PS Comet: Cruising’s unlucky forefather
If you trace the history of cruise ships and passenger travel, you’ll discover Glasgow’s SS Comet; the very genesis point that set foundations for modern travel. Except, it’s not necessarily the happiest of stories…
Earlier this year, Port Glasgow lost its identity.
A fiercely proud community of shipbuilders engrained with industrialist DNA, Port Glasgow’s tact for naval engineering immortalised Scotland's nautical workforce. Broadcasting Scottish-oceangoing dominance to the world, you didn’t mess with a ship from the Clyde.
Despite well-documented geopolitical issues and an ever-increasing catalogue of perished shipbuilding firms, against immeasurable odds, Port Glasgow continues to operate in modern times. The local skyline boasts our last British yard capable of constructing merchant ships; Ferguson Marine (Glasgow) Ltd – the sole remaining dockyard on a once-bustling Lower Clyde.
It's not hard to witness the regional dignity still felt in relation to shipbuilding, which is why the council-backed removal of the town’s tribute to PS Comet – the local paddle steamer dating back to 1812, and the genesis of modern travel – hit hard.
“So what?” I hear you cry. To most people, PS Comet is just an age-old relic swallowed by time’s onward march. Except – that’s like calling William ‘Fatty’ Foulkes irrelevant to the world of football, or declaring Sean Connery as unimportant to the James Bond franchise.
While Foulkes set the precedent for mainstream goalkeeping, and Connery made 007 a household name, PS Comet formed the modern concept of cruising and passenger travel. Not to mention putting Port Glasgow on the map.
Widely accepted as Europe’s first commercially successful passenger ferry, PS Comet was commemorated with a large-scale replica lovingly constructed by shipyard apprentices in 1962.
That is, until local authorities condemned the replica’s structure and deemed renovation ‘economically unviable’, before promptly demolishing the town’s salute towards its own identity during early 2023.
As the iconic centrepiece of Port Glasgow’s town centre has now been removed, we felt it was important to exhibit the paddle steamer’s incredible story – and pinpoint the genesis of cruising as we know it.
Meet PS Comet: The pioneering paddle steamer
Sure, modern travel accommodates vast distances in comfort, but roll back to an era preceding Queen Victoria’s reign and travel was expensive, time-consuming and dangerous – especially when shipping was involved.
Unless you had a double-barrelled surname, or fancied an untimely death, you rarely ventured beyond the horizon.
Transporting goods and people between locations, even if separated by only a short stretch of deep water, would entail a prolonged diversion across the land to avoid crippling expenses or unwarranted suffering.
That all changed when Henry Bell, a businessman and engineer from Helensburgh, commissioned John Wood and Company (of Port Glasgow) to build a paddle steamer for operations between Glasgow and Greenock.
Efforts resulted in the state-of-the-art PS Comet, christened after the ‘Great Comet’ of 1811, which quickly became the template for others to follow.
Weighing in at 28 tonnes, the steamer operated two paddle wheels on each side, powered by a single-cylinder engine churning out a maximum of four horsepower.
That will sound primitive by contemporary standards but you must remember, at that time, people genuinely believed a human head would implode when speeding beyond 30mph. Nowadays, the common lawnmower produces twice that amount of power.
Mr Bell held a deep-rooted interest in steam-propelled ships, having already witnessed the success of the North River Steamboat (colloquially known as the Clermont) on the Hudson.
Widely regarded as the first vessel to clearly demonstrate the potential of commercial steam power on the water, the North River Steamboat set the tone for future advancement, but the mantra didn’t translate into commercialism.
That’s where PS Comet changed the landscape.
Setting a new standard
Comet’s engine (crafted by John Robertson of Glasgow) was nothing short of revolutionary. Paired with an indefatigable boiler by David Napier of Camlachie, the story goes that running gear evolved from experiments with a mechanism to pump seawater into the Helensburgh Baths.
Her aesthetically-pleasing design cleverly doubled as slick engineering, with a tall and thin funnel that served as the mast – with an ability to support a square sail and capitalise on any following winds.
The hull was brightly painted, featuring a female figurehead draped in the spectrum colours of the rainbow.
