipping companies, hotels and many other businesses.

A fascinating colour print shows the emigration of Russian Jews in 1891 (pictured). They are seen crowded on the deck of the Guion liner Wisconsin as she prepares to leave Liverpool.

Other exhibits are linked to the Gold Rush. A 19th century board game called A Race to the Gold Diggings has a box emblazoned with a colourful scene, tiny model sailing ships and a set of rules.

A contemporary poster advertises the Royal Charter emigrant steamer run by the Liverpool and Australian Navigation Company. Saloon passengers paid top prices of between 60 guineas (£63) and 75 guineas (£78.75) – around £4,500 in today’s money – for the voyage while Third Class paid between 16 and 20 guineas.

The Royal Charter met her cruel end in October 1859 when, heading for Liverpool, she was wrecked on the Anglesey coast with the loss of 498 lives. Exhibits include items from the wreck including a section of ornately-carved wood believed to be from the ship’s stern. There's more on the Royal Charter on our main site.

A new Maritime Tale by Stephen Guy appears every Saturday in the Liverpool Echo. A paperback – Mersey Maritime Tales (£3.99) – is available from the museum, newsagents, bookshops or from the Mersey Shop website (£1.50 p&p UK).

Model of RMS Mauretania

Throughout our lives chance can play a decisive part – perhaps I am tempting fate but I believe you can change the course of events. I do not subscribe to the theory that events follow a predestined path.

The following story, though, tests my credulity. It really looks as if this was all pre-ordained, not simply a German U-boat captain seeing his chance and ruthlessly taking it.

They were both hugely popular in Liverpool but one of the beautiful sisters was to have a tragic end while the other carried on until the close of her natural life.

The Lusitania and Mauretania were both built in 1907, the pride of the Cunard fleet. They were bigger, faster and more luxurious than any liners before them – but were soon eclipsed by other giants of the seas as the race to capture lucrative business became ever faster.

The two ships were the first express transatlantic liners fitted with steam turbines. Although more renowned for their luxurious elegance, they also carried many Third Class passengers emigrating to the USA on the Liverpool – New York route.

The 31,550-ton Lusitania had a successful career until she was torpedoed by a submarine in May 1915 while heading for Liverpool, with the loss of 1,201 lives.

There were plenty of famous people on board, many of whom died. The artistic world lost such talents as the playwright Charles Klein and the founder of Dublin Art Gallery Sir Hugh Lane.

The business world was devastated by the loss of leading moguls such as multi-millionaire Alfred Vanderbilt and Paul Crompton, a director of the Booth Steamship Co, who died along with his wife and six children.

Lusitania sank in just 18 minutes and there was a terrifying scramble for the boats, and many people were trapped below decks because of the speed of the sinking.

An etching by W L Wyllie in the new emigrants’ gallery at Merseyside Maritime Museum shows the Lusitania in the River Mersey shortly before the First World War.

A 1:6000 scale model depicts the Mauretania at the Princes Landing Stage in 1911 (pictured). Among other ships on the river are tugs, a paddle steamer, ferry boats and fishing craft.

Mauretania captured the coveted Blue Riband (westerly) in September 1909 when she crossed the Atlantic at an average speed of 26.06 knots – a record which lasted 20 years.

She served as both a troopship and hospital ship during the First World War before resuming passenger services. Mauretania was scrapped in 1935.

There's more on the Lusitania, including items recovered from the ship, on our main site.

Maritime Archvies has also put together an information sheet on the Lusitania. There are also sheets on the great transatlantic liners and the Cunard Line. 

A new Maritime Tale by Stephen Guy appears every Saturday in the Liverpool Echo. A paperback – Mersey Maritime Tales (£3.99) – is available from the museum, newsagents, bookshops or from the Mersey Shop website (£1.50 p&p UK).

An Illustrated London News image showing a Cunard ship leaving Liverpool in 1881

My great aunt married as a very young teenager in Malta (this was 100 years ago).

The child bride later settled in Knotty Ash after giving birth to three children in quick succession nicknamed Boy, Girl and Baby.

Girl became a GI bride in the Second World War and emigrated to the US with her new husband, leaving Boy and Baby behind. Years passed and Girl wrote to say she was coming home to Liverpool for a visit.

Boy and Baby and their families went to meet her at the Princes Landing Stage but when she came down the gangplank no-one recognised her. Girl had totally changed her appearance – and spoke with a strong American accent.

