Chapter 2
Crossing the Atlantic
April 10, 1936. At 7 PM, the Jean Jadot quietly slipped away from the dock. Before most of us on board knew it, we were out to sea. As our ship was mainly a cargo carrier with only a few passengers, there was no hoopla of horns, streamers or whistles to signal our departure. On deck we watched the glorious Statue of Liberty and the New York sky line gradually fade from view in the approaching darkness.
At 7pm, the Jean Jadot quietly slipped away from the dock. New York, Apr 10, 1936. (E1-21). |  |
My cabin, located in the middle of the ship on the extreme left hand or port side, was about ten by twelve feet in size and had two bunks. It was painted white except for the medium-brown mahogany woodwork trim, drapes over the ports, a drape at the door, and sort of black floor covered with a rug. It was very clean and comfortable. There was ample space for clothes in the closets and various drawers which were here and there. We had electric lights not only from the center of the cabin but also over each bunk. In addition, we merely had to press the button for steward service. There were six cabins such as mine. Also there were two restrooms, one women's and one men's.
On the lower deck was the dining room finished in mahogany, nicely furnished and equipped with a radio/gramophone of good quality. Adjoining was the bar and smoking room finished in oak and well appointed. Everything was kept very clean.
The food was excellent, well prepared and in great quantities. A typical meal might consist of vegetable soup, sweetbreads with mushrooms, radishes and celery, veal with potatoes and a vegetable, cheese of your choice and dessert of an apple, orange, or pastry. There was considerable variety from day to day. We had pork, veal, beef steak, hot dogs, lobster, and fish of several kinds. However, all the food was prepared in the French style; consequently it was very rich and I had difficulty in adapting myself to it.
The ship itself was about 400 feet long and heavy enough to ride the waves nicely (as I thought then). It was capable of making 300 miles in 24 hours in favorable weather. The cargo this trip consisted mainly of automobiles, tires and steel.
At the outset of the voyage I knew I was to have a companion in my cabin so I was quite curious about what he would be like. Finally, just before we sailed, a dark skinned individual of about my age and size came aboard. A few minutes later I entered our stateroom to find him putting his things away. In my most friendly English I said, "I see that we are to be roommates." To which he replied, "No speak English, senor."
I was astounded. I could not remember any Spanish! I frantically searched my traveling bags and hauled forth my little book on the Spanish language. I read it over to refresh my memory on vocabulary phrases and it was surprising how quickly a great deal of it came back to me. We carried on a conversation in Spanish interrupted by long silences in which I searched my book for words to say or tried to decipher words he said. I found out that his name was Dr. Sone, he was 26 years old, he had graduated from a school in Santo Domingo as a Doctor of Medicine and he was going to Antwerp to complete his studies.
In the cabin next to ours was a very serious looking man in his mid-fifties. His deep-set dark eyes looking through rimless glasses perched upon his long narrow nose gave him a shrewd and scholarly look. His English was painfully slow but invariably correct. His accent, although comparatively slight, marked him as from the Old World. His appearance told me he was from Belgium. He introduced himself as Louis Cohn or Monsieur Cohn, the man who raises rabbits in New York.
His great delight was to tell us about his rabbit farm and he would begin in a slow, well enunciated manner: "And when I was on the farm, in the morning I was as hungry as an old cat, and I would prepare for myself a small simple little breakfast...yes? And first I would take some oatmeal and putting it in some hot water I would let it simmer, do you say, on the fire. And when it was thoroughly cooked I would eat of it two or three large bowls (and he'd demonstrate with his hands). And then, in the summer time I would have two or three bowls of nice, fresh raspberries... yes? And then, taking two or three potatoes which I had boiled the night before... yes? And, cutting them in flat pieces would fry them in my griddle. And then I would eat these. And, perhaps if I were really hungry I would fry a couple of eggs and a half a dozen slices of bacon. And the, finishing my breakfast, I would have six or seven cups of good strong coffee. Then I was ready to go out in my farm and work hard... hard I say, man, feeding the rabbits and cleaning the hutches. And then, upon getting hungry again, about two o'clock..." and so forth forever.
It was vastly amusing for the first day or so but having repeated this daily routine at least once in each of the ten days we were out to sea we became a trifle tired of it.
We discovered at the dinner table, however, that Louis Cohn could speak as fluently in Spanish with Doctor Sone as he would in English, and with the same degree of accuracy. Of course, being a Belgian, his native language was French. His reason for visiting Belgium was apparently to see his mother whom he had left nine years before.
The next cabin is occupied by a very plain, good-hearted Belgian woman of some forty years. Her name is Madame Josephine Jordeans. She spoke broken English, had lived in New York for seven years, and had a husband and three children. She is making a short trip to Belgium to see her mother.
