ER voyage to America

Regina (steamer on the Atlantic) January 23

It is still early in the morning. Just now a bell is waking the passengers, but I have been up for half an hour enjoying a morning walk on the still empty deck.  I want to use the rest of the time I have before breakfast to tell of life aboard ship. I tried to settle at the deck in the lounge but the air downstairs was so stuffy that I quickly returned to the deck.

With the exception of nights and mealtimes, I spend my time on deck anyway. Reading, chatting or just dreaming fills the hours and time passes slowly as one day follows another.

Today is the fourth day at sea and on the ninth, that is Monday, we are to land in New York. The weather has been fine until now, the ocean quiet and no seasickness so far, just a disagreeable feeling. I will be glad to stand on good solid earth again.

As mentioned before, we left Liverpool on January 20th. As we watched the view of the receding city, our first poor impressions were considerably changed to the good. The west coast here is rather steep. Spacious terraced gardens lead from the imposing mansions down to the beaches, where a boat is anchored here and there. I am fascinated by the seagulls, as they gracefully glide through the air or ride the waves.

Long I stood at the rail, watching the day change into night, the moon reflecting in the ocean and one light tower after another sending its searchlights across the water, showing the way to the ships.

We woke refreshed and after a tasty breakfast, gathered on deck again. Our ship anchored at the harbor of Kingstown and for a long time afterwards we could see the coast of Ireland, until eventually we were surrounded by nothing but the wide ocean. 

There were no Sunday services on board, so Uncle Will read a sermon and we sang many songs, which we all knew by memory.

Regina, January 26, 1923

Two fearful days lie behind us, which we will try to forget as soon as possible. The violent storm caused most passengers to be sick, among them was I, of course. It’s really a bad situation. I would much rather endure a severe illness on solid ground than have to helplessly submit to the merciless rocking of the ship. The first morning I rose but could not walk down to breakfast. It was very much appreciated though that the steward and other passengers showed concern and kindness. One brought an orange, another offered to bring breakfast up, some had one advice or another. But all day long I laid almost motionless on one of the benches on deck. One passenger tried humor and asked if I had taken root. The second day of the storm and waves were even more violent. One gets weak and is not able to stand at all.

The calm sea and balmy air, what permitted me to wake refreshed and happy this morning is really my birthday present. This, my 25th birthday, which I am spending in the midst of the Atlantic, will not easily be forgotten.

As I stepped on deck early in the morning, I faced a breathtaking scene. The water was calm and dark blue, the blue sky above gorgeously painted in lines of red and gold, foretelling the rising of the sun. Shortly, the red rays disappeared and slowly and majestically the sun made its appearance above the horizon.

There were other early risers admiring the sunrise. Among them was an Englishman, who started to converse with me. This was the first try of my very limited English vocabulary. Then my uncle and aunt came up, and also my brothers, congratulating me on my birthday. This morning, all the faces looked well and happy. The larger part of the ocean voyage has passed, in a few days we expect to arrive in New York.

After breakfast, which tasted good this morning, I spent the morning writing. Some passengers are passing time by playing a deck game. It consists of throwing rings, trying to make them land on a peg. Some are very skillful at it and it is fun to watch. At ten o’clock, we are to appear in the dining hall, which also serves for assembly for another medical inspection. We trust all will go well.

Regina, January 28, 1923

Our transatlantic trip is actually nearing its end. Tomorrow afternoon we are to land in New York. Yesterday and the day before we had another storm with high waves and I fled to my bunk, which after all, is the best place to be in.

Today is Sunday, the second aboard ship. Our family, which by now consists of my uncle and aunt, Mrs. K. and little Frieda, my two brothers and myself, had our own devotion in the ladies’ lounge.

The sea is calm but it is too cold to be on deck. Most passengers are in the large dining room whiling away the time. This evening, there is to be an orchestra performance. Last evening, there was an amateur show for the benefit of the crew. I did not attend, preferring to retire early. There is not much to write about on the ship. On the trip through the United States we no doubt will see much that will provide material of interest.