First night at sea

May 8, 1897

We arise before six and after breakfast settle our hotel bill and take the car to Christopher Ferry. We go to the Cunard pier, a block or two distant and see Hannah aboard and bid her goodbye. She is crying at leaving although returning to her own home and parents. She is going steerage which is crowded full and we don’t know where she will be located, but we have to leave her as her boat sails at 9:30 and ours at 10 a.m. We cross the ferry again and soon are aboard the white Kaiser. We leave our baggage in the stateroom and go to hunt for our mail, but to our disappointment got none but a business letter. We write and mail our good bye letters and then take a good position on the promenade deck to watch the people. Friends are crowding to say good byes, there are flowers everywhere, some are crying and some are laughing and the pretty girls are kissing each other till I grow quite sympathetic. The steerage passengers are huddled together on a small part of the lower deck and are mostly rather dirty looking Italians, but no one could look decent in such surroundings as a steerage passenger has.

The bell rings, the warning to leave has been given the last call “all ashore” made, and now the hawsers are cast off, the engines start and slowly the big boat backs out into the stream and then turns her bow to the narrows and at 10:15 a.m. our journey across the great ocean begins. Just as we are getting fairly started we approach another great liner, the Lucania which has also been delayed in starting and lays broad side to us and my enthusiastic “Kodak friend” takes two snap shots of her. On passing the Statue of Liberty on Bedloe’s Island she takes another shot at the helpless and unprotected statue. Off Quarantine lie three great war ships painted white and looking what they are, veritable floating fortresses.

In going through the Narrows a short distance from Fort Hamilton the top of two masts and of a smoke stack stick out of the water, the boat having been sunk a few day before in a collision. By noon we are off Sandy Hook and the pilot leaves us. The Kaiser points her prow due east and the journey of 3250 miles to Gibraltar begins.

At one o’clock we have hunch. Consisting of about eight courses. Dinner from 6 to 7, breakfast 8 to 10. Also lunches at 4 p.m., 9 p.m. and oftener if desired. All the meals are served in courses; clean plates, etc. for every course and the dish washers must have a plenty to do. The bill of fare is “just scrumptious” and for plain people is suggestive of dyspepsia.

Between meals the passengers sit in their steamer chairs wrapped up in their rugs and read or doze or talk as inclination moves them. Our stateroom is no. 140. It is about 7’ square and 7 ½ - 8’ high. It is well ventilated. The berths are one above the other and consist of narrow wire mattresses strapped on iron frames. Each berth is about 6 ½’ long and probably 2’ 2” wide. It is very comfortable but you can’t curl up as in a regular bed. Our room also contains a dresser, a settee, a folding wash stand that lets down like a writing desk and when not in use folds up out of the way. The baggage goes under the lower berth or on a shelf. Toilet and bath rooms are very fine. So are the dining and ladies salons. We have lots of room for exercise or sports. Various games are devised, ring toss, etc. The promenade deck is 250 feet long and about 15 feet wide and reaches a round on both sides of the ship. We have 235 cabin passengers and 261 steerage passengers and about 250 in the crew, stewards, attendants, etc. all in charge of Captain Hagelmann. Nearly all the men are German, as this is a German line. The day has been sunny and bright, not much wind and but little seas running. Very few so far are sea sick, but some of the ladies look rather dubious and are wrapped up and stretched out like mummies. At the table is a Rev. Dr. Trusedell and wife of Chicago, a Miss Breed(?) of Philadelphia, a Catholic Bishop and ourselves. We have two servants to wait on our table. Mrs. E. has had a few qualms and been a little undecided whether to be seasick or not and preferred to stay on deck when I went to bed as she felt more dubious in the berth. She went to sleep in her chair on deck.