The following is an excerpt from the novel, "Then...A Patriot I'll Be". It recounts the hardships of an ocean crossing in the North Atlantic during the fierce winter months...
...Traveling by ship, though usually a faster alternative to land travel was no easy passage either. If the weather was foul than it could be sickening and most uncomfortable to say the least. Of course, it could prove deadly as well.
Passage aboard a ship was expensive. A traveler must pay for not only his room and board, but pay his family’s way as well. Of course, a duty would be placed on any cargo that he wished to carry with him on his journey. Once arriving to the dock (which sometimes could be a journey in itself), and being cleared for boarding, dock men would load the cargo into the belly of the ship. Usually buried under other cargo and supplies necessary for the long voyage, a passenger wouldn’t have access to their effects for the remainder of the trip. Each guest of the vessel would be assigned their lodging while on board. Like everything else in the world, a person’s accommodations depended on how much money they had. Should one be able to spare enough specie, perhaps a small cabin might be assigned to him and his family. This is the way a “gentleman” would travel. This cabin would consist of a small bed (more like a bunk), room for their own travelling chest, and maybe a small desk with a tiny stool. Not too opulent, but quite luxurious in contrast to the fellow without sufficient coin to secure a private room. This person’s “room” would either be a portion of a wooden bunk (on the larger ships), or a spot on the floor below deck, with sufficient space to sleep and eat. As this is how the majority of the passengers would travel, it was quite cramped quarters for those that did not have great amounts of money. You would be “boarded” side by side with strangers as you slept, and engaged with different walks of life as you ate. Due to such close quarters during travel, it is not surprising that many interesting and life-long friendships were started by acquaintances met at sea.
Money not only afforded one the luxury of a better room, or perhaps a bunk, but it also guaranteed better placement throughout the ship. The poorest of the passengers were relegated to the worst part of the vessel. At the bow, where all the up and down motion of the ship could be felt was also the area where the livestock were kept. The ship’s head was also located here, right outside below the bowsprit. Those with the least amount of money were assigned to these parts. They slept and ate amongst the filth of animals, and the vomiting of each other. Sickened by the rocking of the boat through rough seas, and the stench of the livestock, this was the berths of the poor, and a place nobody wanted to be.
The private cabins and upper class of the passengers were toward the stern of the ship, strategically placed as far from these vile wretches as possible. Under the captain and officers cabins, this is the part of the ship that did not move so violently during a sea voyage. As the bow absorbed the ups and downs of the ship, and the crashing of the waves, the stern was cushioned from these discomforts at the back of the ship.
The common passengers were squeezed in along the middle of the ship. “Amidships”, as the sailors and crew would call it. This section made up the greater portion of the passengers, and was considered a rather “common” way to travel by sea.
Aside from the “comforts” afforded below deck, passengers would have limited access to the weather deck outside, providing they did not interfere with the work of the crew, or generally “get in the way” of the conducting of the ship’s business. When out on the deck, this allowed the travelers their only true enjoyment of a cool breeze and daylight, as well as escaping the ever present stench below decks. On these days many would be seen reading a book, or engaging in pleasant conversation, excited to be out from their humid, airless berth places below, and reaping the benefits of the sun warming their faces, and the wind blowing through their hair.
On days with particularly bad weather and rough seas, the passengers were expected to stay below decks. Enforcing this rule however, was never a problem, once the boarded guests experienced their first instance of a giant swell moving the ship on its side, or the whitewater of a wave washing across the deck as the bow moved into an oncoming crest. It was then a mad rush to get back down to the relative safety of their quarters, and back to reading and conversing by candlelight; That is, as my father used to joke, “If they were able to keep their heads from firmly inhabiting the inside of a bucket”.
When traveling by ship, one must realize that they are truly at the mercy of Mother Nature and all of her elements. Rough weather and high seas could put a vessel off of its intended course, causing a delay in arrival. After encountering a particularly bad storm, the ship may be forced to make for the nearest port in order to repair the damaged vessel. Repairs could take weeks to finish before putting out to sea once again; further increasing the time it took to get to its intended destination. Most importantly, a ship is at all times at the mercy of the wind. If encountering an agreeable breeze, the journey could be faster, and much more pleasurable. However, if the air is stagnant with no wind at all, it could make a sea going trip dreadful. It has not been strange to hear of entire fleets of ships floating aimlessly in the ocean for weeks while waiting for favorable winds. Not only would this increase the length of the voyage, it can quickly dwindle supplies, increase superstitions among the sailors, and expose all on the ship, passenger and crew alike, to the never ending boredom of days wasted bobbing through the sea with no direction to go.
As this type of passage created hardship and discomfort on a daily basis for those traveling during the summer months in the calmest of weather, it had the capability of being no short of a complete terror during the winter months that consisted of storms of rain, ice, snow, fierce unruly seas, and wind gusts that could rip a sail in half. Sailors told tales of waves high enough to knock a man off the topmast of the largest ship with ease. The infamous northeastern storms of the area were said to be so fierce that between wind and waves, a ship could be ripped clear in half in the blink of an eye. Indeed, the north Atlantic was no place to be in the winter months. Father would say, “There is no place better to be than in the north Atlantic enjoying the calm breezes and mild seas of summer, but there is no place worse to be than in the north Atlantic during the winter when the ocean unleashes its indiscriminate fury”.