It is many people’s dream in the crowded cities of Europe to escape to the wide-open spaces of North America and enjoy a much-improved standard of living.

By the early 19th century Liverpool was well-placed to cater for the huge growth of the emigration trade to the United States and Canada.

As a result, Liverpool became Britain’s most important international passenger port for more than a century. During the period 1830 -1930 Liverpool was probably the greatest emigration port in world history, handling a stunning nine million passengers from as far away as Russia.

It was not until 1927, when transatlantic emigration was in decline, that Southampton finally surpassed Liverpool for international passenger traffic.

Liverpool-based shipping companies ran regular passenger services to every continent until the 1960s.

There are many displays at Merseyside Maritime Museum focusing on Liverpool’s passenger ships. An Illustrated London News image (pictured) depicts a Cunard ship leaving Liverpool in 1881. A photograph shows either the Cunard liner Carmania (or her sister Caronia) at the Princes Landing Stage on 2 June 1923.

Between 1800 and the1920s the busiest ocean travel route in the world was between the British Isles and North America.

From 1850 many emigrants also headed for Australia and other British colonies around the world. From 1900 more and more people became tourists and travelled the seas for pleasure rather than necessity.

In recent years, business and holidaymaking have been the main reasons for travel. A map shows the sea routes taken by British migrants between 1815 and 1930.

As a child in I remember people queuing up at New Zealand House in Liverpool for their £10 tickets to new lives. My friends, who lived next-door-but-one to me, took this huge step in 1958 and I remember everybody waving them off as the headed for Southampton.

Our Maritime Archives department has produced an information sheet for people wanting to learn more about Emigration to USA and Canada. The sheet gives a brief history of the route, information on searching for people who travelled, details of the shipping companies involved and the records we hold on those firms.

A new Maritime Tale by Stephen Guy appears every Saturday in the Liverpool Echo. A paperback – Mersey Maritime Tales (£3.99) – is available from the museum, newsagents, bookshops or from the Mersey Shop website (£1.50 p&p UK).

My postcard of the Republic

I sometimes go to postcard fairs and join the throngs of people leafing through piles of illustrated epistles mailed long ago with every sort of message and greeting. Each stall has cards sorted into themes and one of my favourites is ships and shipping. Recently I bought this card showing the Republic. I added it to my collection simply because I liked it, only later discovering the unique role this vessel once played.

One hundred years ago radio technology pioneered by Italian inventor Guglielmo Marconi and others became reality in saving lives at sea.

Two significant centenaries are being celebrated in 2009 – the first radio sea rescue and the award of the Nobel Prize in Physics to Marconi and Karl Ferdinand Braun for their contributions to the development of wireless telegraphy.

In the early hours of 23 January 1909 the 15,378-ton passenger liner Republic, owned by the Liverpool-based White Star Line, was steaming from New York to the Mediterranean with 742 passengers and crew. She entered thick fog off Nantucket Island, Massachusetts, and sounded her whistle 

Suddenly another whistle was heard directly in front of the ship. Republic’s engines were quickly thrown into reverse and her helm swung hard-a-port but then a ship’s bow loomed out of the fog and sliced into the Republic amidships.

As water poured into the disabled Republic’s engine and boiler rooms, radio operator Jack Binns wired his new Marconi set with backup batteries and sent out a distress signal using Morse Code – CQD, later replaced in popularity by SOS.

CQD is understood by wireless operators to mean All Stations: Distress (not Come Quick, Danger as is often thought).

The call was relayed to all ships in the area but the first ship on the scene was the Lloyd Italiano liner Florida – the ship that had crashed into the Republic. Passengers were transferred to the Florida, which was in no danger of sinking. Attempts by the captain and some crew members to save the Republic failed and she sank the day after the collision.

In Merseyside Maritime Museum’s Titanic, Lusitania and the Forgotten Empress gallery there are many Titanic-linked exhibits including the 20 ft long original builder’s model used to publicise the ship.

Both CQD and SOS were used by wireless operator Jack Phillips as the ship went down but it is a popular myth that this was the first time SOS was used. Phillips, who did not survive, and junior operator Harold Bride, who did, were employed by the Marconi International Marine Communication Company.

A new Maritime Tale by Stephen Guy appears every Saturday in the Liverpool Echo. A paperback – Mersey Maritime Tales (£3.99) – is available from the museum, newsagents, bookshops or from the Mersey Shop website (£1.50 p&p UK).

When I started work in 1966 on the Crosby Herald as a junior journalist the big local story was the container terminal planned for the north end of Liverpool docks.

