National Museums Liverpool Blog - transport

Crowds see off the Lucania. Image courtesy Liverpool Daily Post and Echo.

It is unlikely that we will ever see the likes of this ship again because she was very much a product of the age which inspired her.

I find it difficult to imagine what it would have been like travelling on such a vessel. The reactions of the passengers and crew can only be guessed when they first saw her amazing interiors.

The beautiful Cunard liner Lucania offered the most luxurious First Class facilities  available to Victorian travellers.

She and her sister Campania were the embodiments of late 19th century opulence. The high quality and attention to detail were sea-going reflections of the confident and prosperous late Victorian era and would never really be matched on any other ships.

Although the predominant style was Art Nouveau, the top-paying passengers could relax in surroundings reflecting other golden ages of the past. For example, the forward First Class entrance hall was in the French Renaissance style.

The Lucania’s top public rooms and en-suite upper deck staterooms were mostly heavily panelled in the finest woods with thick carpets and velvet curtains muffling intrusive sounds. The finest room was probably the Italian-style First Class dining saloon with a coffered ceiling rising three decks to a skylight.

There was a novelty in the Elizabethan First Class smoking room – the first open fireplace ever fitted on a passenger liner. This was truly a home-from-home on the ocean wave.

In Merseyside Maritime Museum there is brief and tantalising film footage from 1901 showing Lucania at Liverpool’s landing stage. Crowds in Victorian finery wave enthusiastically to friends and loved ones.

There is no foreboding of the sad end that would befall this popular vessel just eight years later in a nearby dock.

Both the Lucania and Campania had the largest triple-expansion engines fitted on Cunard ships.The two ships were partially financed by the British Admiralty, no doubt because of justifiable fears of impending war. Cunard also had to agree that the ships go on the naval reserve list to serve as armed merchant cruisers if necessary.

Lucania thankfully never went to war. Following the arrival of the super liners Lusitania and Mauretania, Cunard decided she was no longer needed. Laid up in Huskisson Dock, she partially sank after being badly damaged by fire on 14 August 1909.

Lucania was sold for scrap and the beautiful interiors that had escaped the flames were sold to the highest bidder.

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).

Yesterday's edition of Flog It! came from Liverpool and included some behind the scenes peeks at the Museum of Liverpool.  Host, Paul Martin, took a tour of the building with building operations manager, Martin Hemmings (who took most of the shots on the museum's Flickr set), and chatted with transport curator, Sharon Brown, in the Liverpool Overhead Railway carriage.

The episode is available on the BBC iplayer until the evening of Monday 7 December.

The Wanderer. Image courtesy Liverpool Daily Post and Echo.

I like this story because I have kept diaries and holiday logs like the boy who wrote about the Wanderer.

Personal accounts are of great importance as they help future generations understand earlier eras. I believe not many personal narratives will survive from today because few people record their experiences in any depth.

The 19th century left a rich legacy because so much was recorded in minute detail, from records of meetings and speeches to long business and private letters on every subject. Newspapers and magazines were crammed with articles skilfully crafted to answer every query.

A 14-year-old apprentice left a remarkable account of the maiden voyage of the Wanderer, one of the last sailing ships built in Liverpool – a beautiful vessel that brought bad luck in her wake.

The captain died in a raging storm on that first voyage in 1891 and just 16 years later – following numerous unsettling incidents - the Wanderer sank after being rammed by a German liner.

The boy’s name was H Watson and a section of his detailed log is on display alongside a fine 1: 100 scale model of the Wanderer in Merseyside Maritime Museum.

Watson gives details of the death of Captain George Currie and several other incidents which blighted the initial voyage.

Captain Currie died less than two days out of Liverpool heading for San Francisco:

“It was near midnight and the captain was on the poop (the raised stern deck) firing rockets as signals of distress. While thus engaged he was struck by the skysail yard (a wooden spar used to suspend a sail) and knocked down on deck insensible.

“The second mate was first to see him and he, along with the third mate and steward, got him into his room. He lay insensible until 4 o’clock on Monday morning and then expired.”

The Wanderer was a four-masted barque built by W H Potter & Sons at Queens Dock, Liverpool, At 309 ft long and displacing nearly 3,000 tons, Wanderer was said at that time to be the biggest sailing ship ever built.

John Masefield, a former seafarer who trained on HMS Conway in Liverpool, was fascinated by the ship. His first book after being appointed Poet Laureate in 1930 was called The Wanderer of Liverpool. Wanderer’s end came in1907 while she was at anchor in the River Elbe. She was sunk by the Gertrud Woermann in 24 ft of water but thankfully this time no-one died.

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).

Presenter, Paul Martin, and I at the Albert Dock

My appearance on the popular BBC 2 afternoon auction show Flog It! was broadcast on Wednesday – recorded on the Albert Dock with presenter Paul Martin.

It was shot back in April when the crew spent the day at three separate locations. My main role was setting up and supervising the BBC’s visit. The six minutes of screen time took almost three hours, including setting up the camera and getting the angles right.

Our picture shows Paul and I with the Merseyside Maritime Museum in the background - the chap in the front holds an enormous collapsible reflector which aims to literally put us in the best possible light.

You can watch the full show on the BBC iplayer. It's available until 4.29pm this Wednesday (18 November).

There was a script of sorts but the director stressed this was only meant as a guide – obviously with takes from different angles there had to be continuity. Some wasn’t used, including a close-up of my hand affectionately patting one of the huge cast iron columns.

In between takes, Paul told me that he started out as a professional musician and became involved in Flog It! through his interest in antiques. I shared some memories of the TV shows I watched as a child. They were always live and anything could – and did – go wrong.

I vividly remember two major stars on separate occasions suffering the indignity of their false teeth slipping,  watched by millions of viewers.

I’m a big fan of the Flog It!, when I can see it, and also The Antiques Roadshow on which I appeared recently talking about some 1960s films discovered at Lowlands community centre, West Derby, Liverpool.

I last appeared on Flog It! about five years ago doing a three-minute tour of the Lady Lever Art Gallery with one of the programme’ specialists, Kate Bliss. We did it in our stocking feet because of the echoes from the polished floors.

Flog It! is an in-house BBC production and takes a lot of careful preparation to bring to the screen.

The rest of the National Museums Liverpool footage is scheduled to be screened at 3.45 pm on Monday 30 November, focusing on the stunning new Museum of Liverpool on the city’s waterfront.

The show visits our workshops where some of the museum’s fabulous exhibits are being conserved. Paul interviews land transport curator Sharon Brown in a carriage from the legendary Overhead Railway.

Also featured are the Lion steam locomotive, star of the Ealing comedy classic The Titfield Thunderbolt, and the first Ford Anglia off the assembly line at Ford’s new Halewood factory in 1963.

The feature ends at the Museum of Liverpool where operations manager Martin Hemmings takes Paul on a hard-hat tour of the magnificent building.

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).

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).

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).

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).

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).