SIXTEEN DANGEROUS VOYAGES: THE BARQUE JEANIE JOHNSON IN DUBLIN HARBOUR.

Story by James Hart.

Statues on Dublin quayside commemorate the victims of the 1847 Famine. 

The appalling conditions of coffin ships was documented by one Robert Whyte, a passenger and journalist who, in his book ‘The Journey of an Irish Coffin Ship’  (1847) wrote of the desperation: of emigres denied food, clean water and medical attention – indeed, typhus, dysentery and starvation were part of the sometimes fifty percent mortality rate of each ship.

Rats and fleas were present thereby exacerbating more disease, whilst sharks regularly followed the ship for bodies tossed overboard.

Few passengers were forewarned of the raging epidemics in primitive sleeping quarters, but Whyte noted that even cattle were given food and water on ships’ passage, and concluded this terrible toll was due to an indifferent British government overlooking the practices of corrupt shipowners and captains.

So corrupt that had 1847 been an era of open media as of today, perhaps famine victims might have decided staying in Ireland a better option.

Anyway, back to the Jeanie Johnson which was a vessel run by a humanitarian captain and owner with the presence of a doctor aboard.

As noted, the ship was clean and well-run; indeed, it seemed the emphasis on sanitation pioneered in Captain James Cook’s voyages a century earlier stood them in good stead.

But still astonishing in making comparison to coffin-ships is that this ship made sixteen trans-Atlantic voyages to Quebec, Baltimore and New York and, at no time lost one single passenger.

She certainly had a schedule, sailing with passengers and returning homeward-bound with much-needed timber.

So busy that the local newspaper commented:

Day after day our quays are crowded with people seeking American ships, and no sooner is a ship’s departure for that prosperous land announced than she is filled.

(The Chronicle and Munster Advertiser, March 1847).

The ship’s home port was Tralee, Co Kerry; convenient on two counts: firstly, it was close by many of Ireland’s famine-impoverished counties of the West, and secondly, it was distant from Dublin away from the prying eyes of the British government – although facts imply that the emigrant ships were callously seen by London as a solution to the problem.

A berth on the Jeanie Johnson cost £3:80 (around two thousand euro in today’s prices), but as large families were the norm €2k multiplied several times was prohibitive.

Many chose to sign-up to indentured Canadian labour contracts on arrival – often for seven years – to pay off the cost such was their abject poverty.

Once aboard, a three-quarter size bunk aboard the ship would be occupied by five people out of a 230 maximum.

So the 46 bunks were double-stacked, and as any experienced merchant seaman knows, it’s always best to go for the lower mainly for ease of access.

Of the Jeanie Johnson bunks however, the opposite was true – unless of course a person in the lower didn’t mind being covered in vomit (most passengers had never seen the ocean before, let alone sailed the North Atlantic).

And despite the shipshape efforts, the voyage lasting six weeks would often see green seas, sewage and bilge water washing into the accommodation.

On the plus side, the JJ voyages were made in spring and summer, whereas some of the coffin ships sailed out in wintertime gales over the North Atlantic with tragic consequences.

The passengers would have plenty to talk about including the fact that despite the Famine, food such as meat, grain, butter and vegetables was still being exported overseas.

And that people living in Dublin had plenty to eat.

Most were bored with the long voyage, but in spite of their emancipated state were willing to lend a hand with shipboard chores.

But it appears that the captain James Attridge was the star of the show.

First, he didn’t overload the ship. For sure, conditions down below were crowded but he signed a doctor on board to deal with ailments.

Secondly, the emigres received adequate food even if much was cornmeal, molasses and bread – even these were unobtainable on most coffin ships.

Thirdly, passengers were quarantined on arrival at Canada’s Grosse Isle  – arguably these passengers were already off the vessel, but nonetheless, quarantine itself prevented further spread of diseases in the port from previous Irish arrivals.

For passengers who finally settled in Canada, the ordeal wasn’t yet over as Robert Whyte describes families succumbing to the harsh Canadian winter.

Although little more is recorded of the Jeanie Johnson’s immigrants into Canada and the USA and reasonably the best source for family history are various genealogy websites.

It can only be assumed that after the traumas they suffered eventually they would make good, thus proving that immigrants are the vitality of a nation.

Of the ship, she later sailed across the Atlantic in 1858 with a cargo of timber – overcome by waves and with the crew unable to further manage the bilge pumps, the ship settled in the water but remained afloat.

Due to her cargo of timber she refused to sink and with the crew now aloft in the rigging to escape the rising waves, they were rescued by a Dutch vessel en route from Amsterdam to New York – again not a single life was lost.

But the coffin ships continued to sail on to North America as well as England.

Indeed, my own great-grandparents from the Famine-stricken county of Galway may have dodged a bullet.

For after arriving in Liverpool with nothing but the ragged clothes on their backs, later that year (1849) the emigre vessel SS Londonderry shamefully recorded the deaths of seventy-two passengers en route from Sligo to Liverpool.

Possibly this tragedy hastened tighter regulation towards 1867, but all along London decreed that regulation was only enforceable from UK and not Irish ports – small wonder that English politicians such as the right-wing Sir Charles Trevelyan’s view on emigration included the cynical quote:

We must not complain, of what we really want to obtain. (1)

Obviously the politician had a very jaundiced view of Irish people, but what isn’t written is there were probably many more Jeanie Johnsons at that time.

Too bad that they too were not recognised, just the same as relief money from British people (British subjects are not the British government) and North America, Australia, Argentina, France, India, et al, received minimum coverage.

The notion that some lives matter less than others is all that’s wrong with the world – a thought that judgemental important people such as Sir Charles Trevelyan should have considered.

FOOTNOTE.

Dublin’s Jeanie Johnson is an exact replica as is possible to get.

Laid down in Tralee in 1993, finances came from diverse sources including the Irish government, American-Irish societies, the EU and many benefactors.

A team of young people, supervised by experienced shipwrights, provided much of the labour.

She has CAT engines and generator, plus all modern safety equipment including fire doors and PPE.

And although construction cost over-ran from €3.8 mn to €13 mn, today the ship still provides sea training, tourist income and a venue for corporate events.

REFERENCES:

1) The Guardian, p.3, Irish Ancestor’s Role Could Merit Compensation, May 1, 2023.

Article written by James Hart