Tag / silverwillow

by Mary James

19. Port Elizabeth & East London, South Africa, Dec 7-10, 1937

The After the Trip Letter

Port Elizabeth and East London are bustling, growing cities, thriving as ports for the diamond mines and South Africa's young export business. Durban is cosmopolitan, cultured, as modern as most large American cities. I went with our British Captain in a Reo driven by a Mohammedan to a South African theater owned by a Jew, to see an American movie...had supper in a Dutch restaurant where we were served by turbaned Indian waiters...and rode back to the ship in a rickshaw pulled by a Zulu.

Side note: In 1937, the passenger cruise industry was not yet hopping, so activities at the ports were likely catered to those in the import/export trade, the mining industry, the military… so men, and then all the people who cater to them and their whims. As is often the case, port towns are playgrounds of booze and flooze for some; hard labor for others.

An aside: While Googling about things she mentions in the paragraph above, I discovered the ‘Reo’ car she mentions is a REO SPEED WAGON! Who knew!? To me that is a band. But first, it was a car.

For supper she goes Dutch, literally. Get it?!

I had to look up what Dutch foods are. There are surprisingly few Dutch restaurants here in New York City, despite it once being called New Amsterdam. Of the top 10 Dutch restaurants in NYC on Yelp, only two are actually Dutch, and one of those is an hour into New Jersey. Another has ‘Dutch’ in the name, but serves American food. Three are Belgian. One is a food hall without any Dutch cuisine.

Poor Dutch food!

Have you heard of poffertjes? I have not. And I have been to Amsterdam and I worked for a Dutch company for four years. Poffertjes are the most popular food there, according to Google. If this rarity-of-Dutch-cuisine was true also back in 1937, then it might have been quite exotic to eat in a Dutch restaurant. She does not comment on the food, which is out of character. Is that good or bad?! Were the poffertjes pleasant or poor?

The Day to Day Journal 

Tue. Dec. 7: Washing - and high time too. Sewed sail in afternoon, cut out the jib. Hike on boat deck, then topside for more sewing — only one more day at sea before Durban, and it must be done by then. 

9:45 p.m. — went on the bridge to see the chart of the Cape, watch the plotting of tonight's course. Tennents and crayfish sandwiches.

Side note: I know from my incredibly short stint as a student of sailing (I should have asked Helen if she forced her students to purposely capsize in the middle of winter) that a jib is a canvas-y thing, and I believe it is connected to the boom (which is the part that hit me in the head more than once during said class). (The real reason I gave up on classes is that they were far too early in the morning for a college student. Like 8am or something!)

Helen is taking her self-appointed sail-sewing job very seriously, with set-in-stone deadlines. The chart and plotting are of course also jobs she’s taken on. No tipsy squabbles over cribbage with the retirees for Helen!

(I think Tennents is a beer.)

Port Elizabeth 

half penny
penny ticky = 3 pennies
six pence
12 pence = 1 shilling = 1 bob
2 shillings = florin
2 1/2 shillings = half crown
20 shillings = 1 pound

Wed. Dec. 8: 5:00 a.m. — woke to see land ahead. Engines stopped about 5:45. Fine concrete wharf with many loading cranes. Shag got the bike off early and we rode out to the beach past Humewood to a beautiful cove, rocky, breakers tumbling in. Sat on the beach — idillic.

Side note: Land ahoy again! The vision of Helen and Shag zooming along the coast to a cove, then the sitting and taking it all in… m’waw!

Time for a family related aside… Helen’s grand nephews, the two sons of her sister Mary’s son, Bob, used to run a motorcycle shop in California. And I purchased a motorcycle from them in 1997ish when I was in college (a 1984 Kawasaki 305), and I lived by the sea, and riding along coast, with the misty air, salty breezes, and white caps crashing into jagged rocky walls was life affirming.

And even extra for her, Helen was experiencing it all with her crush. 

Back to the boat at 11:45. 

Changed clothes and walked in to town again. 

Lunch with Ruth and Daisy at Cleghorn's on the market square. The town is spotlessly clean, many new modernistic buildings. The tall square tower above the jetty is "To commemorate the landing here of British settlers in 1820". It was one of the first towns in Africa settled by the British. Ruth and I visited the museum (poor taxidermy of native animals). Beautiful tropical birds in the aviary: a red-orange one — a velvety black with a red spot and long black tail. The snake garden was hemmed in by hibiscus bushes and trumpet vine. Cobras, pythons, puff adders dozing pretty peacefully in the sun.

