Monday, September 11, 1854 ~ At sea

A Sea ~ We had a severe gale in the night, which kept Captain Knowles up until daylight, our great ship was tossed about like a bubble and I confess I had no idea of a blow at sea until I heard the roar of the wind through the rigging last night. I went on deck at nine o’clock, and then it was so dark I could not see my own hand before my face, and the wind was so high that I couldn’t stand on the deck without holding on to some stationary object – it was from the Westward and we ran before it under double reefed topsails. All the cabin passengers slept in their clothes last night. As the storm was commencing a poor fellow, one of the steerage passengers, was dropt into his watery tomb, he died at five in the afternoon, and about eight the body was sewed up in its bedclothes and thus consigned to the sea. He was a Catholic and had friends on board who would have no service performed. We in the cabin did not hear of the death until all was over. This morning the wind blew hard, but the waves were not particularly high, owing to its having changed in the night. This morning we ran 70 miles along side of a large ship, bound for Liverpool, our relative positions in that run only changing a quarter of a mile. She is still this evening as near us as ever. Professor Treadwell and the Captain have been marking her progress by the compass. Captain Knowles informs us that he never knew such close sailing before. Our cabin is veneered on all sides beautifully, but when there is much motion it is really hard to make one’s self heard there, the creaking of the wood is so great. In a palace this cabin would make a perfect gem of a boudoir, but here it seems to us decidedly out of place. The walls are veneered throughout with mahogany inlaid with (white) satin wood, and the ceiling is handsomely gilded. It is painful to contemplate the possibility of its becoming in a few years the resort of a merry whalemans crew. To what base uses do we come at last! Mrs. Treadwell, and other ladies of the passengers are laying about the cabin floor again on mattresses, reading etc., the rough weather makes them feel a little inclined to be sick again. And how miserably they look!

Thursday, August 31st 1854 ~ At sea

At sea ~ The ship is somewhat less crank today and the wind more favorable. All the lady passengers made their appearance at the breakfast table for the first time this morning and it really seems like quite an event in our very quiet life. Mrs. Treadwell only came with a great effort that she might not be the last. She has passed the greater part of the day heretofore extended on a mattress on the cabin floor. After breakfast we had a game of shuffle-board on deck, where we remained reading, studying French etc. We were on deck also in the afternoon. All feel well enough now to enjoy the new life. Our time goes quickly, so much so that we read but little. It is an unfailing pleasure to watch the ever-changing swelling waters. It is still pleasant without over coats or shawls. We see large banks of seaweed every few moments. This afternoon a school of porpoises were playing about the ship, springing out of the water every few moments and then swimming so near the surface as to be distinctly seen in their rapid course - we are moving from ten to twelve knots per hour and yet they pass us as if we were standing still. A sail appeared and in the distance this afternoon. In the evening we sat upon the deck listening to the Doctor’s flute, and exercising our melodious voices in the Ave Maria, Home Sweet Home etc. At nine o’clock we descended to the cabin and had a game of “old-maid,” Alice much frightened but not hurt!! Prof. Treadwell today thought I would not dare to go aloft, there being no “lubber-holes” in the “tops”. I made the attempt and succeeded, when I returned he desired to put his hand on my wrist to see “how the pulse went.” Dr. Gallup reads French to us and has become in a measure our teacher. In the steerage are two poor women in the consumption who are returning to Ireland to die, our days are also numbered and be they shorter or longer they will pass like a dream in the night, or the shadow of a cloud, and the places that have known us shall know us no more forever and we shall be called upon to render an account to our Maker. Looking upon the vast expanse around us should teach us humility and our own littleness in the presence of Him who holds the ocean in the hollow of his hand.