There were protests from local residents who feared the area would be ruined by this new dock – now the Liverpool Freeport. Most of the opposition was on environmental grounds – little did people know how radically the port would be transformed by this project.

Models of the Inventor (shown) and Atlantic Causeway stand next to each other in the new Liverpool: World Gateway gallery in Merseyside Maritime Museum. The two ships were only built five years apart but they symbolised a seismic change in the way cargo was carried as container ships took over.

Model of The Inventor. Image courtesy Liverpool Daily Post and Echo.

The Inventor, built in 1964, was one of four heavy-lift cargo liners built for the Harrison Line. With their 180-ton lifting capacity derricks, these ships were built to carry machinery to developing countries.

The sudden rise of Roll On, Roll Off (RORO) ships and containerisation, plus changing trade patterns, shortened the lives of many ships like Inventor. In 1981 she was sold to Singaporean owners, renamed Penta World and scrapped in 1985.

Cargo containers had their origins in the 1780s carrying coal on canals and the first standardised container was introduced in the 1920s. The first purpose-built container ships started operating in Denmark in 1951. Over the following decades more and more operators adopted the system until by 1970 it was unstoppable.

The 15,000-ton Atlantic Causeway was a RORO container ship built in 1969 by Swan Hunter at Wallsend-on-Tyne.

In 1966 five major European shipping companies, including Cunard, joined together to form ACL. Their aim was to share the huge costs involved in building and operating a fleet of RORO container ships trading between Europe and North America.

For more than 30 years ACL, now based in Norway but with offices in Liverpool, has been a giant in the North Atlantic trade. Its ships still visit Liverpool every week and continue to dominate ports vital to the North Atlantic trade.

Atlantic Causeway and her younger sister Atlantic Conveyor were owned by Cunard, managed by Cunard Brocklebank and hired by ACL. In 1982 both ships were converted to carry aircraft and serve in the Falklands War. Conveyor was sunk after being hit by two Argentine Exocet missiles with the loss of 12 lives. Causeway returned home safely having played an important part in supporting the British Task Force.

A new Maritime Tale by Stephen Guy appears every Saturday in the Liverpool Echo. A paperback – Mersey Maritime Tales (£3.99) – is available from the museum, newsagents, bookshops or from the Mersey Shop website (£1.50 p&p UK).

I find graveyards and cemeteries fascinating places not only on a spiritual level but also as sources of stories – each stone bears testimony to lives, some detailed, some obscure.

While looking around Childwall’s ancient yard in Liverpool recently I stumbled across memorials to the Okill family. These were principled people because John Okill &Co were the only Africa merchants in Liverpool not engaged in the slave trade.

The impact of the slave trade on Africa was profound as it blighted progress in all aspects of life on the continent for many generations.

The transatlantic slave trade operated for almost 400 years, fuelled by Europe’s almost insatiable desire for sugar, cotton, tobacco and other products of the New World which were then regarded as luxuries.

Liverpool ships were a key part of the trade and the town became Europe’s leading slaving port in the second half of the 18th century.

At least 12 million Africans were forcibly transported by Britain and other countries but many millions more were profoundly affected. The transatlantic slave trade destroyed African societies, robbing them of young people.

A staggering two-thirds of enslaved people were young men aged between 15 and 25. They were in huge demand to work the booming plantations producing ever-growing quantities of crops.

Arms and ammunition brought to Africa by European traders helped perpetrate conflict and political instability.

Displays at the International Slavery Museum, in the Merseyside Maritime Museum building, focus on the consequences of the trade on Africa.

Successful trade routes that existed before European intervention were disrupted. The development of African communities and cultures was severely stunted. Agriculture suffered as communities abandoned fertile land as they fled the long reach of the European slavers.

The labour and inventiveness of enslaved peoples shaped the Americas and enriched Western European, rather than their African homelands.

Ships on the Niger expedition. Image courtesy Liverpool Daily Post and Echo

On display is a lithograph featuring ships on the 1841 Niger Expedition (pictured). Thomas Fowell Buxton was leader of the British anti-slavery movement in the post-slave trade era.

He urged the British government to make treaties with African leaders to abolish the slave trade. The expedition went to the Niger River delta to set up a headquarters and began negotiations. The party suffered so many deaths from disease that they had to return home.

There is a half model of the Balmore, bought by John Holt & Co in 1908. The Holt family was involved in the West Africa trade from the 1860s.