Side note: Can hibiscus bushes and trumpet vine keep snakes away from humans?? They are skinny, slithery, and sly (but not slippery. An ex I lived with for many years had a snake so I know all this, reluctantly, up close and personal).

East London

Thur. Dec. 9: Shag and I went ashore at 9:30, walked thru the town, out to the beach, life histories. Small town, built up recently, ultra modern architecture.

Side note: life histories = looove 👩‍❤️‍👨

A note folded up in Helen’s files from the trip, dated Dec 9, 1937

The note above was written on Dec 9, 1937 (the day that the life-history-sharing was going on) and I want to think it was from Shag to Helen and that they met up in the sail loft, where all work on sails was halted so they could flirt. (The main part doesn’t look like her handwriting; but the date written at the bottom does, hence it was to her and she added the date for memory purposes.)

In the harbor are 3 square-riggers out of Finland, "Killoran", "Pamir", "Viking". Went aboard the "Viking" (built Sweden, 1907) she is unloading lumber, next goes to Australia for grain, (4 masted barque), crew of 16, young boys learning to sail, 2 Americans, Finns, Swedes, Danes, Capt. has his wife aboard, and an Australian girl is working her way home as mess girl. They are not radio-equipped, keep off the steamship lanes.

Side note: Seems well equipped to be a pirate ship, no? Lurking through the night with no radio… maybe ‘lumber’ and ‘grain’ are code names for types of illicit loot. 

Worked on sail in afternoon, and in evening, my usual hike and a game of ping-pong and Tennents with Chief. 10 — 45 knots tonight, have a 5-knot current. Many planes flying about. Mail plane came in Trimotor Junkers, some RAF formation flying.

Side note: Was she bugging the mailman for plane specs?? I hope she asked to fly it.

Fri. Dec. 10: Topside at 10:30 to finish sewing the corners on the jib. Put grommets in the corners of both sails and she's ready for action. At 3:00 p.m. we were being piloted into Durban harbor, dropped anchor, it began to rain. First word was we'd stand by for the Silvercedar to vacate her berth, but later it was decided to spend the night at anchor. Shag and I were going ashore, but it was too wet. Captain showed Ruth and me Mr. Dreyer's movies of the canal of New Orleans, of me painting the lifeboat. Called on Jim and Shag, saw some of their pictures.

Side note: If she’s only just heading up to finish the jib at 10:30am, she must have been quite confident she’d finish before Durban (her self-imposed deadline).

‘Vacate her berth…’ sounds more dramatic than it is, which is just a ship moving.

And a video! How cool it must have been in 1938 to see film of yourself moving around. I hope Mr. Dreyer’s relatives were bequeathed that film and that they kept it and that it is living somewhere.

by Mary James

18. Cape Town, South Africa, Dec 3-6, 1937

The Letter From After The Trip

Cape Town, crossroads of the world, lies in a perfect setting on the slope of flat-topped Table Mountain. It is a lovely 50-mile drive to the Cape of Good Hope, where we stood on a breezy headland and looked down at two Oceans. Sheer scraggy mountains, clean windswept beaches, cozy suburbs with exquisite rock gardens... the stately home of the Prime Ministers... the breath-taking 2 1/2 acre amphitheater of blue hydrangea in full bloom. One of the engineers had his motorcycle on board ship, and we wrangled it through Dutch Customs Inspection and roared up Table Mountain on it for one of the most exhilarating rides I've ever had (I had frowned on motorcycles for years!)
Helen, discovering the joys of motorcycles, Table Mountain, Cape Town, South Africa, 1937. Photo by “one of the engineers”

The During-the-Trip Journal

The journal picks up a few hours after she sees a cloud-flanked Table Mountain from the ship deck at 4am two posts ago. She goes back to sleep, but then:

Woke again at 7:00 when immigration officers came aboard. Much pro-ing & con-ing about sightseeing. 5 went this am on the 100 mi drive. Shag, James, and I went uptown. Adderley St is the main drag. A wise, interesting St, but clothes are hideously unattractive and very expensive. Displays garish. Most cafes seem to be in galleries above the street.

