Not exactly a Carnival Cruise.......
May 05 '04
The Bottom Line Just think! If that ship hadn't made it through the storm in 1893, I wouldn't be here today.
While viewing “Master and Commander” the other evening, I was reminded of an episode recorded in my grandmother’s memoirs. It was about a disastrous sea voyage from Buenos Aries, Argentina to Boston, Mass., complete with storms and becalmings.
First, a little background:
In 1893, my grandmother was living in Buenos Aries. Her first husband, a coffee plantation owner, had died of yellow fever in Brazil. To protect her small child, Carlos (my Uncle Charlie), from the dread disease, Granny moved to Argentina. At that time, it was not known that yellow fever was caused by mosquitoes.
After a few years, Granny remarried, and when a baby was born, her new husband wanted to visit the United States to introduce his wife, infant, and 7-year-old step-son to his parents.
Granny’s first husband had been part-owner in a sailing vessel, used to transport coffee beans, and when the captain of this vessel happened to visit, he offered to take them along on his next trip to Boston. Granny didn’t want to take this trip, but was persuaded to go.
Here is the story of that trip, supposed to take a few weeks, but lasting three months, in Granny’s own words:
“Our voyage was supposed to take us six weeks. The captain had taken on board all kinds of extra provisions for our benefit. He turned over his stateroom, which opened into the saloon, so that I could have the two children with me. I cannot think of anything he left undone that would add to our comfort.
Can I ever forget the time we had getting on board. We had to get into a little sailboat to get to the tug because the water was so shallow. Then we went out about two miles to the vessel. When we reached it, we had to climb a narrow ladder that ran up the side of it, while it was rolling from side to side because of the rough weather. The captain came down to carry up the baby, the boatswain took Carlitos and we followed. Few people can realize what a difficult feat that is for anyone to accomplish when the sea is rough.
I cannot refrain from smiling when I think of Elmer in the little sailboat. In the mad rush to get ready, he forgot to pack his silk hat, and rather than leave it, he decided to wear it. We had not gone five hundred feet when a huge wave nearly upset us and knocked his hat off, and in spite of my fears for the children, I just had to laugh while he scrambled to retrieve it. Such a sorry thing it was until he had it renovated in Chicago.
It did not take long to get settled in our stateroom. The captain swung hammocks for the two children for safety in rough weather, for which I was to be on many occasions more than thankful. Soon we heard the dinner bell, and seeing that we had eaten a hurried breakfast, we did full justice to it, even though we felt strange and cramped with the fiddles on the table on account of the rocking of the boat; otherwise our plates would be sliding all over the table.
It is a work of art to be able to partake of a plate of soup without spilling it all over the table or your lap. The salt, pepper, and so on, were in a cruet suspended from the ceiling, and if you were agile, or a good ball player, you would catch it on the rebound. It was great sport for Carlitos, who did not know what to make of such strange goings on.
We spent the afternoon trying to adjust ourselves to our surroundings, that is, the children and I did. Elmer, I supposed was with the captain. Tea time came and Elmer was nowhere to be found. After hunting around, we found him curled up on one of the hatches, looking not white, but a gray green; the poor fellow was already seasick. I persuaded him to go to his bunk, and it was more than a week before he ventured on deck again. He refused to eat anything but a few crackers and weak tea. This worried me to death because he was never any too robust.
The weather was getting hotter every day, for we were sailing toward the equator, and very slowly, sometimes not making more than a couple of miles an hour. Fortunately I had plenty to occupy my time, but poor Elmer was at his wits end trying to find something to relieve the monotony. He tried to make a boat for Carlitos, but after nearly cutting off a thumb, gave it up. He was no carpenter. He became quite an astronomer though. Most of the captain’s library consisted of books pertaining to either sky or sea. It was quite fascinating to sit and listen to the captain explain about the heavenly bodies. I, too, learned a lot about them before that long voyage was over.
It was interesting at night to watch the water from the stern of the boat. It sometimes looked as though we were sailing through fire, a beautiful sight. In the daytime we tried to play quoits or shuffleboard, but it is hardly possible on a small boat on account of the rolling. Then again, we would try and see who could catch the most fish in a net when we were almost at a standstill. In those waters are many strange fish, and often they would jump or fly on board. Then there were the beautiful little flying fish, lovely pink, yellow, red, and gray bodies with delicate transparent wings. Sometimes a whole school would fly on board, and those that we could not gather up immediately and throw back into the water would die; they were so very fragile. And so in these ways we tried to occupy the long tedious days.