A new Maritime Tale by Stephen Guy appears every Saturday in the Liverpool Echo. A paperback – Mersey Maritime Tales (£3.99) – is available from the museum, newsagents, bookshops or from the Mersey Shop website (£1.50 p&p UK).

Image courtesy of the Liverpool Daily Post and Echo

I met the late Lord Sefton (1898 – 1972) several times walking around his country estate with his dogs in West Derby when I was a child out with my father. The 7th Earl was the last of the mighty Molyneux family who dominated Liverpool for centuries until merchants successfully challenged their power. After that they more or less retreated to their estates. I am involved in preserving their memory on the committee of the Friends of Croxteth Hall and Country Park supporting Liverpool’s own stately home.

Liverpool remained virtually the same size for hundreds of years – seven streets dominated by its medieval castle. For the first time the town started to grow quickly – and it was all down to ships bringing trade and prosperity in their wake. After the Civil War, when Charles I lost his crown and his head, big changes started happening in the growing port. The townspeople rebuilt their homes and their livelihoods while incoming entrepreneurs encouraged the expansion of trade.

A small group of wealthy merchants became the most important citizens and started to dominate the borough, setting a pattern that would continue into modern times. They believed Liverpool’s future success depended on its political freedom. The merchants resisted the influence of the nobility and landed gentry with few interests in trade. They refused to elect the local landowner Sir Edward Moore as either Mayor or the town’s MP in 1660. In 1668 they challenged Viscount Molyneux’s rights to land close to Liverpool. Their victory over him in 1672 gave the borough a large rental income.

In order to raise the £12,000 (£1.4 million today) needed to build the first dock in 1715, the merchants who controlled Liverpool Corporation mortgaged the whole town.

In 1799 alone Liverpool ships transported more than 45,000 enslaved Africans across the Atlantic. Between 1801 and 1901 Liverpool’s population mushroomed from 77,693 to 685,000 – an increase of almost 800%. An 1847 print (pictured) shows St George’s and Albert Docks on the busy waterfront as Liverpool boomed.

A new Maritime Tale by Stephen Guy appears every Saturday in the Liverpool Echo. A paperback – Mersey Maritime Tales (£3.99) – is available from the museum, newsagents, bookshops or from the Mersey Shop website (£1.50 p&p UK).

Staff Captain james Clarke Anderson. Image courtesy Liverpool Daily Post and Echo.

Some years ago I took my father to the Old Head of Kinsale in Ireland where we stayed in a remote hotel with superb views over the Irish Sea. Underneath the choppy, sunlit waters lay the twisted wreck of the Lusitania. Dad felt particularly sad because one of his earliest memories was seeing a mob attack a German baker’s shop in Liverpool after the sinking.

The destruction of the Cunard luxury liner by a German U-boat submarine sent shock waves around the world.

The disaster was one of the most horrific incidents at sea during the First World War (1914 – 18) and came as the ship was heading for Liverpool, a port where she was much-loved.

She was sent to the bottom on a bright sunny day. Early that year the German government declared that all Allied ships would be in danger of attack in British waters. Lusitania sailed from New York on 1 May 1915 with 1,962 people of board.

At 2.10 pm on 7 May the liner was struck by a torpedo fired by U-20. It blew a massive hole in Lusitania’s side and she sank in less than 20 minutes with the loss of 1,201 lives.

The sinking of this unarmed passenger ship caused international outrage and there were riots in Liverpool, London and other cities around the world.

The German government claimed that Lusitania was carrying military supplies and there is some evidence to support this. However, British and American inquiries later declared the sinking to be unlawful.

This event devastated the tightly-knit dockland communities in north Liverpool where most of Lusitania’s crew lived. A total of 404 crew members died, including many Liverpool Irish seamen.

A photo on display (pictured) shows Staff Captain James Clarke Anderson, the most senior Lusitania officer to die in the sinking. His body was returned to Liverpool and buried in Longmoor Lane Cemetery, Fazakerley.

The fascinating exhibition Titanic, Lusitania and the Forgotten Empress at Merseyside Maritime Museum looks at the tragedy. There are a number of items from the ship with stories behind them

There is a lifebuoy from the Lusitania – a rare survivor of the sinking.

Captain William Turner, from Crosby, survived after struggling for three hours in the sea. The British government tried to blame him for loss of his ship but he was cleared of any wrong-doing by the official inquiry. A picture on display shows him on deck.

