The Horrible History of the Harry Celeste

from the storytelling of Sid Kipper

It all happened one dark, foggy night at sea.  And the person it happened to was my great Uncle, Albert Kipper.  Young Albert, as he was then called (although later in life he changed his name to Old Albert) was serving as a deck hand on the Harry Celeste.  That was good going, because he'd only started out three months before as ships cat.

Now the Harry Celeste was a sort of brother ship to the Marie Celeste.  Well no, it was more a sort of opposite to the Marie Celeste.  I don't know if you know the story of the Marie Celeste, but when they found her all the tables were nicely laid out for meal, but there was nobody there to eat it.  Well, on the Harry Celeste there was loads of people who wanted to eat it, but nobody wanted to lay the table!

Now they'd put out from Yarmouth with a cargo of coal, bound for Newcastle.  That weren't easy sailing in them days, because you was at the mercy of the winds, and the tides.  Plus, you was also at the mercy of the ships officers, who weren't up to a lot.  You see half of them was young men who'd been sent off to sea by their fathers, for falling in love with unsuitable young women.  And the other half was unsuitable young women, dressed up as men, going after them.  So all in all they didn't know enough about ships to make a pair of sailor's trousers.

Anyhow, on this particular night they were becalmed off Scratby, in a terrible fog.  Night, after night she lay there in that fog.  Night, after night there was no breath of a wind.  Night, after night there was not a sound to be heard.  What happened during the days I don't know, because Albert was on permanent nights.

That was his job to sit up for'ard and sound the fog horn every five minutes.  So, for hour after hour Albert honked into the fog, but answer come there none.

Then, all of a sudden, a strange ship hoved slowly into view, and Albert felt his face go white, and he heard his fresh creep.  The ship that was hoving into view was in a terrible state.  The rigging was all torn, and the sheets hadn't been changed for weeks.  There was sea-weed growing on it, and it shone all over with a ghastly hue - and I don't mean Ghastly Hugh who used to live in Gimingham.

Anyhow, this ship kept hoving closer, and closer, and closer still, until Albert was sure there'd be a collision - and if he was any judge that'd be between the two ships.  He was so frightened that he couldn't bear to look.

So we'll never know what happened!

Copyright Chris Sugden 1991