Side note: The civilian passengers go one way, she goes the other (with engineers tagging along). Like we’d expect any different.

And here are photos of what Adderley St looked like then, in all its wise- and interesting-ness.

5:45 — Shag and I walked up on the hill toward town, vistas down the streets toward Table Mountain, Dutch architecture, severe stucco buildings, red roofs, quaint chimney-pots — some spiraled. Crosses standing out against the mountain which is rocky, sheer, looks a wilderness.

Side note: I imagine it was strange, or at least different, for the two of them to be on land together, strolling around on their sea legs, going places that aren’t on a boat.

Types of people: Cape Coloured — mixture of Hotentot, original Portuguese, other tribes — all shades. Square, stolid Dutch, English, some of the stevedores are the blackest blacks I ever saw. Hindus in turbans — there are more Indians than whites. Boys in fez. The black boy on the mule cart singing Al Jolson to the life with the inflections, the gestures — he couldn't have been more than 11 yrs. old.

Side note: Racial nomenclature was of course quite different in 1938. We can never know Helen completely, but a personal journal can be a pretty good window. She strikes me as an observer and, of course, fact collector (you’ve seen those copious lists). I don’t pick up derision towards people in her (except towards civilian passengers who annoy her). 

In the evening with Shag and James in the Kloof Nek bus to Table Mountain, and climbed up to the cable station. Below us, the lights of the city, behind us the menacing shadow of Lion's Head, above: the luminous sheerness of the table.

Side note: What a picture. Shag and James and Helen on a bus up a mountain, which may have looked like this, zig zagging switch backs in slow motion. Would Shag and James, who’d seen these ports before, be doing touristy things if not for Helen?

Capetown — English style traffic, on the left, with right hand steering wheels. Many American cars, some Eng., little M.G. sportsters snort around, most intriguing.

Side note: Snort around.

Street signs in Dutch and English. Capetown Harbor: fancy maneuvers to get in from the breakwater. Handsome powerful tugs (15 knots at sea) do the trick. Praetoria — Deutsch-Afrika Line — large passenger ship in next berth — flying the swastika.

Side note. The Deutsch-Afrika Line was, as it sounds, Deutsch, hence the diabolical flag it is flying (with its stolen ancient symbol).

Praetoria was the name of the German boat, and good lord look at its history… The Silverwillow didn’t make it through the war, but a German ship gets to become all sorts of other types of ship until it retires in the 1980s? Not quite fair.

Sat. Dec. 4: Driver was to come at 9:30 to take Mrs. Sierist, Mrs. Dreyer and me on the 100 mi. drive. He came — his price having risen to 3£, we argued (the price having been set yesterday) in vain. We refused to go. We hired a car and I had the idea of taking Shag long. Came back to get the movie camera, picked up Shag at the P.O. started at 11:00.

Side note: This is brilliant. Remember, Mrs Sierist is the passenger that Helen, at some point this month, decides she doesn’t like; and Mrs. Dryer is Helen’s roommate. They are both over 60s. So, three women aged 34-70ish are inviting a 23 year old crewman to take a 100 drive. And he says yes. 

Out Victoria Road past the Lion's Head and the Twelve Apostles. Follow the shore line, passing attractive homes, bays where bottle green and sapphire waters mingle. The curves of the shore bring ever new vistas of mountain peaks, a dazzling stretch of pure white sand and ice green rollers curling in from the sea give no intimation of its dangerous quicksands. Inland a few miles thru barren boulder strewn hills to the Cape of Good Hope where two oceans meet. Stop at a little Dutch farm house for hot scones, fresh strawberry jam and large glasses of milk, served in a tea garden overlooking the Indian Ocean. Returning along False Bay thru Simontown, base of SA Naval Squadron. Took moving pictures of Muizenderg one of the most beautiful beaches — white sand, clear water, good surfing, as they say — and two stunning peaks rising behind it.

Side note: A 23 year-old man having scones with strawberry jam and large milk with the ladies is fun to picture.