The Maritime Archives and Library also hold a lot of relevant material about the Lusitania. You can read more online with information sheet number 42: RMS Lusitania.

A new Maritime Tale by Stephen Guy appears every Saturday in the Liverpool Echo. A paperback – Mersey Maritime Tales (£3.99) – is available from the museum, newsagents, bookshops or from the Mersey Shop website (£1.50 p&p UK).

Dockers. Copyright Stephen Shakeshaft

With just over a week to go until the exhibition 'Liverpool People by Stephen Shakeshaft' opens at the National Conservation Centre, here's another photo from his archive that didn't quite make it into the exhibition. Stephen took many photos of the dockers during his career as picture editor and chief photographer of the Liverpool Daily Post and Echo, and remembers that they were real characters:

"They provided the backbone to the city and its commerce. They also provided the material for the jokes of Liverpool comedians. They were very suspicious of a man with a camera. 'Don't take my picture, lad - take his - he has his makeup on!' Whoever sold caps went out of business when the dockers went. Walking around Canada Dock you had to keep your eyes skinned and spend as much time looking up as concentrating on your subject; 'Watch your 'ead, lad'.

I covered dockers' strikes and pickets, I was there when they received their redundancy notices and when they realised their jobs were gone - replaced by the container monsters of Seaforth.

All dockers had nicknames which fitted their personality or character such as 'Stanley Matthews' who, on the unloading of a crate, would always say 'I'll take the corner'."

A ship's crew is inspected for disease. Image courtesy Liverpool Daily Post and Echo.

I admit to being wary of catching infections and take the precaution of washing my hands whenever possible. Other useful safeguards are adding disinfectant to the bath water and gargling with mouthwash. It was impressed on me at a very early age the awful things you can catch – especially when travelling. I caught TB as a child but threw it off – a natural immunity, I was told later.

Passengers and crews of ships have always feared outbreaks of contagious diseases that could sweep through vessels like wildfire, affecting everybody’s safety and wellbeing. The words typhus, cholera, yellow fever, smallpox and plague were enough to chill the bones of the most seasoned traveller.

It was the same on shore when epidemics swept through crowded poorly-housed communities, killing old and young alike. But on land you could at least get away to somewhere healthy – not an option on a crowded ship where there was no escape.

There is still the ever-present threat of contagions being brought into Britain. Cargoes which might carry disease are handed over to Government officials. They may be placed in isolation or quarantine for further investigation.

Historically, Customs officers played a vital role in preventing the spread of contagious diseases. This is illustrated in a display in the exciting new exhibition, Seized: Revenue and Customs Uncovered at Merseyside Maritime Museum. A photo shows a ship’s crew members being inspected by Liverpool’s medical officer around 1925 (pictured).

A painting called A Revenue Cutter on the Clyde by Robert Salmon (1826) depicts the cutter approaching a newly-arrived vessel to check for diseases. The cutter flies a signal flag from the mast which asks: “Are you healthy?”

In the 19th century the arrival of migrants in the UK brought the danger of contagious diseases. A ship’s master was required by Customs officers to swear on the Bible as to the condition of his ship. If it was healthy, he would be issued with a certificate and cleared to enter port.

A photo shows a young smallpox sufferer covered with pustules, particularly on her face, hands and arms. Smallpox was a scourge which killed and disfigured countless people over the ages - in the 20th century alone up to 500 million died from it.

There have been more than 100 disease outbreaks associated with ships since 1970, according to the World Health Organisation. Today the main infections associated with ships are gastrointestinal and Legionnaires’ diseases.

A new Maritime Tale by Stephen Guy appears every Saturday in the Liverpool Echo. A paperback – Mersey Maritime Tales (£3.99) – is available from the museum, newsagents, bookshops or from the Mersey Shop website (£1.50 p&p UK).

Image courtest Liverpool Daily Post and Echo.

I always relish the anticipation of travelling – it is enjoyable to plan your journey and visualise what you will see and do. It is wonderful that many people can now travel relatively cheaply for pleasure. Once people stayed put and only journeyed out of absolute necessity.

In the early days of mass emigration many travellers probably thought of their approaching voyages with dread. It was often an exhausting ordeal just getting to your embarkation port and successfully boarding a ship.

Emigration was boosted by steamship development and by the 1870s most emigrants travelled this way rather than by sail. Steam power at sea – like the railways on land – made journeys quicker and also led to regular reliable timetable services. No longer did passengers have to cope with many delays mostly caused by bad weather.

