Stormy Water

May 10, 1897

Had a good night’s rest. The morning is dark and lowering with occasional squalls and gusts of rain. The wind has circled completely around us during the past 24 hours. The gulls did not show up today and have evidently abandoned us, thinking we were getting too far from land; but a dozen of Mother Carey’s chickens are still following us. They are a small dark bird, darting like a swallow and occasionally riding on the billow. It has rained all day, at times quite hard. At noon our run for the previous 24 hours was 360 miles at sea. These are knots or nautical miles. The time from noon one day to noon the next is not 24 hours but is given as 23.3 hours.

During the afternoon and evening the sea was very rough. The wide deck sloped at times at an angle of 20 making walking difficult and sending a fellow lurching to one side or the other, unless he watched his chance or hung on to a rail or post. The chairs were all lashed fast to keep them from sliding and ropes were stretched in the middle of the promenade deck for the assistance of those walking and to keep the outer row of chairs in place. Before that was done a couple of big waves careened the boat over and four young ladies in their chairs came sliding down to the rail were we stood and landed all in a heap on the deck. The waves have been beautiful. The great swell of dark water comes rolling up and where it breaks is a mixture of the loveliest blue and green of various and changing shades crowned with white spray and creamy foam. We watch the sea and waves for hours and always see some new beauty in it. If only our dear ones and our friends at home could enjoy this grand sight with us.

We tried to play ring toss this afternoon, but the deck was too unsteady for accurate throwing. Our dinner at six was a little late, the stewards say on account of some of the victuals meeting with accidents by reason of the rolling. The tables all have had strips of walnut set on edge, fastened across them for the past 24 hours, to keep the dishes in place, but tonight we have had at times to hold many of them and some are upset. It was impossible to leave the dining room without holding on, and on arising I was thrown almost to the main table, but managed to catch on to a post coming with such force as to swing around it. We have no signs of seasickness at all and strange to say none at our table has missed a meal since leaving port. Probably half the seats were vacant in our dining room tonight. The report is that a stoker who died from the heat was buried in the sea last night, but our waiter knew nothing of it. Some of the passengers were wet to the skin by a great wave that struck us!