During World War I and World War II, hundreds of pirate cats from all over the world were left stranded on the Chelsea Piers in New York when the troopships and freighters they had stowed away on left the harbor without them. Even years after the wars ended, these refugee mascots still prowled the piers at night in search of food and shelter. The news media called them the “Chelsea Pirate Cats.”
During the post-war Christmas holidays, when there were few ships at port – and the few remaining crews were spending the holiday ashore – the pirate cats that lived in the sheds along the Hudson River (then called the North River) were hard-pressed to find a meal. At night, their howls of protest could be heard all along the waterfront.
In December 1922, Woo-ki, a one-eyed Chinese feline from Fuzhou (Foochow), was the leader of the pack. He had stowed away on the freighter Wei-hai-Wan and arrived in New York a few weeks earlier, and had quickly risen in power to Chief Pirate Cat.
Woo-ki would lead the stranded stowaway cats toward the Customs guards on duty, and encourage them to try to steal the men’s dinners.
On Christmas Eve that year, Woo-ki and his band of refugee cats zeroed in on veteran watchman Sam Meders. (Sam told a news reporter that he had to carry his dinner around all day to keep it away from the hungry felines.)
Apparently the band of pirate cats realized that a large Christmas feast was being prepared on the White Star Line’s Olympic, and they had no intention of being left out of the celebration. They apparently also knew a sucker when they saw one.
Christmas on the RMS Olympic
On Christmas Day 1922, the Olympic was the only American ship docked at the Chelsea Piers whose crew did not go ashore to celebrate the holiday. She had just returned to New York a few days earlier from Southampton and Cherbourg; her masts were covered with ice and some glass ports on the “D” and “E” decks were broken by the heavy seas she had encountered en route.
On Christmas morning, though, her saloons were decorated with holly and evergreens in preparation for a holiday feast of turkey, plum pudding, and mince pie. The festivities began at 9:30 a.m. with 15 athletic competitions on the pier for the crew, including sack races, an egg and spoon race, and a tug of war between married and single men (the married men reportedly almost always won the tug of war.)
At 1 p.m. the men enjoyed their Christmas dinner, which was accompanied by beer for the crew and red and white wine for the officers and engineers. What these men probably didn’t realize, however, was that they were not the first ones to dine on the ship that day…
Like all cats I know – at least the two spoiled cats that live in my house – their constant pestering worked. According to Sam, their howling and begging whittled down his defenses, and by Christmas Day, the felines had prevailed.
I can’t quite imagine how he was able to do this – and it’s actually very comical if you try to picture this – but at 8 a.m. Sam mustered up the four-legged pack and took them aboard the Olympic. Once on the ship, the crafty kitties were invited to partake in their very own feast fit for kings – or should I say pirates.
Two days following the Christmas dinner, the crew of the Olympic performed their annual Christmas concert in the White Star Line’s waiting room at Pier 61. I like to believe that a large number of pirate cats were in attendance, providing backup to the chorus.