In the second half of the 19th century, shipping companies such as White Star, Cunard, Allan, Inman, Guion and National ran regular services out of Liverpool. They took trade from the American sailing packet services, bringing money and business to the port. Importantly for the benefit of emigrants, they brought competition. Fares and charges were driven down as the shipping companies fought to attract business.

Publicity was often focused on First Class as the liners developed and became more luxurious. However, emigrant passengers provided the bread-and-butter profits for the shipping companies.

In the winter some rooms were now heated, unheard of in the days of wooden sailing ships where accommodation was invariably cold and wet.

On shore, appalling conditions experienced by emigrants gave cause for concern and moves were made to relieve their plight.

In the new emigrants’ gallery at Merseyside Maritime Museum there is a contemporary print of a Government-funded emigration depot (pictured). It was opened in Birkenhead in 1852 for British emigrants heading for Australia. The depot provided meals, warm shelter and safety until its closure in 1868 when general conditions for emigrants had improved.

The accommodation which the depot offered helped to increase sailings from Liverpool and shipowners competed for lucrative Government contracts. In the depot you had to behave and follow the rules.

Liverpool-based Thomas Ismay’s White Star Line (Oceanic Steam Navigation Company) become one of the major transatlantic emigration operators which later built the Titanic.

On display are several items which saw daily use on emigrant ships. There are large coffee and tea pots embossed with the famous White Star flag. A soup ladle was made for the Guion Line in 1871.

Our Maritime Archives and Library have information on firms involved in emigration. There's more on the experiences of emigrants in our 'Leaving from Liverpool' feature.

A new Maritime Tale by Stephen Guy appears every Saturday in the Liverpool Echo. A paperback – Mersey Maritime Tales (£3.99) – is available from the museum, newsagents, bookshops or from the Mersey Shop website (£1.50 p&p UK).

A hogshead barrel at Merseyside Maritime Museum. Image courtesy Liverpool Daily Post and Echo.

The Beatles’ song 'Being for the benefit of Mr Kite' is particularly evocative for me because of the seaside fairground memories it conjures up. I think the organ sounds create images of garish 1950s roundabouts and hot dog stands. John Lennon’s words were inspired by a 19th century poster but the musical arrangement is pure New Brighton.

John would have visited Liverpool’s own seaside resort on a ferry across the Mersey where his senses would have been bombarded with the sights, sounds and smells of the fairground surrounding the Tower Ballroom.

The Beatles sang about Mr Kite challenging the world with his act featuring acrobats, the Hendersons, leaping through “a hogshead of real fire”.

A tobacco hogshead on display at Merseyside Maritime Museum (pictured) makes you appreciate the bravery of the Hendersons.

This huge round barrel is more than four feet tall and about the same diameter. It was found in the Albert Dock warehouses – now housing the museum – where tobacco was stored on arrival (there's more on the history of the dock and it's warehouses on our main site).

Although today most goods within Britain travel by road and rail, ships carry some cargoes between British ports. In particular, it can be more convenient and profitable to use ships for goods carried in large quantities such as petrol and aviation fuel.

Two hundred years ago, before proper roads and railways, it was often easier and cheaper to carry goods by sea or on rivers and canals.

There are exhibition models of coastal vessels in the museum’s Life at Sea gallery. The three-masted Liberty and Property was built in Whitby in 1752.

One of the largest coastal trades in the 1700s and 1800s was carrying coals from Newcastle and other ports in the north east of England to London. The expression “Carrying coals to Newcastle” means a pointless action. There was a huge demand for coal in London and south east England, mainly as a household fuel.

A modern coastal vessel is the Mersey Fisher which was added to the fleet of James Fisher & Co in 1998. She carries liquid petrochemicals to ports in the UK and north west Europe. The model was commissioned with the generous support of the Sir John Fisher Foundation as a reminder of the firm’s long association with the port of Liverpool.

Among the museum’s ship collection housed on the Historic Quaysides is the De Wadden, an auxiliary schooner based in Arklow, Eire, from 1921 to 1961. She was the last sailing ship to trade in and out of the Mersey.

A new Maritime Tale by Stephen Guy appears every Saturday in the Liverpool Echo. A paperback – Mersey Maritime Tales (£3.99) – is available from the museum, newsagents, bookshops or from the Mersey Shop website (£1.50 p&p UK).

