nd rather
luckless. The largest merchantman ever built at that time in the United
States was launched at Quincy in 1789 to rival the towering ships of the
British East India Company. This Massachusetts created a sensation.
Her departure was a national event. She embodied the dreams of Captain
Randall and of the Samuel Shaw who had gone as supercargo in the Empress
of China. They formed a partnership and were able to find the necessary
capital.

This six-hundred-ton ship loomed huge in the ayes of the crowds which
visited her. She was in fact no larger than such four-masted coasting
schooners as claw around Hatteras with deck-loads of Georgia pine or
fill with coal for down East, and manage it comfortably with seven or
eight men for a crew. The Massachusetts, however, sailed in 411 the
old-fashioned state and dignity of a master, four mates, a purser,
surgeon, carpenter, gunner, four quartermasters, three midshipmen, a
cooper, two cooks, a steward, and fifty seamen. The second officer was
Amasa Delano, a man even more remarkable than the ship, who wandered far
and wide and wrote a fascinating book about his voyages, a classic of
its kind, the memoirs of an American merchant mariner of a breed long
since extinct.

While the Massachusetts was fitting out at Boston, one small annoyance
ruffled the auspicious undertaking. Three different crews were signed
before a full complement could be persuaded to tarry in the forecastle.
The trouble was caused by a fortune-teller of Lynn, Moll Pitcher by
name, who predicted disaster for the ship. Now every honest sailor knows
that certain superstitions are gospel fact, such as the bad luck brought
by a cross-eyed Finn, a black cat, or going to sea on Friday, and
these eighteenth century shellbacks must not be too severely chided for
deserting while they had the chance. As it turned out, the voyage did
have a sorry ending and death overtook an astonishingly large number of
the ship's people.

Though she had been designed and built by master craftsmen of New
England who knew their trade surpassingly well, it was discovered when
the ship arrived at Canton that her timbers were already rotting. They
were of white oak which had been put into her green instead of properly
seasoned. This blunder wrecked the hopes of her owners. To cap it, the
cargo of masts and spars had also been stowed while wet and covered
with mud and ice, and the hatches had been battened. As a result the
air became s