Authors: Margaret Atwood
So he put a good front on it, and said it was a new start in life, and it was generous of my Uncle Roy, and he would regard the passage money as a loan and would pay it back as soon as he began to prosper; and Uncle Roy pretended to believe him. He had no wish to humiliate my father, only to see the last of him. As for his generosity, I suppose he thought it would be best to bite the bullet and pay out one large sum of money, rather than to be bled to death over the years penny by penny; and in his shoes I would have done the same.
And so all was set in motion. It was decided that we would sail at the end of April, as that way we would arrive in the Canadas at the beginning of summer, and have the warm weather while we got ourselves well settled. Much planning went on between Aunt Pauline and my mother, and a good deal of sorting and packing; and both tried to be cheerful, but both were downheartened. After all they were sisters, and had been through thick and thin, and they knew that once the ship set sail it was not likely they would ever see each other again in this life.
My Aunt Pauline brought a good linen sheet, only a little flawed, from the shop; and a thick warm shawl, as she’d heard it was cold on the other side of the ocean; and a little wicker hamper, and inside it, packed in straw, a china teapot, and two cups and saucers, with roses
on them. And my mother thanked her very much, and said how good she had been to her always, and that she would treasure the teapot forever, in remembrance of her.
And there was a great deal of quiet weeping.
W
e went up to Belfast in a cart hired by my uncle, which was a long journey and very jolting, but it did not rain much. Belfast was a large and stony city, the biggest place I had ever been in, and clattering with wagons and carriages. It had some grand buildings, but also many poor people, who worked in the linen mills day and night. The gas lamps were lit as we arrived in the evening, which were the first I ever saw; and they were just like moonlight, only greener in colour.
We slept at an inn which was so thick with fleas you would have thought it was a dog kennel; and we took all of the boxes into the room with us so as not to be robbed of our earthly goods. I didn’t have the chance to see much more, as in the morning we had to get on board the ship at once, and so I hustled the children along. They did not understand where we were going, and to tell you the truth, Sir, I don’t believe any of us did.
The ship was lying alongside the dock; it was a heavy hulking brute that had come across from Liverpool, and later I was told that it brought logs of wood eastward from the Canadas, and emigrants
westward the other way, and both were viewed in much the same light, as cargo to be ferried. The people were already going aboard with all their bundles and boxes, and some of the women were wailing a good deal; but I did not do so, as I did not see the use of it, and our father was looking grim and in need of silence, and not in any mood to spare the back of his hand.
The ship was rocking to and fro with the swell, and I did not trust it at all. The younger children were excited, the boys in particular, but my heart sank within me because I had never been on a ship, not even the small fishing boats in our harbour, and I knew we were to sail across the ocean, out of sight of land, and if we were to be in a shipwreck or fall overboard, not one of us could swim.
I saw three crows sitting in a row on the crossbeam of the mast, and my mother saw them too, and she said it was bad luck, for three crows in a row meant a death. I was surprised at her saying this, as she was not a superstitious woman; but I suppose she was melancholy, for as I have noticed, those who are depressed in spirits are more likely to consider bad omens. But I was badly frightened by it, although I did not show it because of the young children: if they saw me taking on, they would do so as well, and there was enough noise and tumult already.
Our father put on a brave appearance and strode ahead up the gangplank, carrying the largest bundle of clothing and bedding, and gazing around him as if he knew all about it and was not afraid; but our mother came up very sadly, with her shawl drawn around her, shedding furtive tears, and she wrung her hands and said to me, Oh what has driven us to this, and as we stepped on board the ship she said, My foot will never touch land again. And I said, Mother, why do you say that? And she said, I feel it in my bones.
And so it turned out.