Then thru the southern suburbs: Diep River, Winberg, Kenilworth to the De Waal Drive, where we stop at Groote Schuur, Rhodes House, in which the prime ministers live. Beautiful gardens — the jacaranda, wisteria just past its best but still lovely. Roses as big as chrysanthemums. The house, high ceilinged, is stately, sombre, panel walls of teak, ponderous furniture of teak, satinwood, stinkwood. Folding window blinds with superb brass fittings. Dutch wardrobes with silver drawer pulls, pieces inlaid with ivory, a clock of Napoleon's, and many handsome grandfather clocks. A gallery looking toward the garden with a row of wooden chests.

Side note: How can anyone spell chrysanthemums correctly in a journal just casually?

Proof that Helen was a super-speller
8 p.m.: Capt. and I went to the plaza. Saw Vogues of 1938. Modernistic theater, just misses being very attractive. News reels, shorts and ads from 8:15 — 9, then an "interval", and finally, one showing of the feature, ending with a picture of George VI, and playing "God Save the King". To Del Monico's, new Venetian restaurant and night club, spiral columns, artificial sky, Hindu waiters. A shilling for a chocolate ice cream soda, which was just a flavored club soda chilled — it never saw any ice cream.

Side note: 45 minutes of news, shorts, and ads! ‘Vogues of 1938’ was a technicolor musical about a fashion designer and his escapades. The theater the “just misses being very attractive” I believe is this averagely attractive theater.

And I think the George VI ‘picture’ was colonial propaganda like this God Save the King. 

Chief mechanist took us aboard the H.M.S. Amphion, a light cruiser — 7500 tons (3 mo. In S.A. — flagship), 72,000 engine horse power, 80,000 boiler H.P., 16 engines (oil fired steam turbines — quadruple screw) speed well over 30 knots. 12 6" guns (we went into the gun turrets), 4 4" anti-aircraft guns, 2 airplanes, detachable pontoons, catapult. He is also Chief diver and we saw diving helmets, shoes with 10 lb. of lead soles.

Side note: Remember what I said about fact finding?

A light cruiser, such as the Amphion, was a war ship, hence the guns. I did not know cruiser meant war ship. Learning!

The diving helmets, my goodness, look like torture devices.

Train back at 5:47. English style coaches, crowded with people going back from the beaches. Shag and I left for town, walked in, took bus to Kloof Nek again, and the lovely walk toward the cable station — evolved some foundations for a friendship. Back to the ship by 12:00 but S. wouldn't go aboard until 1 a. We walked up on the breakwater — waves rumbling in, stars bright.

Side note: Evolved some foundations 😍. This is what Cape Town Harbor looked like from above around that time. 

Mon. Dec. 6: 9:00 a.m. — Shag and I buzzed to town on the motorbike ... and roared off up Table Mountain to the Cable Station. It's as beautiful by day as by night. A layer of cloud like froth lay on it, poured over the side in a stream and vanished. Took some pictures — hope they'll be good. It was a morning to remember forever. I take back all I ever said about motorcycles, there's a tremendous exhilaration about it and our minds and hearts and appreciations were in tune to make it a quite perfect trip.

Side note: Pictures?? Why yes, some of them turned out just fine. Look who it issss…. SHAG! Told you he was cute, and he matures into Hollywood-dapper in a year or two. Just watch.

Roy (Shag) Shadbolt and motorcycle, Table Mountain, South Africa, 1937, photo by Helen Skinner

Is that helmet-head? I hope they wore helmets, but it was early days so probably anything went. Note the pirate laces on his shirt.

I always assumed there were two motorcycles, and they rode them up the mountain side by side. But ‘motorcycle’ is always referred to in the singular. So there must have been just one, and they took turns posing with it. Due to Helen’s dislike of motorcycles, I’m going to assume she didn’t know how to ride one. Maybe it was at Table Mountain where he showed her how. Vroom vroom!

Helen Skinner, 1937, Table Mountain, South Africa, photo by Roy (Shag) Shadbolt
Took the bus back to town after lunch. Took a look around numerous stores. Could hardly tear myself away from stinkwood pieces. Ivory figures from Rhodesia, lion skin bags, zebra cases, elephant hair jewelry.
A gale blew up this p.m. at 6 when the tugs came alongside the wind was just a beam in the entrance to the harbor. Water, wind blown in sheets thru the air, as dry snow is blown off the top of drifts. With port engine full ahead and starboard full astern we just cleared the breakwater. Wind at 65 m.p.h. all evening, cold as blitzen, Lion's Head and the Apostles very grand as we passed by. Not dark until 8:30. Exchanged experiences with Ruth. Bed at 10 with a murder story, but couldn't stay awake.