Accommodation was modest by today’s high standards, with small pockets featuring wooden seats that masked a series of bunk beds and a communal table; offering shelter during bad weather and an element of privacy – much to the relief of well-heeled paying customers.
When those passengers included celebrities of the day, such as Sir Walter Scott and James Watt, such facilities remained important – something that Cunard would later discover when transporting Charles Dickens across the Atlantic. That man could certainly write a scathing account or two…
The giddy heights of seven horsepower
Launched on July 24, 1812, PS Comet’s trial run took place between Port Glasgow and Broomielaw (now the site of the Squiggly Bridge) on August 6, completing the 20-mile journey in three and a half hours.
It was quickly discovered that the double-paddlewheel setup simply couldn’t provide the gusto required, and the design was hastily substituted for a pair of single wheels.This almost doubled the available power – rising to the impressive region of no less than seven horsepower.
Guffaw all you like, but this was jaw-dropping stuff for the time. Don’t forget, it was commonly believed that travelling faster than a trotting horse would cause your organs to turn inside out.
Henry Bell placed adverts in the local newspaper – The Greenock Advertiser (September 27, 1839-April 8, 1884) – stating that a regular passenger service would begin on August 12, 1812, covering 25 miles each way.
The full advert read:
The Steamboat Comet Between Glasgow, Greenock and Helensburgh for Passengers Only
The subscriber, having at much expense, fitted up a handsome vessel to ply upon the River Clyde from Glasgow, to sail by the power of air, wind, and steam, intends that the vessel shall leave the Broomielaw on Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Saturdays about mid-day, or such hour thereafter as may answer from the state of the tide, and to leave Greenock on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays in the morning to suit the tide.
PS Comet then made her first commercial sailing from Glasgow on August 15, headed for Bowling, Helensburgh and Greenock. We believe this is the exact date when steam-boating on the Clyde spearheaded an industrial water-born revolution across Britain and Europe.
The cost? Well, that was "four shillings for the best cabin, and three shillings for the second” – roughly £10.40 today for the plush cabin, and £7.10 for your less-fancy abode; which probably meant you didn’t get a wooden chair…
However, when observing the ship’s plans, it becomes apparent that PS Comet didn’t really have cabins in the modern sense. It remains unclear what that advert actually means, but we won’t get held up by such idiosyncrasies. Not when there’s the epic climax to study.
PS Comet: quickly surpassed
The service became a roaring success, attracting accolades and attention from across the continent. Engineers ventured to the bonnie shores of Glasgow to study PS Comet and her abilities, while wealthy socialites placed a sailing atop their bucket list.
Henry Bell could literally afford to light his velvety cigars with paper money, while bathing in whisky and enjoying a lifestyle usually reserved for members of the Royal family.
Albeit briefly.
In a way, PS Comet became a victim of her own triumph. Rivals soon pilfered the concept. Competitive services quickly appeared to cover the Firth of Clyde and the sea lochs to Largs, Rothesay, Campbeltown and Inveraray – all of which were bustling with trade and profit for those with their finger on the economic pulse.
The area enjoyed a lucrative explosion, but within a mere four years, PS Comet had been firmly left behind. Newer ships completely outclassed Comet’s original design. Following an attempt to service the Firth of Forth, Bell had PS Comet overhauled – lengthening her structure and installing a more powerful engine.
The original power-plant found itself installed within a Greenock brewery, before finding a forever home in The Science Museum in London. The engine’s flywheel became a fixture on East Esplanade in Helensburgh, where you can still visit it today.
From September 1819, Comet ran a four-day return service between Glasgow and Oban, via Fort William and through the Crinan Canal, but the operation didn’t last for long.
PS Comet: destroyed
December 15, 1820, witnessed strong currents at Craignish Point, south of Oban, which took a firm toll on PS Comet – forcing her against the rocks and cutting her career short.
Henry Bell happened to be on board for the fateful voyage and could only watch as his beloved ship suffered terminal damage.
Thankfully, no deaths were recorded. All passengers and crew survived to tell the story, which is more than can be said of Comet’s successor – the aptly christened Comet II.