Our father paid to have our larger boxes carried aboard and stowed away; it was a shame to waste the money but it was the only
way to do it, as he could not carry all the things on by himself, as the porters were coarse and importunate, and would have hindered him. The deck was very crowded, with many comings and goings, and the men shouting to us to get out of their way. The boxes we would not need on board were taken to a special room, which was to be kept locked to prevent thievery, and the store of food which we had brought with us for the voyage had its own place too; but the blankets and sheets went below into our beds; and our mother insisted on keeping Aunt Pauline’s teapot with her, as she did not want to let it out of her sight; and she tied the wicker hamper to the upright post of the bed with a piece of twine.
Where we were to sleep was below the deck, down a greasy ladder into what they called the hold, which was built all through with beds. Hard rough wooden slabs they were, poorly nailed together and six feet long and six feet wide, with two persons to each, and three or four if children; and two layers of them, one on top of the other, with scarcely the room to squeeze in between. When you were in the bottom bed there was no space to sit up fully, as if you tried it you banged your head on the bed above; and if you were in the top one you stood more chance of tumbling out, and farther to fall if you did. It was everyone together, crammed in like herrings in a box, and no windows or any way of letting in the air, except the hatchways that led down. Already the air was close enough, but nothing like how it got later on. We had to snatch our beds and put our things on them at once, there was such a shove and scramble, and I did not want us to be separated, with the children alone and frightened in a strange place at night.
We set sail at noon, when all was stowed aboard. Once they had raised the gangplank and there was no way back to land, we were summoned by bell for an address from the Captain, who was leathery-skinned and a Scot from the south. He told us we must obey the
rules of the ship, and that there must be no cooking fires made, as all our food would be cooked by the ship’s cook if brought promptly at the bell; and no smoking of pipes, especially below decks, as it could lead to fires, and those who could not do without tobacco could always chew and spit. And there was to be no washing of clothes, except on the days when the weather was right, and he would be the judge of that; for if it was too blustery we would lose our possessions overboard, and if it rained the hold would be full of wet steamy cloth at night, and he gave us his word for it that this was not a thing we would enjoy.
Also there was to be no bringing of bedding up on deck to air it without permission, and all were to obey the orders of himself and the First Mate, and any of the other officers, as the ship’s safety depended on it; and in case of breach of discipline we would have to be locked up in a cubby-hole, so he hoped no one would be tempted to try his patience. Furthermore, he said, drunkenness would not be tolerated, as it led to falling down; we could get as drunk as a lord once ashore, but not on his ship; and for our own safety we were not allowed up on deck at night, as then we might be lost overboard. His sailors were not to be interfered with in their duties, nor bribed for favours; and he had eyes in the back of his head, and would know it immediately if attempted. As his men could testify, he ran a tight ship, and on the open seas the Captain’s word was law.
In case of illness there was a doctor on board, but most could expect to feel unwell until they got their sea legs, and the doctor was not to be pestered with trifles such as a little seasickness; and if all went well we would be on land again in six or eight weeks’ time. In conclusion, he wished to say that every ship afloat had a rat or two aboard, and this was a sign of luck because it was the rats who knew first when a ship was fated to sink, so he did not want to be bothered about it, should some well-bred lady happen to catch sight of one. He supposed none of us had ever seen a rat before – at this there was
laughter – but in case we were curious, he had one fresh killed, and very appetizing too should we be hungry. There was more laughter, as it was a joke he was telling, to set us more at ease.
When the laughter had stopped he said that to sum it up, his ship was not Buckingham Palace, and we were not the Queen of France, and like everything else in this life you got what you paid for. And he wished us a pleasant voyage. Then he retired to his cabin, and left us to sort ourselves out as best we could. In his heart he most likely wished us all at the bottom of the sea, so long as he could keep the money for our transport. But at least he seemed to know what he was about, and that made me feel easier. I needn’t tell you that many of his instructions were not followed, especially as to the smoking and drinking; but those indulging had to be sly about it.
