The poetry of ventilation in 19th century ships

J. S. Haldane worked on an Admiralty Committee looking into the ventilation of ships. The committee’s 1913 report was labelled ‘Top Secret’, never expected a wide readership, but a passage recalling those older ships is so achingly beautiful it is worth recording it here (I’m trimming my Haldane biography just now, and sadly this piece dropped away). Like Haldane, naval commanders had ridden the crest of a technological wave out of the 19^th century. In the same way that he constantly referred to scientists of the past, the naval committee could reflect on glory days. Not all advances were improvements. The ventilation of ships was to a fair extent afforded by the natural play of the vessel with its environment:

‘In the days of sailing ships natural methods were employed, and except in the presence of gales at sea the methods were fairly efficient; for in harbour the large and numerous gun-ports afforded excellent perflation, the yawning hatches provided good means of exhaust, and windsails carried pure air unpolluted with smoke and coal dust into the lowest parts of the ships. At sea in all but very bad weather she rode the waves and could carry her hatches, and at least some of her lee parts, while the sails deflected a stream of air down the hatches which were protected from spray by high bulwarks. Her stout wooden sides kept her warm in cold climates, and cool in hot weather. Whether the ship was at anchor head to wind or at sea there was a fresh flow of air fore and aft in the main and lower decks unobstructed by watertight bulkheads. The orlop deck was dark and ill-ventilated, but only a few officers were berthed, and there were no Ship’s Company messes on this deck. Moreover officers and men worked almost entirely in the open air, and so very little time was spent there.’

The full report can be found in the archives of Wolfson College, Oxford, including a deputation sent out to review ships of the US navy. The picture, from 1885, comes from here.