A similar semaphore system operated from the South Coast near Portland, to London. The shipowners also had weathervanes erected above their offices which were geared to compass clocks, one inside the boardroom and one facing the street, which gave them some indication of the prevailing wind and whether their investment would dock in good time. Some of these old clocks were in existence up to recent days, and the old telegraphs are remembered by the many localities still retaining the namc 'Telegraph Hill'.

  It was natural for the hardheaded masters to avoid the towline as long as practicable, but they sometimes regretted it. One can picture a paddle tug wallowing within hailing distancc, its black sulphureous smokc threatening to befoul the white splendour of the clipper's sails, and an irate mate threatening to pour a bucketful of water down the tug's funncl to put the fire out. One clipper, having made the Channel ahead of a rival, was making such good time that her master refused the hclp of the best tug, which thereupon disappeared astern and picked up the rival. The wind easing off later, the rival under tow soon overhauled the first ship, which by this time was able only to secure the services of a much less powerful tug and lost the race to the final docking in consequence. Each tug had a fixed rate depending on the distance and its horsepower, varying between 40 and 100, So it was a temptation to hold on as long as possible before hiring a less powerful tug for the short end of the voyage. But the bargaining and banter would reach its inevitable end with a handshakc via the towrope, when the clipper would deflate her filling sails, snug down and meekly submit to being led into the dock to her well earned rest.

   In contrast with the somewhat anticlimactic end of voyage in London, some sixty-odd miles up the Thames, clippers arriving in Liverpool could make quite a thrilling finish. With favourable winds, after picking up the pilot off the Welsh coast and ignoring the aid of a tug, they would carry on under full sail through the channelways of the estuary and up the River Mersey for about three miles until opposite the port, where they would furl sail and drop anchor in the crowded waterway with the precision and speed of a well trained naval ship. American ships in particular were wont to do this, to the enthusiastic cheers of onlookers.