Cpt Henry Saalmans OBE. Image courtesy Liverpool Daily Post and Echo

I prefer the cold to the heat – at least you can usually escape into the warmth when temperatures plunge. It is more difficult to get away from excessive heat. However, those who were on the Arctic convoys in the Second World War endured the dual hardships of battling both the enemy and the cold.

More than 100 Allied merchant ships on Arctic Ocean convoys were sent to the bottom by the Germans during a four-year period. Between June 1941 and May 1945 one in every 20 Allied ships (a total of 104) sailing to and from north Russia was sunk.

These figures are comparable with the worst annual sinking rates for 1942 for the much more numerous North Atlantic convoys during the war. The cost of the Russian convoys to the Royal Navy was also high. Among the 22 ships it lost were the cruisers Edinburgh and Trinidad. The German navy lost four surface warships and 31 U-boat submarines.

On both sides casualty rates among crews were often even higher than in the Atlantic due to the bitterly cold Arctic weather. In mid-September 1942 the strongly-protected convoy PQ18 lost one third of its merchant ships (13 out of 39) to German aircraft and U-boats.

Just two months earlier the disastrous PQ17 had lost two-thirds (24 out of 35). The main damage to both convoys had been caused by aircraft. The switching of many of these aircraft to other theatres of war led to much lower losses on later Arctic convoys.

On display in the Battle of the Atlantic gallery in Merseyside Maritime Museum is a picture showing a convoy PQ18 ammunition ship exploding after being attacked by aircraft.

There are wartime mementos of Liverpool-born Captain Henry Saalmans OBE (pictured). He was master of the 3,000-ton Empire Bard which sailed in convoy to Russia in March 1942.

After surviving heavy air attacks, Empire Bard arrived at Murmansk on 6 May. For the next 10 months, in the absence of cargo-handling equipment on shore, she used her own deck cranes to help Allied merchant ships to unload their cargoes.

By the end of her stay in Murmansk, despite being damaged several times by air attacks, she had handled a mammoth 27,000 tons of war supplies for Russia. Captain Saalmans was awarded the Order of the British Empire and the Lloyd’s War medal for his efforts.

Exhibits include these medals along with his sheepskin coat lining worn on Arctic convoys.

A new Maritime Tale by Stephen Guy appears every Saturday in the Liverpool Echo. A paperback – Mersey Maritime Tales (£3.99) – is available from the museum, newsagents, bookshops or from the Mersey Shop website (£1.50 p&p UK).

When they handling team say they're moving houses they usually mean literally!

As I've mentioned many times before, there's never a dull moment for the handling and transport team. Since I last reported on their activities they have safely transported a huge variety of objects from our collections, including ship models, paintings, a stained glass window and some Hindu Gods (well, sculptures of them, anyway). Some have been moved from storage to the conservation studios for treatment and back again, other objects have been gone on or off display and a few have ben loaned to other organisations.

Some of the more unusual jobs have involved taking a whole rack of uniforms to the conservation freezer to treat a possible insect infestation and weighing weapons from the collection in order to determine the floor loadings of planned displays in the new Museum of Liverpool.

On a rare break from work a few weeks ago the team had a sneak preview of the new galleries currently under construction at the Museum of Liverpool. They were all impressed by the scale and design of the building. However in the back of their minds I'm sure they were all thinking the same thing - they'll have their work cut out installing all of the many objects in this huge building in time for the opening.

You can see what they've been up to in the Moving stories Flickr set of photos.

The Hawkhurst Gang. The text beneath the image reads: Galley and Chater falling off their Horse at Woodash, draggs thier Heads on the Ground, while the Horse kicks them as he goes; the Smugglers still continuing thier brutish usage.

When I was at primary school in the 1950s we used to enjoy singing the popular Smugglers’ Song with words by Rudyard Kipling:

Five and twenty ponies
Trotting through the dark –
Brandy for the Parson,
Tobacco for the Clerk:
Laces for a lady; letters for a spy,
And watch the wall my darling, while the Gentlemen go by!

Running round the woodpile if you chance to find
Little barrels, roped and tarred, all full of brandy wine;
Don’t you shout to come and look, nor take them for your play;
Put the brushwood back again – and they’ll be gone next day!

It is a song that races along but embraces a popular myth masking the brutal reality behind smuggling. It is true that gangs of smugglers operated right along the coast with whole communities involved.

However, sickening violence could be used by smugglers driven by greed, poverty and lack of employment. Customs men often assisted by soldiers, used counter-measures which were both brutal and harsh, including the death penalty.

