[The purser of the steamer Athos carried the envelope containing Charlie’s letter (#990927) and this letter of Dillie’s from Colón, Panama, to New York City, where he mailed it on October 13. According to the postmarks, the letter reached Redhaw on October 16.]
[Sept.
25, 1899]
On Board the deck of the Steamer Athos,
Atlantic
Ocean.
My Dear People at Home:
Yesterday was my first Sabbath on the ocean, and as we had ample showers of the West Indies region all day, and the ship was bouncing up and down over the whitecaps, it was somewhat difficult to write. We are now in sight of southeastern [sic] Cuba. Yesterday we saw San Salvador, [a small island in the Bahamas,] the land that Columbus first sighted [and named]. We can see trees and smoke rising in several different places. The part that we see is very hilly. I intended to write a little every day on the steamer, but in spite of all the salts, pills, phosphate acid, and other things recommended by the New York doctor I could not avoid the dreaded sea sickness, but I think Miss White was even worse than I, but Charlie has only been sick a little bit once.
I would have given anything the first two or three days to be back on land,but I can watch the rolling sea with a great deal of satisfaction now. This morning we saw two large sharks and a number of porpoises, fish somewhat larger than a man that jump up out of the water then bound back in again. We also saw a number of flying fish. I left my appetite in N. Y., but it is coming back slowly now again. It is quite warm now. We sleep most comfortably without any cover. You remember four weeks [ago] today how you all had to wait on me. Today I am tolerably well [and] think I would be quite well if I had not been seasick. We left N. Y. about 1:30 last Weds. Miss Kling and Dr. Baldwin came along to see us off. They waved their kerchiefs and umbrellas at us as far as we could see them. Sampson’s war fleet was in the harbor awaiting the arrival of [Admiral] Dewey. We also saw the “Oceania,” the largest steamer that sails the seas.
An English crew runs this steamer. The captain is a jolly big man. He has found out that I know very little about sea life, so he tells me terrible yarns then laughs at me for believing them. There are sixteen passengers on board. Among them are four Spaniards and two Italians. We have three languages spoken here. One of the Spaniards is a rich rubber merchant from Brazil. He cannot speak English, but he comes and gives us his sea glasses [sic] and motions for us to look at the lighthouse and Spanish fortifications in Cuba, which are quite visible now. His female is mixed with Negro blood. They do not have wives and take some other female to live with any time they please. They have a pretty [sic] baby ten months old. They go to Lima, in Peru; then they will ride mules about two hundred miles to the Amazon, where they will take boats into Brazil. Now, what would you think of such a journey with a baby, but they are strong enough for it.
He left his home two years ago because he got mixed in with a revolution there and is now taking this roundabout way to escape his enemies. He seems like quite a gentleman among the people here. This boat is about three hundred feet long. It has comfortable conveniences, but it is not near so pretty as the lake steamer that I was on. It has a pretty dining room but no Parlor or piano. I thought so much about our S.S. yesterday, and I sincerely hope there was no unpleasantness in the reorganization, neither would I allow myself to be mixed in with the exchange of ministers. The change might be for the worse, and no good ever comes from “prejudiced fusses.” Ada, I think we’ll get a flying machine and come to your recital. Where are you going to have it? I am sorry you have so much on your hands. It does not pay in any way to undertake too much work, and the nervous system is much more easily broken down that built up again.
Lunch is just about ready. We have our big dinners at six o’clock in the evening. We have quite a variety to eat, but I do not like their cooking at all. For my breakfast, I ate some oatmeal and two poached eggs. (eggs on toast like I fixed for Mellie once) They had many more things to eat, but I did not care for anything more. They bring coffee or tea and crackers or toast to our bedrooms every morning before we get up if we want it. I accepted [coffee or tea and crackers or toast] only once because it spoils my breakfast. I am very sorry to tell you that we passed two mail steamers but at such a great distance that we could only send our best wishes with them. We make no stops from New York to Colon, on the isthmus of Panama, and this ship stays there one week before returning to N.Y., so this will not reach you for at least three weeks, and I fear [that] you will be a little uneasy before that time, but it will be much longer before I can get any letter from home again. It takes us just one month to reach our destination after we leave Panama; we make so many stops down the
Last Thurs. we stood still (save the bounding up and down of the waves) for seven hours on account of something being wrong with the boiler. If it had not been for this, we would reach Colon in time for the mail steamer that leaves there that day for New York; then you would get this a week sooner, but as it is you will simply have to wait.
My ticket (first class) cost $223 from N.Y. to Valparaíso, Chile, and Charlie’s cost only about $183. I don’t know why they charge so much more for a lady than for a gentleman. Besides, they gave us $100 for the rest of the journey and the little expenses that we must meet. Then we give an account of all our [expenses] to the Mi
Why didn’t you say what you think about my Cleveland
When we left the harbor in the Hudson [River] the hymn “When on a quiet sea we calmly sail” etc. went pouring through my mind,but as we came out into the open sea where the waves began to roll I imagined I could hear Mellie and Ada sing “O, restless sea! O restless sea!” etc.; then, before long (when I got seasick ), I concluded it was much more pleasant to sit at a favored spot in the old Buckeye state and read poems or sing songs about the majesty and grandeur of the deep blue sea than it was to have an actual experience upon it. But this experience is certainly very typical of a journey on life’s ocean. Since I am better, snatches of “Rocked in the cradle of the deep” continually go through my mind. I do not remember much of it. We expect to land in Colón sometime Weds. Night, then we will cross the isthmus Thurs., where we expect the new steamer, Columbia, to be waiting to take us down the western coast.
Now I’ll stop writing and let [sic] Charlie a little room to write a few lines. May God’s blessing be upon you all and give [my] best wishes to all who care to have them.
` Dillie
Sept.
27 ’99.
Weds. morning
Charlie will write on another sheet [see his letter #990927, which shared the envelope with this letter] so I’ll say a few more words. I feel better this morning than I have any time on board the steamer. I also ate quite a large breakfast,which of course pleased Charlie. Ada, that little box of pins and Lloyd’s traveling outfit have been of very great service to me; and Mellie, I’m already beginning to miss your sewing. The hooks and eyes tore off my red dress skirt and, Allie, I got a few black grease spots on it that I wish you would take off for me; and Ma may put me up a lunch to cross the isthmus tomorrow. By the way, we will land tonight, cross tomorrow, and we think we can get the Columbia immediately to start down the western coast. I was just told that the Columbia is a very fine ship. It has a large parlor, a piano, a dining saloon (that is what they call dining or sitting rooms [sic] in the east and on ships without the idea of drinking connected with it). Miss White just told me that she thought my conduct was very dignified and ladylike indeed for a newly married bride. That no one would suspect that we had been recently married. Now, give me fifty cents for that puff, will you? She also said someone told her that Charlie seemed like such a devoted, kind husband—Now 25 cents more!
Well, it is nearly dinner time. It seems I ought to hear grandma’s familiar “Mail
Dinner (I mean lunch) is now over. I could not tell you what all we had, but I finished on a piece of watermelon with salt. It was good, and I feel none the worse for it. Perhaps the reason that I feel so good today is that the good wishes of friends and loved ones at home are buoying me up. Well, I must write my class letter this afternoon. I can’t write everything anyway, so wishing you all well again I must leave you for a time. The purser of this vessel will carry these letters back to N.Y. for us, where he will mail them.
Dillie
Transcribed 2015 by SMK
Posted Dec 25, 2018 at 19:20.
Revised Nov 15, 2022 at 18:40. EDT.
Retrieved May 30, 2026 at 16:55.
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