That's "wind-jamming", as in cramming, or jamming, every available puff of sea breeze into huge creaking and straining canvas sails high overhead.

But this doesn't convey any of the agile beauty of the best of these once graceful wind-driven ships under sail. They were the product of probably 8000 years of man trying to perfect wind technology for commerce.

Most of these sleek ocean greyhounds, such as the magnificent four-masted barque Pamir, are no more. She was the last commercial sailing ship to round the treacherous Cape Horn off the tip of South America back in 1949, very late indeed in the famous era of now almost extinct square-rigged ships.

And what a sight under canvas. The 375ft (114m) long Pamir carried 40,900sq ft of billowing sail and could reach a top speed of 16knots (30kmh). Her tall masts stood a mighty 168ft (51.2m) above the main deck.

Many similar sail ships were sunk in World War I or earlier. They gradually became obsolete about 1900 when steamships stole much of their trade.

Except, that is, for bulk cargoes on very long-haul ocean routes such as wheat, timber and nitrates. And, of course, coal, to distant ports such as Iquique, in Chile, despite being paid low freight rates.

But cargoes of coal, the "black diamonds" of the earth were never popular with seamen on these once proud ships. The fine black dust became ingrained in deck planking, ropes, canvas and just about everywhere else.

Busy Newcastle Harbour became famous as one of the last refuges of windjammers desperate for coal cargoes in the dying days of sail about 120 years ago.

But elsewhere, big sail ships slowly disappeared.

I was reminded of their passing only recently after featuring a picture on this page of two 19th century metal sailors, facing imaginary massive seas and wind, wrestling with a ship's helm. This striking, life-sized bronze statue called Windjammer Sailors is on display outside wharf 7 at the Australian National Maritime Museum (ANMM) in Sydney.

This ode to stout-hearted sailing ship men of yesteryear is a popular addition to the Pyrmont waterfront. Nearby, rather aptly, the rare tall ship James Craig (from 1874) tugs at her moorings. She is Sydney's only 19th century square-rigger left after a restoration taking almost 40 years and costing a hefty $30million.

Over decades, the rescued ship had survived going around Cape Horn in mountainous seas a staggering 23 times. Now she occasionally visits Newcastle Harbour, being one of only four such genuine vessels still sailing (for tourists) world-wide.

Behind the statue image, however, soon emerged other stories courtesy of Lake Macquarie ship historian and model-builder Col Gibson.

"I understand (the helm statue) was modelled on the wheel of the ship James Craig," he wrote.

Col also said some old sailing ships had dual steering wheels, one behind the other. For in severe gale conditions, up to four sailors were needed just to steady the two helms to keep a vessel on course.

He knows all about those bygone days, as he was one of four men who have long been in love with 'the Duchess', a very grand dame to be sure.

That's the intricate sailing ship scale model Herzogin Cecilie, now partly completed at the ANMM, where Col is a volunteer. It's named after German Crown Princess Duchess Cecilie, of Prussia.

The original German-built, four-masted steel barque (1902-1939) was a legend, sailing under German French and Finnish flags. Besides her unusual longevity for a big sailing ship, she was also one of the fastest windjammers built.

Herzogin (German for Duchess) even won the famous, so-called "grain race" eight times, These were for the last sailing ships voyaging between South Australia and Europe. Her final outing was winning four grain races in 11 voyages between 1926 and 1936.

Rather surprisingly (to me anyway), the grain race fleet in 1939 could still attract 14 vessels. The last grain race was in 1949, a victim of the modern container ship trade.

Of the grain fleet that survived World War II, only six remain.

Ship model builders are an unusual breed. To fully appreciate their painstaking, time-consuming hobby, I remember viewing years ago several clever ship models on display at the old Bel-Air Hotel at Kotara.

Col said he and three others from the ANMM ship building modellers team have long worked on the project.

Sadly, one stalwart died after working for years on the model at his home. By then, the hull was finished and most deck fittings had been installed.

"Most of the gear such as masts and yards are ready to be fitted, but doing the rigging is quite a mammoth task, that could take a year to accomplish," Col said.

The aim of ANMM curators was to have the Herzogin Cecilie model restoration completed in full view of visitors. The pandemic has upset those plans, although the maritime museum hopes to open in December.

To further illustrate the tenacity and patience of ship modellers elsewhere, I later came across a reference to a ship model of the famous wool clipper Thermopylae, which a Sydney enthusiast finally finished after 8000 working hours.

Ship lovers everywhere had thought so much of the original, ageing vessel that in 1907, when towed out to sea and sank off the Portuguese coast, it was with full naval honours.

Meanwhile, Col also alerted me to the invaluable, but relatively unknown, service done by wartime windjammers carrying much-needed cargoes around the globe in WWII (1939-45). He referred me to the ANMM's quarterly magazine Signals last year. Here, author and artist Robert Carter OAM, revealed the strange anachronism of 27 large wind-powered ships successfully still plying the seas, defying the U-boat menace.

Most major wind ships are no longer with us. The Pamir (from 1905) survived two world wars but sank in a hurricane in 1957 off the Azores. Earlier, through misadventure, the Herzogin Cecilie had sunk off the South Devon (English) coast in 1939.

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