It was not until the 1840s with the introduction of free trade and the reduction of excise duties that smuggling was reduced.

The Hawkhurst Gang of Sussex smugglers was notoriously violent in the era of highwaymen and pirates. In 1748 gang member Daniel Chater was arrested by Customs officer William Galley and turned informer.

When both men were captured by other members of the gang Galley was beaten, tied to his horse and had his nose cut off. Chater was hung down a well and stoned to death.

The stark reality of the lives of smugglers past and present is revealed in the new Merseyside Maritime Museum gallery Seized: Revenue & Customs Uncovered.

On display in Seized is a contemporary print showing the two men hung upside down while they are whipped by gang members. Another shows Chater being thrust down the well.

In 1785 it was discovered that most of the fishing fleet in Deal, Kent, was involved in smuggling. The fishermen were desperate to earn a living. Every vessel was burnt to ashes on the orders of the Prime Minister William Pitt, who was just 26.

Exhibits include weapons used by smugglers and Customs officers – a blunderbuss, musket, pistols, swords and cutlasses. You can see some of them here.

A smugglers’ lantern has a spout which directed a beam of light to avoid detection. A sinking stone was used to secure smuggled casks to the seabed while a grappling hook was used by smugglers to retrieve their contraband. 

A new Maritime Tale by Stephen Guy appears every Saturday in the Liverpool Echo. A paperback – Mersey Maritime Tales (£3.99) – is available from the museum, newsagents, bookshops or from the Mersey Shop website (£1.50 p&p UK).

Model of the SS Gallia. Image courtesy Liverpool Daily Post and Echo

One of my older relatives used to joke that you should not bathe too often because hot water removes the skin’s natural oils. I’m all for keeping clean but some people overdo it and this can be very wasteful in a world that needs water.

However, I would not like to go on a long journey without having the opportunity to bathe but this was hardly the situation on most passenger ships in Victorian times, for example.

Competition to capture business during the emigration boom through Liverpool spurred shipping companies to create better facilities for travellers.

The arrival of large steam liners meant that services could keep to publicised timetables and schedules. This was a huge improvement on sailing ships which were at the mercy of wind and weather.

Cunard’s transatlantic passenger liner Gallia of 1879 was a beautiful ship built during the transitory period when steam was still supplemented by sail.

There is a superb builder’s-style model of the Gallia in the new emigrants’ gallery in Merseyside Maritime Museum (pictured).

The 430-foot long Gallia was one of the steamships that brought new standards of safety and comfort to the North Atlantic emigrant trade. She spent most of her career on the Liverpool to New York and Boston run.

Gallia could carry 300 first class passengers in luxurious (for the time) two-berth cabins plus 1,200 steerage (third class) passengers along with 2,000 tons of cargo.

She had both engines and sails and her captain used sail whenever possible. Two new features were an improved main saloon which took up the full 42 feet of the ship’s width along with steam-powered steering.

Despite all these luxuries and improvements, Gallia was fitted with only two baths for the entire ship. You can read more on SS Gallia on our main site.

About nine million people emigrated through Liverpool in the period 1830 to 1930 making it probably the biggest emigration port in world history.

Few of these emigrants, who came from many parts of northern Europe including Russia, recorded their experiences in Liverpool.

Dirk van den Bergh and his large family emigrated from Holland, via Liverpool, to Canada in 1906. He wrote a diary about his journey - audio extracts are available for museum visitors to listen to, or you can listen to some here.

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Dirk writes: “We went into the centre of Liverpool – what a busy place and what traffic! If you could imagine Liverpool without fog and smoke it would be really impressive city. It streams with many emigrants.”

There is more on the emigrant experience in our Leaving From Liverpool online feature.

A new Maritime Tale by Stephen Guy appears every Saturday in the Liverpool Echo. A paperback – Mersey Maritime Tales (£3.99) – is available from the museum, newsagents, bookshops or from the Mersey Shop website (£1.50 p&p UK).

There is a buzz of excitement here at National Museums Liverpool as the momentum builds towards the opening of the International Slavery Museum. You may have heard already, that the Freedom Schooner Amistad, that set sail from Haven, Connecticut, USA on 21st June,  arrived on UK shores yesterday and will be docking in Liverpool on Sunday 19th August, in time for the opening of the International Slavery Museum. Amistad is a replica of the original ship that was commandeered by African captives in 1839, which is why the arrival in Liverpool has been planned to coincide with UNESCO Slavery Remembrance Day and the opening of the new museum.