To those who are not thoroughly familiar with it the
River Thames and its docks, from London Bridge to Gravesend,
seems a vast and uncharted wilderness of craft - a wilderness in
which it would be perfectly easy to hide even a three-master
successfully. To such people the idea of looking for a steam launch
on the river would be about equivalent to the idea of looking for a
needle in a bundle of hay. But the fact is, there are hundreds of
men between St Katherine's Wharf and Blackwall who literally
know the Thames as the suburban householder knows his
back-garden - who can recognize thousands of ships and put a
name to them at a distance of half a mile, who are informed as to
every movement of vessels on the great stream, who know all the
captains, all the engineers, all the lightermen, all the pilots, all the
licensed watermen, and all the unlicensed scoundrels from the
Tower to Gravesend, and a lot further. By these experts of the
Thames the slightest unusual event on the water is noticed and
discussed - a wherry cannot change hands but they will guess
shrewdly upon the price paid and the intentions of the new owner
with regard to it. They have a habit of watching the river for the
mere interest of the sight, and they talk about everything like
housewives gathered of an evening round the cottage door. If the
first mate of a Castle Liner gets the sack they will be able to tell
you what he said to the captain, what the old man said to him, and
what both said to the Board, and having finished off that affair
they will cheerfully turn to discussing whether Bill Stevens sank
his barge outside the West Indian No.
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