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After receiving a completion certificate from his blacksmith mentor in Kirkwall, JOHN packed up his belongings in the springtime of 1848. Possessing a sterling letter of introduction authored by Orphir dominie (schoolmaster) John Brass and co-endorsed by John Spence, he said good-bye to his family, his friends, and his young sweetheart in Orkney. In late April, JOHN gathered his luggage to board a sailing ship, bound for better fortunes on the mighty Atlantic's opposite shore. Brisk ocean breezes sweeping over the restless waters of the Atlantic would bulge the huge canvas segments stretching outward from horizontal yardarms which were stacked upward across the foremast, the mainmast, and the mizzenmast of a square-rigged clipper gliding under full sail. Five enormous sections of linen could be brought into function on each mast, making a total of 15 giant wind-catchers to complement a significant number of smaller sails. A few months cruising the briny deep made a deckhand very familiar with every sail's purpose and with every rope controlling a respective part of the complex. With a focus toward the pre-determined destination, every able-bodied seaman ultimately learned all the practical factors necessary to help navigate over the motion of the ocean. All the while, the good ship would rock and roll, and toss and pitch, and creak and groan, the son-of-a-gun. While a big ocean cruiser under sail tacked back and forth in its zigzag effort to reach a distant port, in differing proportions every vulnerable soul aboard was at the mercy of a very similar set of fates. However, on the other hand, the ship's company had to perform, while the others were required only to conform. One fellow-passenger might seem unceasingly respectful and good-natured, while another could quickly become surly. Sleeping in a hammock was a novel experience for many seagoing travelers. Along with routine inconveniences, there were occasional sicknesses and physical emergencies with which to cope. If the restrictive living quarters were cramped, or whether the passenger's stored personal effects weren't regularly accessible, the necessary rationing of food and water invariably remained a solid concern in order to last out the lengthy duration of a voyage. Their speed of progression depended upon however the wind blew. Sometimes the boat merely bobbed along, then on other days it surged swiftly in cutting a feather (as Orkney folks might normally describe the pronounced ripples of water breaking from the bow of a fast ship). Occasionally an alarming blanket of darkened clouds spawning lightning bolts could appear a thousand or more miles from land, accompanied by the rush of a powerful gale blasting with unbound force and fury all around the ship's path. A helpless multitude of cold and damp passengers onboard any bouncing wind-blown rain-soaked vessel were naturally frightened for their own personal safety, so remotely isolated from the remainder of civilization and knowing very well that a severe storm at sea could certainly prove to be life-threatening. Unlike the true sailor boasting of saltwater in his veins, average ocean travelers might soon tire of the unique adventure, and start a premature yearning for good old terra firma. Even on sunshiny days the sky and sea seemed to blend into a monotonous greyness. Having endured the entire bleak month of May upon heaving bluish-grey seas, without observing the leafy springtime greenery of trees growing skyward in grassy meadows sprinkled with wildflowers, nor seeing even the slightest fragment of land, JOHN happily arrived as a stranger in his new country on Friday, June 9, 1848. The young Scot was permitted once again to walk upon solid ground, encountering an unconventional scene at the port of New York City with peculiar people having odd accents in their unusual speech. Amongst the numerous vessels along the docks of the East River and the Hudson was a sailing ship which had pulled into the harbor just yesterday. That specific boat which had come from Palermo, Italy, had been christened with an extraction of American Indian words meaning "flat water," but its name held no apparent significance for JOHN at this time. 15 years would pass before he would find a compelling attraction in the designation Nebraska, presently discernible upon the hull of the moored ocean vessel. Beside the edge of New York harbor, JOHN soon arranged means for further travel through the countryside and beyond the border of New York state, leaving the unsettling commotion of the bustling city behind him. |
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