Side note: “Cold as blitzen” must derive from one of her schools, as it’s a pretty rare Appalachian saying, from what I can tell.

Ruth is either the woman about her age or her roommate. She introduces the passengers by last name only but then calls them by their first names quite a bit in the day to day.

And then they are again afloat! From Cape Town, they steer up the east side of the continent to see what adventures await.

by Mary James

17. Bobbing Towards Cape Town, December, 1937

We see land! But then we also must get to it… in the final miles of our first leg at sea, let’s quickly say hi to the civilian passengers and peruse some of the unbound parts of Helen’s journal like scribbles, clippings, diagrams, addresses, illustrations, instructions, and so very very many lists.

Here are some from this first leg:

Passenger Notes

After three weeks of travel, we cap off Helen’s evolving opinions of the civilian passengers, starting from one day in, and revisited twice more, the last being right around this point in time (whilst bobbing outside Cape Town). Most of them we’ve barely met, but now we can at least kinda picture the people she’s mostly ignoring as she bugs the crew.

Impressions Passengers:


Mrs. McGuire
* Nov 10 Widow from Portland, short white hair, typical joiner, chattery, flabby
* Nov 12 Whistling thru the graveyard, 73, social service for 30yr, diff adjusting to old age, motherly
* Dec Very kind. Keen sense of humor, understanding, amusing conversation

Miss. Mount
* Nov 10 Sweet little old lady, dainty, birdlike, speech a bit breathless as tho people wouldn't listen
* Nov 12 Pioneer stock
* Dec "I have a friend"

Mrs. Sparks
* Nov 10 Just slightly older than I, from LA, very thin, animation seems artificial, high pitched voice, plays ping-pong with Chief, interested in everything that goes on

Mrs. Dreyer
* Nov 10 Widow, grandchild 3yr, Polish, married at 16, little formal schooling, beautiful eyes, pretty curly gray hair, is keen, misses nothing, and the give and take of travel comes easily to her. I am lucky in my roommate. Speaks broken English but it is attractive in her, gives her some of her charm
* Nov 12 Nice taste in clothes and a nose for bargains

Mr. Cargill
* Nov 10 Tall, thin, fragile, silent, but there are living memories behind his eyes, and they still sparkle in quiet amusement. He fought in Boer war, is going back to Africa for the time since. Has been a ranger in Alberta but retired to travel. "Work and I fell out some years ago, and we've never made up"

Mrs. Cargill
* Nov 10 Prototype of a pioneer woman, has known hard work, back breaking toil - is sweet, serene, friendly

Mrs. Sigrist
* Nov 10 Stolid, widow, rises early, rd Shakespeare, walks deck 1hr after each meal, white hair, kind face
* Nov 12 Has traveled much, keen, fine sense of humor, widely read
* Dec Stubborn, dirty, rude, determined to have own way, does not know how to play, is mad if she does not win. Am in doubt about sense of humor. The engineers have dubbed her "Old Corrugated" and it fits her like a glove. Mrs. D. calls her Queen of Sheba all the time. She's a hag out of a Dickens novel. Would rather walk a mile than spend a nickel.

Side note: In Helen’s journal, these folks are sometimes co-stars but mostly extras. She does travel with a few other passengers by train to the Taj Mahal when there was a shore leave. I can’t remember which ones now so we’ll have to wait. It probably wasn’t Mrs. Sigrist though!

Each person has their own page so I suspect she planned to continue this analysis through the trip, but ‘something’ made her priorities shift.

Sadly, she didn’t write the descriptions for the engineers and officers, but she did get all of their autographs:

Is it just me or does the handwriting of the engineers (on the left) seem far more forward facing than the officers? And the officers more upright? Like a handwriting analysis person might glean into that the engineers are young and ambitious and the officers are buttoned up and confident? Or something?

Anyway, to round this part out, I sneak in another snarky quote from Helen about a man she met in NOLA before the boat left: “…a wet blanket, thinks he can tell stories, is interminable, deadly boring.” Quite a first impression!