The fate of the second vessel changed the course of Scottish history, and shocked Bell so badly that he put an immediate and permanent halt to any further involvement in steamship design. Only 13 years after pioneering one of Scotland’s most lauded creations, he threw in the towel.
PS Comet II: a disaster
Bell hadn’t been deterred from the scene following the loss of PS Comet, and promptly commissioned a replacement, built by James Lang shipyard at Dumbarton.
PS Comet II was larger, faster, and more advanced than her predecessor. She had quickly earned her stripes and grown popular with travellers.
Through the early-morning darkness on October 21, 1825, Comet’s successor was undertaking the usual West Highland run, carrying 90 (est.) passengers from Inverness and Fort William to Glasgow.
As Comet II rounded the tip of Kempock Point – located between Gourock and the Clock Lighthouse – she collided with the Ayr, a fellow steamboat, with enough force to cause Bell’s ship to sink like a stone.
The crash was so violent that nobody had time to react; Comet II disappeared beneath the waves within three minutes.
Of the estimated 90 passengers and crew, 73 of them perished within a matter of seconds. Survivors were largely traumatised, giving accounts to the Glasgow Courier where souls “were, in a moment, precipitated into the deep, into eternity".
That being said, in reality, the final death toll was never established. As was customary at the time, tracking passengers that boarded and disembarked at intermediate ports was not attempted.
What is known is that 13 people managed to swim ashore, including Duncan McInnes, the ship’s master, and Peter McBride, the ship’s pilot (both gentlemen were later tried before the High Court for Admiralty and accused of culpable killing).
Throughout the immediate aftermath of the sinking, Ayr pottered back to Greenock without even an attempt to rescue people struggling in the water.
Newspapers made a huge deal about this callous action, although further digging offers a different side to the story, where the master of the Ayr presumed his ship was likely to sink courtesy of catastrophic damage, so he simply returned to port to prevent his passengers from suffering the same fate.
Despite attempts to raise Comet II from her darkened slumber, her wreck lay off Kempock Point until the summer of 1826. Finally raised and beached on July 21, the wreck was subsequently scrapped – bringing an end to Comet’s lineage.
Duncan McInnes – later a founder of the Anchor Shipping Line (1855 – 1980) – was found guilty and spent three months in Greenock Prison, while McBride was found not guilty.
As for Henry Bell, the loss of his second ship amid such tragic circumstances decimated his mental health. Giving up on steam navigation, he attempted other projects but sadly held a very poor grasp of handling finances. He died in a state of ‘virtual poverty’ only five years after the disaster.
Port Glasgow: an identity removed
Despite being voided by time and now almost mythical as a ship of legend, PS Comet remains Port Glasgow’s proudest creation. The last passenger to have sailed may have died long ago, but the ship’s spirit remains etched onto each and every resident who calls the area home.
Such was the self-identity felt by locals towards PS Comet, that apprentices of Lithgows shipyard constructed a large-scale replica to mark the ship’s 150th anniversary. To celebrate the occasion back in 1962, a plethora of anniversary events took place, topped by the replica’s sailing from Port Glasgow to Helensburgh and back - with an accompaniment of other small ships.
By the time the original’s 200th anniversary approached in 2011, the replica was restored at a cost of £180,000 by the joint partnership of Ferguson Shipbuilders, Inverclyde Council and an ominously sounding organisation simply entitled ‘The Trust’.
Plonked in the town centre as Port Glasgow’s proud showpiece, the scale replica of PS Comet provided a direct link to the area’s famous past; paying tribute to the ship and her pioneering crew who set the tone for future cruising.
However, following a 2019 survey that condemned the replica’s wooden hull as ‘beyond economic repair’, the town’s self-identity was removed during the early months of 2023. The scale machinery was detached first, with claims that a new hull will be created to house the mechanicals and return the ship’s spirit to her birthplace.
In light of today’s recession and rampant inflation, it would come as no surprise to learn that the project has been postponed or cancelled.
Until the new hull materialises, Port Glasgow feels naked and stripped of congruence. Here’s hoping those restoration promises take place and normality is restored soon. After all, the cruising world owes Port Glasgow and PS Comet a debt of gratitude.