We were making very slow progress. Unfortunately, when we were on the same latitude as Santos or Sao Paulo, we were becalmed and remained so for ten days in the stifling heat of the tropics. Then a little wind started up, and we sailed into the doldrums and just drifted slowly for some days, when, to our horror, we were again becalmed, the sails hanging like limp rags to the masts. We had not sighted land since leaving Buenos Aires, and must have been about opposite Bahia by this time, and at a standstill, with not even a boat passing for days at a time.
We were now faced with a very serious situation. We were running out of fresh water, as there had been no rain for weeks, and there was no condenser on a sailing vessel. We could use fresh water only for drinking, and very little for that. Of course, we always used salt water for bathing, and happily we had a grand bathtub, which is quite unusual on a sailing vessel. You can well imagine our suffering in that intense heat, without a breeze blowing and not enough water. Added to that, our supplies were now dwindling and we had to conserve them very carefully.
We had been drifting this time for about twelve days, when, to our great relief, a wind blew up and our sails began billowing out. We were on our way once more. What a relief to feel the breeze relieve us from the torrid heat we had endured for so long. I saw that Elmer suffered, but never complained. I expect he knew I would ask him why he had not taken my advice to wait until we could travel on a steamer.
The captain’s chief occupation now was watching the sky and barometer, for we were down to the last barrel of water and we were allowed it just once a day. But the rain came, and we found we could have too much of a good thing. It came down in veritable cloudbursts for days, until I thought the sun, that we had rebelled against so much, would never shine again; but the blessed Lord took pity on us and the sun finally returned.
For days we had been shut up below decks, and our relief was great when we could breathe the fresh air again. We were not to enjoy this very long, though. In a day or two, we began to get nasty rough weather again; the winds blew and the waves were like huge mountains on either side of us. On one side, a wave would be going away from us, then the other side would show another wave coming, as it seemed, right over our vessel, and there we were, being tossed about like a cork on the face of the waters. Everything that was not lashed down began rolling from one side to the other, keeping the crew busy lashing them.
In the dining room, dishes were rolling out of their racks, and pandemonium reigned. Elmer was never a very good sailor and refused to leave his bunk, not even to eat; not that it mattered much where you ate, if you did at all. You just had to hold on tight to whatever you could get and dispense with ceremony. For safety, I kept the children in their hammocks, for little Carlitos had already had many a bump.
That night the storm was worse than ever. The lightning flashed, the thunder roared, the wind blew, until we could hardly hear each other talk. I did not attempt to undress either the children or myself, for to be quite frank, I was just plain scared. I had been through many a storm, but not to be compared with this, nor was it in a little shell of a boat like this one. Our stateroom was near the companionway that led from the saloon on deck, and every now and then we would hear a gush of water rolling down, until one of the crew came and made the doors fast.
All the hatches had been fastened down and it was stifling in our stateroom, but we had to stay there. Happily for me, the children slept. How I blessed the captain for the hammocks that night, for they never would have been able to stay in a bunk. Elmer was so exhausted that he too was actually dozing among all that turmoil. The masts were screeching, sailors running overhead, it sounded as though bedlam was let loose. Suddenly came a tremendous crash just above our heads. The vessel started to turn on one side.
Elmer jumped up and said, “What was that? I guess the captain must have fallen down stairs in his rubber boots.” He had actually fallen asleep; he was half dazed. Imagine my disgust at his seeming stupidity at such a time, when I expected the ship to sink at any moment. I am afraid I would have given him a sharp retort, but just at that moment came another crash.
Elmer jumped out of his bunk, or I ought to say, fell out, and rushed to open the door, but to our dismay it was jammed and no amount of force on our part could open it. We pounded on the door and ceiling, thinking someone on deck would hear and come to our rescue; but those feeble efforts could not be heard above the racket the elements were making and the racing and shouting of the crew.
Our state of mind can be well imagined when we felt ourselves going down and caught like rats in a trap. If I was going down, I wanted at least to be on deck. Elmer was beside himself and said over and over, “What have I brought you to!”