Boat Notes

The ‘Silverwillow’ is owned by the Silver Line Ltd of London, Eng. and was built in the year 1930 by the firm of Joseph L. Thompson and Sons Ltd. at Sunderland county Durham. She is 450 ft. long and 61 ft wide, and is able to carry nearly 9000T of cargo. She is in every respect a modern twin screw motor vessel and is capable of a speed of 14 1/2 knots.

Side note: “She is in every respect a modern twin screw motor vessel...” – stamped and approved by Inspector Helen!

From Helen Skinner, pieces of letter or notes, typed Air Mail paper, 1937, pre-cut into those two sections by the time I got them

Cargo Notes

At this port we take in our supplies of oil fuel and there is quite a little work to do in this direction. In all we receive about 1500 tons of this oil which will be sufficient to take the ship about 3/4 of the way around the world. During the next day or so we see such cargo as goat skins from Madras, jute bags, pig iron and seeds from Calcutta, rubber, tapioca flour, coffee, kapok, tea and gum demar from Singapore and Java. Paraffin wax from the Borneo Oil fields and coconut products from the Philippines, such as copra meal, desiccated coconut and fiber.

Side note: “…quite a little work to do in this direction…” is both somehow proper but also “do you mind if I bug you for details while you work?”.

Weights, Speeds, Costs, and More Notes

We have so many lists. I’ll space them out some, but here are a few, with all the essential information that I’m sure every passenger gathers.

Costs of navigating a ship around the world, 1937

Found on some scraps of paper, like she was taking notes on the fly:

Twin screw diesel, 14 knots
Net 3.384 tons
Gross 6,373 tons
Dead Wt. 9,766 tons
Freight 8,500 tons 
Draft of ship 26' 5.8", 54.48 tons per in. immersion
Length 451' BP 465' overall 
Beam 61' 4


Total Cap all takes 4970T (inc double bottoms, deep tanks, side tanks, fore and after peaks), deep tanks: 25’6 deep, cap 1126T. Total Cap holds: grain 621,606 cu ft; bale 564,611 cu f

How many USAs can you fit in one Africa

Remember in the last post when Shag invited Helen on a road trip from Cape Town to Cairo? The sketch below, drawn on airmail paper, was folded into her journal. Perhaps it went along with their discussion? We shall never know.

Now, let’s see how land feels after 23 days at sea!

by Mary James

16: ‘At Sea’ to afloat-off-Africa, Nov 22 – Dec 2, 1937

The letter

First, the perfectly concise bit from the after-the-trip letter:

One night I woke suddenly...something was different, and then I realized the engines had stopped. I went on deck and there to starboard twinkled millions of lights around the crescent of Table Bay. Overhead hung the constellation of the southern Cross. South Africa!

Side note: Land ahoy!

Table Mountain, South Africa, after 23 days at sea, December 1937

The journal

She’ll do most of the talking here, but I will say, the last sentence of the first paragraph below is another example of why journals are great. We transition effortlessly from heavenly skies to more backhouse trots (remember, those aren’t a dance).

Mon. Nov. 21: 

[Present location:] 
Lat. 5° 43' S
Long. 26° 04" W
Dist. 314 mi.
Av. Speed 13.24 mph. 

The water tonight a delicious inky black, the curling foam a swift white flash with an occasional phosphorescence. Watched the moon come up. A cloud bank gave the effect of a mass of liquid white heat, poured into fantastic shapes etching a silver pencil line around the cloud making it glow with some inner light. At last its final form emerged in golden radiance to begin its nightly voyage across the heavens. Four passengers laid up with diarrhea this morning, something they ate, no doubt.

Side note: Masterclass level transition, no?

Tues. Nov. 22: - First planking on Capt.'s boat this a.m. Using the sextant for the second time, I took the Altitude and worked the latitude within 2 min. of the official one on the bridge. Capt. seemed pleased.
Helen Skinner, M.S. Silverwillow, somewhere on Atlantic Ocean (this might be the Planking she mentions? Her planking must be different from the planking that is core strengthening and/or a dumb meme from 2010ish)
Into my monkey suit after lunch and did some more painting on the life boat. Read "Silas Crockett". Morse at 7:30, Jim sent while Roy took it down, and after numerous unsuccessful struggles, I managed eight words a minute. Marked a course on the chart, learning to apply deviation and variation. Had my first trick at the wheel for five minutes. Slept in the hammock.

