The After the Trip Letter

We saw the hills of India for hours before we came alongside at Madras. There was only one white person, on the quay, and she was meeting me! Jo and I had  parted in New York four months before, saying, "See you in India in January!" and here we actually were! I had to pinch myself! We had a most delightful evening with mutual friends (we had been graduate students together) who teach in the college at Saidapet. 

And that aggravating boat WOULD sail that same night...cargo first, last, and whenever.

Side note: Only with kismet could two people plan to meet up on a dock several months into the future and then actually do it, right?? Nope. They organized it somehow, even while they were both be-bopping about to different parts of the world, in 1938.

And who is this ‘Jo’, you ask?! Stay tuned!

(For historical context: Madras is now Chennai and Saidapet is and was a neighborhood there.)

The Day to Day Journal

Side note: The journal starts the day before she gets to Madras and to her friend Jo. For here we start while she’s cruising alongside the lovely and lush Ceylon coast…

[Present location:] Lat. 6° 41' N

Tue. Jan. 4: Saw porpoises leaping, many ships visible, sails along the East Coast of Ceylon, mountainous. 

Took a Lat. And figured our course by dead reckoning.

1 anna - 2 ½ cents (round coin, square edge) 
1/12 anna = pie (copper)

Wed. Jan. 5: Study and the traverse tables are about to get me down. Saw India this afternoon. Could see Madras by 4:00 p.m. 

The jetty has a tricky double S curve, I thot my eyes deceived me but the glass confirmed that Jo Rathbone was standing on the quay. It seemed eons before the gangplank went down and our passports stamped — marvelous to see her. Jo's driver got a car for the other passengers and it turned out that Katy came with us, to be dropped at the Theosophical Society H.Q., drove thru spacious grounds to a beautiful building. 

Had a panoramic impression of the city as we drove thru at sunset. Stopped at the Cannemora Hotel, very swank European, many of the business buildings have domes and minarets. Everywhere flags and bunting are draped for the visit of the Viceroy next week. The members of the Indian Congress are not to be present at the reception and all Europeans are commanded to be on hand.

Side note: Jo, mentioned in the letter above, was the one and only Dr. Josephine Rathbone. In her storied career, she worked to advance physical and physical education therapy, she wrote textbooks about health; she ran a relaxation clinic, and at Columbia was into yoga waaaay before it was made hip in the west. After then, she was co-founder of what would become American College of Sports Medicine (ACSM) and was VP of American Physical Therapy Association.

How do I suddenly know so much about Helen’s friend Jo? I was fortunate enough to find an informative article, all about Dr. Rathbone, and I reached out to its author, the very helpful Dr. Carol Ewing Garber. She was kind enough to send over an autobiography Dr. Rathbone wrote, and what a life. Worth a checking out.

Herd of water buffalo with enormous horns spreading six ft, white oxen with tall horns drawing carts quite different from those in Ceylon. Indian huts rectangular, with high pointed roofs, palm trees against a red sky. 

Not so many people as I expected. New housing development, very square modernistic a la Germany. Wide main streets. (25 Catholic schools for Indians in Madras) 

Several cars at Bucks, met several groups just leaving. Mr. Buck remembered me — a charming house, paneled walls, book cases built in, every room has French doors leading out — on 2nd floor to a balcony, bedroom's have sleeping porches. The whole house is open and airy, very unusual, most livable. A young English politician was there, an Indian Rec. Director, handsome, and a Sikh, turban, beard, small clothes, small sword, bracelet - the 5 requirements of the Sikh religion. 

Side note: Mr. Buck is also known as Mr. Harry Crowe Buck. He’d founded the YMCA College of Physical Education in Madras over a decade earlier. How fun.

Reading this all again, now more in slow motion…. if Helen wasn’t distracted by a certain engineer on this boat trip, would she be happily bound for one of those YMCAs?

She would, a few decades after this meet up in India, work for the YWCA in Canada, so the answer is yes, but it might have been more immediate. Seems the physical education world back then stayed tight.

Tall, fine looking, large sparkling eyes, graceful hands. 

Finally, all were shooed away, and we five sat at dinner at 8 p.m. Larkspur and zinnias, fresh fruit, soup in lacquer bowls, chops, fresh peas, grilled tomato, frozen prune whip, celery and raw carrots, grapes from U.S. 

Mrs. B. has made a lovely lawn and garden from a rubbish dump. Came back for 10p.m. sailing after an unforgettable evening - found we are staying until morning. 

Shag and I walked on the jetty. Many stars, luminous clouds. We found happiness in one another. Coffee and toast in the mess room at 3 a.m. Very cool evening, no heat all day.

Side notes: 1) prune whip; 2) Mrs. B is composting! Also, Mrs. B = Mrs. Marie Buck, who taught P.E. and published a volume entitled “A Programme of Physical Education for Girls’ Schools in India”, mentioned here; 3) and last but not least, after an unforgettable evening ashore schmoozing with sparkly eyed men, Helen finds happiness with Shag there on the jetty, stars and clouds just so. Topped off with coffee and toast at THREE in the A.M.

Hearts are just brimming, it seems. This might be controversial to say, but, just at this port, I wonder if the brimming isn’t just for Shag, but also for the potential of far flung job opportunities. Meeting up with professional associates around the world, planned in advance, seems strategic.

And maybe Shag senses this? No one can know for sure. But one could suspect some tug of war with choices.

On these pages she seems to speak in code… like in case someone found it. The text is tiny, the names abbreviated, language often coy. But she definitely wasn’t averse to family (aka me, as it were) disseminating it, as she gave it to us with her blessing, but more like she didn’t want people on the boat sneaking it. Who can blame her? It’s a small boat with the same people on it more or less for five months. There’s intrigue happening. Who wouldn’t get a bit paranoid or revengeful?

Thu. Jan. 6: Woke at 6, saw a blazing red sunrise, standby at 6:40 - full away by 7. The harbor pilot was 1st Mate on the Palm, under Capt. Tulloch. Dozens of fishing boats — proas with slender lines, a turned up bow, rowed by shovel-shaped oars. "Day's work" is driving me nuts. 

Traverse tables still a mystery. Took a sight, got the same as bridge, found the next course and distance. P.m. and p.p.m. with S.

Side note: P.m and p.p.m indeed.

After much Googling, I found that ‘Day’s Work’ is guidance about ship navigation and dead reckoning.