Just sit right back, and I'll tell you a story, a tale of the raging sea and heroic deeds. Grab yourself something to drink and eat, put your feet up and make yourself comfortable, and I'll tell ye the tale of the Neptune's Car, a clipper ship that set sail from New York for San Francisco, by way of Cape Horn, off the southern tip of South America.
On July 1, 1856, the Neptune's Car departed from New York under the command of Captain Joshua Patten. Captain Patten was only 26 years old, but he had proven his worth time and again, and was a renowned man of the sea. In spite of his skill, however, and the faith his men placed in him and his ability, this particular voyage would prove to be a disaster for him. Indeed, it would be his last.
The voyage began well enough. They sailed south with good wind and good seas, but soon were beset by two problems. One difficulty was the first mate, whose name has been lost. It would seem that the first mate often slept on duty. He also issued commands that directly disobeyed the orders of the captain. This problem was seemingly solved when Captain Patten removed the man from his position, and made one Mr. Hare the first mate instead. But a more dangerous situation soon arose.
As they went further south, the seas grew rougher and higher, and it became apparent that danger lay ahead. Danger is an understatement. The Neptune's Car encountered ferocious storms off Cape Horn. For several weeks, Captain Patten and his crew fought huge waves and gale-force winds that drove the ship back further than any progress they were able to make. It became so bad at one point that Captain Patten spent eight days without sleep trying to get his ship and his crew safely through the storm. During that time, Captain Patten bravely performed double watches in weather that was cold enough to cause ice to form on the rigging. Sadly, the task proved to be too much for him, and Captain Patten collapsed on the deck, possibly from pneumonia. This left the Neptune's Car in dire straits. Mr. Hare was suitably skilled at command, but lacked the experience to navigate the ship. Further, the former first mate, when he learned of the situation, attempted a mutiny. Disaster seemed imminent, but at the darkest hour, the day was saved by an unlikely source. Enter Mary Patten, the pregnant young wife of the captain.
Mary found her husband collapsed on the deck, shivering and in a delirium. She got him below, and consulted the ship's medical books to try and discover what was wrong with him. When all hell broke loose and the former first mate made his bid to take over the ship, Mary rose to the challenge. She sent forth a call for the men to muster on the quarterdeck, and she addressed them from the poop deck. Imagine the scene: there on the quarterdeck are gathered a bunch of strong, tough sailors, facing a small woman who addressed them. Mary was slender and dark-haired and very beautiful, based on descriptions written down by some in the crew. She was also four months pregnant. Nevertheless, she told the men that she was determined to get them to San Francisco and she needed their support. She possessed the knowledge and the navigational skills to do so. Her speech and her spirited determination earned the admiration of the crew, and they agreed to follow her orders. A smart move for the crew, for under Mary's command, they were able to make it to San Francisco. She spent more than fifty days fighting stormy seas and attempts by the mutinous former first mate to sabotage her attempts to get them to their destination safely and quickly.
Sadly, the voyage ended with tragedy. After the arrival in San Francisco, Captain Patten and his wife returned to New York and then to Boston. On March 10, 1857, their son was born, but four months after the birth, Captain Patten died. He spent the last days of his life at the Somerville Insane Asylum. All the ships in Boston harbor flew their flags at half-mast in response to the news. Mary lived only a few years longer herself. On March 18, 1861, she died of tuberculosis. She and her husband were buried in Woodlawn Cemetery in Everett, Massachussetts.
Mary was honored for her heroic deeds and for the love and devotion she displayed toward her husband, Joshua. The Union Mutual Insurance Company, which underwrote the voyage, awarded Mary the sum of $1,000 for her service. The New York Daily Tribune and the Daily News in London both published articles praising her and her heroism. In fact, the Daily News compared her with Florence Nightingale and Sarah Pellatt. The citizens of Boston and London together raised another $1,500 for her and her husband. Mary truly earned the admiration and respect of many of her fellow citizens of the time, and has earned her place as an heroic American. When times get tough for us, let us remember the danger and difficulty she faced, and how she more than rose to the challenge, becoming an example for us all. I encourage you to read more about her exploits and the deeds of other women in maritime history. You can find her tale and others in the book Women Sailors & Sailor's Women by David Cordingly. That book served as the inspiration and the source material for this essay.