Wed. Nov. 23: Lost my favorite scarf overboard in the interests of navigation — while I had the sextant in my hand, and nothing could be done about it. Found the Lat. within 1 min. of the official one, again. Capt. bragged on me at lunch. Spent the p.m. painting gear from #1 life boat. Lesson in Morse with two assistants. Chatted with the Engineers on my way "home" tonight. Finished "Silas Crockett". Turned in early. Saw the inside of the funnel today.

Side note: Sextants are still carried on ships and crew should know how to use them. Actual vintage ones are expensive, but I found a replica made to look old that is neat to look at, fun to play with, good for storytelling, and a nice knick knack. But also incredibly complicated and with no autofocus. As for finding altitude and latitude and the other things with that little device, here’s a 25 minute video of numbers and maths and calculations and complexities that make my eyes glaze.

Here is my replica sextant:

It is upside down in one of the photos, but 100% right side up in the other

Thru. Nov. 24 My first bloater for breakfast today, very good. Figured compass courses, correcting for leeway, variation, deviation. Painted about 1/3 of lifeboat #1. Thanksgiving -- saloon decorated with British, U.S., and Union of South Africa flags. Each setting had a place card with a jingle, done by Daisy Mount. Topside afterward. Capt. let me read the letters he has written to the school he has adopted. A number of British Captains under the "Adoption Society" have schools to which they write, about once a month, telling of activities on board ship and places visited. What a stimulus to the study of geography. Capt. let me check a code radiogram he is sending. First time I've seen an official code book. Drew names for our share in the Christmas party.

Side note: A bloater is not gas, as I first assumed (she is very open about bodily things!). It is a smoked herring.

Also, the book she finished above, Silas Crockett, is about generations of maritime families and the women who ran them.

This must be the place setting at Helen’s Thanksgiving seat: 

Helen’s place setting at Thanksgiving, 1937, and it’s perfectly personalized — nice that aviation and navigation rhyme.

It’s a wee blurry, so:

Skinner, Miss Helen
She has studied aviation
And its twin art, navigation
The code de Morse
Is in her course
So she works like all tarnation
M.V. Silvervillow
Thanksgiving Day. 1937.

Fri. Nov. 25: Chipping paint on the deck below us — sounds like a boiler factory. Worked problems in the Meridian Altitude. Apprentices have half day off to study, so I sewed sail for the new boat. Another Morse lesson until rain drove us inside — 185 letters, 4 mistakes. Cold, we had on coats, wrapped in blankets. Passed 100 mi. west of St. Helena today. Read "Thirteen Women" by Tiffany Thayer. Myrna Loy played in the movie, the book is trash with some very clever lines.

Side note: ‘Trash with some clever lines” is actually quite kind from her.

Sat. Nov. 26: Chief took me on a tour of the engine room at 9:00, have been trying for weeks to get to it, seems to me diesel is far superior to steam. Started by compressed air — enormous engines at 115 rpm drive us thru the water. Saw the refrigerating plant, the fresh water distiller. Wish I could remember it all. Sewed sail instead of study, but went up on Monkey Island at noon to see the sun at 87° Altitude, probably the highest I'll ever see it. Could see it in the sextant all around the horizon (my Latitude was way off). Jim and I peered at the Weems Air Navigation book. More Morse considerably faster, but it still gets away from me. Phosphorescence on the water.
Helen and the sextant, figuring latitudes, 1937
Sun. Nov. 27: At noon Capt. said, "come on, Navigator" — to Monkey Island, and saw the sun to the north instead of the south, and even higher (88° 49' observed Altitude) than yesterday. Found the Lat. with no help whatever — no formula. Finished the second seam on the sail. Hiked on boat deck after dinner with J., T., S., it was still light at 7:30 p.m. Up at 3:00 a.m. to see the Southern Cross, cold today, wore a suede jacket, came out in a wool dress for dinner. More up and down movement than any time thus far. 

Mon. Nov. 29: Every page in the navigation book uses logarithms, and I never met them in my progress thru math. Spent the morning learning to do them. Found it not so difficult as I expected. Officers came out in blues today. Not warm enough to be on deck except in the lee of the boat deck. Took my letter writing around this p.m. found Shag working on the motorcycle.