At first things did not go too badly. The clouds thinned and there was fitful sunlight, and I stayed on deck and watched them tacking the boat out of the harbour, and as long as we were in the shelter of the land I did not mind the motion. But as soon as we were out upon the Irish Sea and they ran up more of the sails, I began to feel strange and sick, and soon lost my breakfast into the scuppers, holding a little one by each hand who was doing the same. I was by no means alone, as many others were lined up like pigs at a trough. Our mother was prostrated, and our father was sicker than I was, so neither of them was any use with the children. It was fortunate we had eaten no dinner, or things would have been much worse with us. The sailors were ready for this, having seen it before, and they hauled up many buckets of salt water to wash all away.
After a while I was better; it may have been the fresh sea air, or that I was getting accustomed to the rolling and heaving of the ship, and also, if you’ll excuse me for putting it this way, Sir, there was nothing left to be sick with; and as long as I was above on the deck I did not feel so ill. There was no question of any supper for our
family, as all were too indisposed; but a sailor told me that if we could drink some water and nibble on a piece of ship’s biscuit it would be better for us; and as we had laid in a supply of biscuit on my uncle’s instructions, we did this as best we could.
Thus things were a little improved until nightfall, and then we had to go below, when they became much worse. As I have said, all the passengers were stuffed in together, with no walls between, and most as sick as dogs; and so not only could you hear the retchings and groanings of your neighbours, which made you sick just to listen to them, but hardly any air got in, and so the hold became fouler and fouler and the stench was enough to turn your stomach inside out.
And if you’ll forgive me for mentioning this, Sir, there were no proper ways to relieve yourself. There were buckets provided, but in plain view of all, or they would have been if there had been any light; but as it was, there were gropings in the dark, and curses, and buckets being overturned by mistake, and even if the bucket remained upright, what didn’t go into it went onto the floor. Happily it was none too solid a floor, so at least some went below into the bilge. It did make me reflect, Sir, that there are times when women with their skirts are better off than men with their trousers, for at least we carry around with us a sort of natural tent, whereas the poor men had to stagger about with their trousers down around their ankles. But as I say, there was not much light.
What with the pitching and surging of the ship, and the creaking it made, and the sloshing of the waves, and the noise and the stink, and the rats running to and fro as bold as lords and ladies, it was like being a suffering soul in Hell. I thought of Jonah in the belly of the whale, but at least he only had to stay there three days, and we had eight weeks of it ahead of us; and he was in the belly all by himself, and did not have to listen to the moaning and vomiting of others.
After several days it did improve, as the seasickness of many subsided; but the air was always foul at night, and there were always
noises. Less retching, to be sure, but more coughing and snores; and also a good deal of crying and praying, which can be understood under the circumstances.
But I did not mean to offend your sensibilities, Sir. The ship was after all only a sort of slum in motion, though without the gin shops; and I hear they have got better ships now.
Perhaps you would like to open the window.
There was one good effect of all the suffering. The passengers were Catholic and Protestant mixed, with some English and Scots come over from Liverpool thrown into the bargain; and if in a state of health, they would have squabbled and fought, as there is no love lost. But there is nothing like a strong bout of seasickness to remove the desire for a scrap; and those who would cheerfully have cut each other’s throats on land, were often to be seen holding each other’s heads over the scuppers, like the tenderest of mothers; and I have sometimes noted the same thing in prison, as necessity does make strange bedfellows. A sea voyage and a prison may be God’s reminder to us that we are all flesh, and that all flesh is grass, and all flesh is weak. Or so I choose to believe.
After several days I had my sea legs, and so I could fetch and carry up and down the ladder to the deck, and see about the meals. Each family supplied its own food, which was brought to the ship’s cook and put into a net bag, and plunged into a cauldron of boiling water and boiled along with the meals of the others; and so you got not only your own dinner, but a taste of what the others were eating as well. Salt pork we had, and salt beef; we had some onions and potatoes, though not many of these because of the weight; and dried peas, and a cabbage which was soon gone, as I felt we should eat it before it wilted. The oatmeal we had could not be boiled in the main cauldron, but was mixed up with hot water and left to steep, and the tea as well. And we had biscuit, as I said before.