I had just about resigned myself to what seemed the inevitable, and for some strange reason lost a good deal of my fear. I tried to reassure Elmer, who was pulling with all his strength at the door. The running around of the crew and awful noises we heard every now and then were awe inspiring. Suddenly I felt the boat begin to right itself, and to our great relief, the door abruptly opened, flinging Elmer to the floor. It seemed to me I had lived a thousand years that night. Elmer was almost beside himself and said, “Oh darling, I thought I had brought you to death,” and would not hardly release me.
The storm continued and Elmer tried to go on deck, but the captain would not let him. He had come to see how we were, and to say that he thought the worst of the storm was over; but we must not attempt to open the deck door as the waves were still very high. When dawn began to break, the fury of the elements had lessened, and in a few hours the sun was shining, the waters beautifully blue and calm. No one would ever dream that we had passed through such a terrifying night.
These are the experiences that teach us that God is the Lord of all creation, and we are but as grains of sand on the seashore. He indeed seemed very near that night and I prayed very earnestly for us all. The strangest feeling came to me when I thought we were sinking; for while I was frightened to death, the thought came to me that soon I would be with the loved ones I had lost, and I was comforted and given courage to face the end with my little ones close in my embrace. That night will always live in my memory.
Later that morning we went on deck only to find that it had been stripped of nearly all the masts, also the spanker boom; those were the awful noises we heard in the night. It took days to replace the masts with others that a sailing vessel always carries. At last we were on our way again, but very slowly, not making more than four or five knots an hour; but glad to be doing that, for our food was getting woefully less and not much hope of touching land before we reached Boston.
We were sailing into cooler weather and small squalls, but nothing like the one we had gone through. We now began making much better time, sailing past Pernambuco and directly north, skirting the West Indies, Bermuda, and straight on to Boston, with hardly enough food or water for another day.
The only one among us that did not say a prayer of thanks when we reached Boston was little Carlitos. He had loved every day of that dreadful voyage because the whole crew catered to him, made him boats, full rigged ships, carved all kinds of animals for him and painted them in gay colours; all of which he kept for many years. I would spread a blanket on deck and put the baby on it; he was just learning to sit up without being tied in a chair that the captain had made for him, and it was too funny to see him try and balance himself when the ship would roll; also to see him try and build with some blocks they had made for him, for they would continually fall. But he must have thought that was part of the game, for he never seemed daunted and would start over again.
It was now December, and as we neared the northern part of the United States, we felt the cold very much and had to stay below all the time. At last we sighted land. I wonder if anyone except those who have gone through a like experience, can imagine the overwhelming sense of joy and gratitude we felt when we thought we would soon be safely on shore after so many vicissitudes. This was the first land we had seen since leaving Buenos Aires three months before. How weary we all were, and badly needed warm clothes, and linen that was not sticky with salt water.
I had been told of the beauty of Boston harbour and was anxious to see it, but the temperature was about twenty below zero and I had no warm clothes. However, I put on all I had and the captain brought his big reefer and slicker, and helped me up on deck where everything was frozen, icicles hanging from every possible point, the deck in places like glass, which made it impossible to walk; so the captain again came to my rescue and brought up a pair of thick woolen socks and put them over my thin shoes.
Truly the sight was beautiful. There were myriads of small islands scattered all over the harbour. These were partly covered with ice and snow, and the sun shining on them made the whole scene look like an exaggerated Christmas card. I had been given to understand that it compared favorably with the harbour of Rio de Janeiro. This I did not find so. This was a desolate, quiet, cold beauty, whereas Rio is all life and grandeur with its sparkling blue waters flowing serenely on through the gateway made by mountains on either side.
We were all making ready to land the next day, the boat having come to a standstill and the anchor lowered. The sensation of trying to walk or sleep on a level quiet surface after being tossed about for three months is most peculiar. You miss the rock of the boat, and find it almost impossible to walk on a straight line, and your feet seem to want to lift themselves up. It takes a couple of weeks to overcome that.
The next morning when we awoke, we found to our disgust a regular blizzard was blowing. The captain tried for two days to signal a tug to pilot us to the landing, at night sending up rockets; but to no avail. On the third day, to our relief, we saw a tug plowing its way through the ice toward us. After much trouble, they got the hawser on board and made fast. That was a terrifying little trip too, for the wind was blowing a gale, and we had to navigate through ice floes. We at long last tied up at the wharf in Boston.”
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