The next two cabins were occupied by Mr. and Mrs. Cobble and their two babies ages about 1 and 2. They were American missionaries and were going to the Belgian Congo. Mr. Cobble had been there four years already and Mrs. Cobble two and a half years. In fact, Mrs. Cobble, who was a well educated young woman of about 28 and a daughter of missionaries, had gone all the way to Africa from America to marry Mr. Cobble. At the end of Mr. Cobble's fourth year they returned to America only to be sent out again for another four years.
The last passenger was in a cabin apart from us and equipped with a private bath. His name was Scharlach. He was a little fellow about 5 foot 4 inches tall with a round, pink, bland face. Whenever he smiled it was only a silly-looking grin spread across his face almost from ear to ear. He was returning from a three month business trip to Santa Domingo. His home office, of which he was a director, is in Antwerp. He kept me guessing as to what he really was. He seemed to be well traveled and talked like a business man. It occurred to me that he could be Jewish and a secret service man or he could be both. I'm really skeptical of him. He is too interested in what everybody else is doing.
The Captain is the next outstanding individual. He is at our table for dinner. He comes to dinner singing and from then on till dinner is over he is jabbering away in a meaningless, boisterous, and good natured fashion in Spanish to Sone, French to Jordeans, Scharlach, and Cohn, and English to me. He mixes his Spanish with French, his English with French and Spanish, and Lord knows he mixes his French with a bottle of beer. He is certainly a happy clown. He is a great teaser and joker and unless one takes what he says good naturedly, one will always be insulted. His only failing is that every night after supper while we are talking over our cups of coffee he drinks too much.
At the other table are the Cobbles and two officers of the ship. For our coffee, we would adjourn to the adjoining salon and talk on various subjects. That is, when Captain Gonthier chose to talk and not to argue with one or the other of us.
The first day out I felt fine until the evening supper. The ship had begun to pitch and roll a little and as I sat at the table with the walls and ceiling "heaving" up and down, I began to feel extremely weak. I left the table hurriedly and scampered upstairs to the lavatory, and it was well I did because I was just in time.
Feeling relieved I returned to the table. All eyes were upon me suspectingly (I guess I did look white) but I said nothing and neither did they. I was only at the table for a few minutes when I had another hurried call. Twice in one evening was too much. This time I stayed in my room and rang for service. I was determined to eat something because I understood it was best to do so. The steward brought me an apple, orange, and crackers which I tried to eat. Meanwhile Sone had come in and was lying on his bed holding his stomach and groaning. Suddenly I had another call and hastily left the cabin.
Upon returning I noticed the wash basin in our cabin was "full". I opened the door wider and Sone warned me in Spanish to be careful where I stepped. The floor was "covered". Sone was helplessly and sheepishly sitting up in bed ringing the steward who immediately came up and cheerfully cleaned house for us while I was on one side of the room grunting and Sone on the other side groaning.
A little later the steward, Theo, brought me a book to read to "make me forget I was sea sick" as he said. I immediately became interested in the book and gingerly munched my crackers. I was almost afraid to eat. I discovered that if I ate very, very slowly, I could keep things down. I could eat only crackers, raw vegetables and fresh fruit. I could not drink water, soup or eat meat.
For four days Sone and I kept to our cabin, rubbing our stomachs and moaning to each other how badly we felt. During that time I read five novels, more than I've read during the past five years. Finally, on the 14th of April, we both went down to the noon meal. That afternoon I didn't feel so well, so I had the evening meal in bed. On the 15th I felt almost well, and it was good that I did because a storm blew up with such intensity that we were driven 500 miles to the North of our course.
The wind howled and the waves broke over the deck. The ship pitched and rolled at sickening angles. Fortunately I did not get sick. At first we had trouble with the tableware sliding off the tables. Captain Gonthier fixed that. He poured water on the table cloth and that was enough to hold the tableware in place.
The storm was even worse the next day. Captain Gonthier did not join us for meals during the rest of the storm. I hopefully assumed he was in the wheel house and not sea sick or drunk. I tried to obtain pictures of waves as they dashed 50 feet in the air and broke into spray across the deck.
The pictures were not too spectacular, but I became wringing wet and so did the camera. The next day was sunny, the only clear day on the whole trip. The waves and wind had subsided and the storm was over.
Monday we sighted Bishop's Point, England at noon. We were all excited and no wonder, for it had been a long time (11 days) since we had seen land. We passed Dover and at 10 PM on April 21, 1936, we docked at Antwerp, Belgium.
Antwerp, Belgium's greatest port, was located inland a few miles up the Scheldt River. All of us were in good spirits and eager for the morning and the new things just beyond our view. We were happy together, but I believe we were all glad the long trip was finished. When I thought of the months required to make the same journey in sailing vessels, the crowded conditions, the hardships suffered by men, women and small children, I marveled that so many emigrants had the courage and endurance to travel to America in the early days.
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