The entrance to Boston harbor in particular is not friendly to mariners seeking respite from the north Atlantic during a horrible storm. There are many shoals, rock formations, and bars that line the entrance to the harbor, and many times, vessels believing the safety of the harbor would save them from the brutality of the ocean wound up crushed upon the rocks while attempting to navigate the thin channels of the outer harbor.
To a mariner, this was a harsh time to be at sea. These were brave men that had more experience amongst the waves than they did on the land. Salt from the sea coursed through their veins, and the weathered looks on their faces told that this was true. Now, if this time was challenging for an experienced sailor to be at sea, one can only imagine what it was like for the common gentleman of the land to endure such a passage.
Perhaps, leaving the Bahaman islands in August bound for Massachusetts, travelling north and enjoying the nice island air and calm beautiful seas, an unwary traveler may think of the passage as pleasurable, and not at all as disagreeable as he had been told it could be. “This is to be a most relaxing trip indeed”, I’m sure he would imagine. His vessel continues its enjoyable voyage, but now it is around September, and they are just about to begin the next leg of their journey, when they are brought to a halt. They are now devoid of a breeze, and have been waiting two weeks for favorable winds to arrive. Boredom briefly sets in, but still an agreeable journey so far. Finally moving on with the wind, toward the end of September, early October the ship has reached Maryland and Delaware. Our traveler can now feel the wind has some bite to it, and it is not so pleasurable to be out on deck in the late hours. However, during the daytime, it is still quite comfortable indeed. Cruising in the north Atlantic, just past New York, it is now close to the end of October and the winds are really picking up. The seas are getting higher, and are beginning to seem agitated. As rain is a constant, less and less time is spent for our traveler on deck. Preferring the security below in his berth is where he chooses to be. As the ship starts to rock and shift, he feels uneasy, and a bit seasick. This once jovial man previously enjoying his passage, has not held down a meal in days, and is in most want of comfort, though it doesn’t arrive. It is now the beginning of November as the ship must set a course north/northeast in order to avoid the shoals off Cape Cod. Now, in the middle of the northern Atlantic, in the dead of winter, our passenger will experience the horror he was told of first hand, and will realize that what he had heard was no fairy tale. It starts with more intense rocking of the ship from side to side. The waves pick up. Growing and growing in size and strength, they toss the ship about like a child’s toy. The bow digs in and crashes into the trough of a wave, while a wall of water engulfs the deck. This is only the first dive into the base of the waves. There will be many more to come. The winds are fierce, cutting through the faces of the brave men on deck. Here comes the rain and the ice. The mixture of sea water cascading over the deck and the intense driving rain gets harder, water leaks through the hatch covers and starts to trickle down below deck. The passengers, witnessing this waterfall start into a panic. “We are taking on water, and we are sure to go to the bottom”! The ship itself begins to creek and moan, as if she was in pain herself. Crying and screaming echoes through the ships decks, and praying is heard in small groups of the terrified passengers as they prepare to meet their maker.
Above deck, the weather continues to batter the ship. The captain bellows his orders to his subordinates, even though they find it hard to hear him, “batten down the hatches my brave lads, pull in the sails. We will do what we can to ride her out!” He yells. “If we make it to mornings light, we will be in fine spirits”. The ship takes another dip into the base of a wave, and comes out riding on the crest some twenty feet above the sea. She drops with a huge plunge, and a monster of a wave sweeps over the deck. The force of this wall of water snaps the mizzen (rear) mast in half, and the remains of the mast smash to the deck creating a pressure wave through the ship, intensifying the fear felt by the passengers below. The crew scrambles to cut away the mast before it drags the ship to the bottom. Just as the mast and rigging are free of the ship, the thunder begins to crack across the sea, and lightning lights up the night. The ship is holding her own. She is battered, but is staying seaworthy. During the remainder of the night, the vessel battles for her life. The seas continue to toss her around like a cork in a swinging bucket of water, and the winds abuse her as well.
At day break, the saga is over. The storm has passed, blue skies have returned, and the ship has survived. Not a soul on board slept that night, both passenger and crew alike. The bashed hulk of a vessel slowly navigates toward Boston harbor as best she could in her beaten state. Carefully rounding the cape, and skillfully avoiding the barriers and shoals upon the entrance, she limps into the inner harbor, and makes her way toward the wharves. She ties up to the dock, and the townsfolk come out to see this shell of a once proud ship, and gather to hear the stories of how she narrowly survived the storm in the north Atlantic. Our friend, the traveler that at once thought his journey to be most peaceful, exits off the gangway, and onto the dock. This man has survived the passage, but barely. It turned out to be the most harrowing experience of his life. This “pleasure cruise” had almost aged him farther than his years told. He was lucky. He survived the adventure, and would never take such a cruise lightly again. In the north Atlantic, especially in winter, many a mariner, and passenger had not been so fortunate. Though this traveler can now rest easy in his new surroundings with all of his possessions intact, there are those that rest on the bottom of the sea, devoid of life, and their now meaningless possessions...
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