Side note: A++ in classes. That old time latitude stuff ain’t for amateurs. And how convenient that when innocently on her way to pen her long overdue correspondence, she just happens upon Shag, hunched over his motorcycle, in coveralls, likely clutching a greasy wrench. And since she’s there she might as well be polite and ask what makes the bike go vroom. From that likely scenario we get very detailed and specific drawings like the one below (spark plugs indeed). I posted this one preemptively in the last blog, but here is where it is supposed to be:

Distributor illustration, presumably by Shad/g, M.S. Silverwillow, 1937
Tue. Nov. 30: Collected a few autographs this a.m. Continued my pursuit of logarithms. Production has sped up, I can sew canvas twice as fast as when I started. Hiked miles with J and S, and more miles on our own deck. Had my first attack of indigo. Called on Ruth, whose innards are miserable. Cold tonight in my green checked jacket.

Side note: I think indigo means indigestion, but if someone knows more, let me know. Ruth is a civilian passenger, who I’ll be introducing in the next post along with the others. So far it’s been all engineers and Captains. You’d almost forget there were seven civilians elsewhere on the boat.

The passenger and crew autographs she mentions collecting, M.S. Silverwillow, 1937
Wed. Dec. 1: First rough day. Alternate clouds and sun pushing into blue water, piling it into mountainous ridges where the wind whips off the top and flings it into shining rainbows of spray before plunging it in swirling foam aft. The nose plows under a wave, tosses up a white spray to crash over the fo'castle head and rip along the deck on a flying sheet of water. Sin [sine], cos [cosine], tan [tangent], coses [cosecant?], cot [cotangent] took up the morning. Shag and I walked in a gale, and then stood in the lee of a boat watching the elemental forces heaving, piling, crashing, surging away. It was glorious. It's a little moment of ocean I'll always remember. 

Thru. Dec. 2.: Problems in parallel sailing, and using traverse tables. Lone hobnob with Morton, had a tour of the wireless room and couldn't understand the ship's call letters when they came in, --., [GQVY]. The sea is much more calm, a few bumps and some lovely spray.

Side note: Who needs moving pictures when you can paint a scene like that? And then pepper it with trigonometry? And that walk in the gale, my goodness. You can feel the sparks. 

Fri. Dec. 3: 3:00 a.m. — woke with a start when the engines stopped. Looked thru the port to see hundreds of lights sparkling dead ahead. Land, after 3 weeks of ocean, went on deck and saw the jeweled crescent of the bay, under the Southern Cross.

Side note: End scene! Doesn’t that last bit sound familiar? She wrote something similar in the letter summarizing the trip and it’s up at the top of this post.

And in addition to being an engineer, she shoulda been a writer. But now she kinda is being one, here in the blog. And we have plenty more where that came from so stay tuned!

by Mary James

15. Lat. 16″ 26′ N; Long. 69° 31″ W; Dist. 326 mi.; Av. Speed 13.78 mph, ie At Sea, Nov. 14-21, 1937

Doesn’t 13.78 mph sound SLOW?? Let’s see… if one went forward 24-hours a day at 13.78 mph, that is going 330ish miles a day. And it was 23 days from NOLA to Cape Town. That comes to 7,590 miles, which is pretty much the exact milage between the two ports! Who knew??

So chug chug, little freight boat, you’re just on time (if my math is right).

To refresh, we’re about four days into a five-month ’round-the-world trip. We are currently snaking through the Caribbean Isles, soon to be spit into the Atlantic, where we will then see no land for 20 days. But we will see a lot of sea.

The journal:

While Helen is busy in her Navigation 101 class, she takes detailed notes – lists, definitions, illustrations, scribbles, and diagrams (some not in her handwriting!). I will scatter those around.

Like now:

Intel she is gleaning from the ‘prentices, such as Plimsoll Marks (ie ship load lines)
7:30 p.m. — to Engr. Deck for first lesson in telegraphy. All 'prentices there, wireless op., Shad. 

Shad, Foster and I talked until 10. Shad is interesting — he & Foster want to take a diesel auto trip from Capetown to Cairo. For conversation they asked me to go. Wonderful pipe dream. 

Capt. begins to call me Helen.

Side note: The telegraphy lesson is likely Morse Code. This was definitely on her ‘prentice wish list.

And most importantly… drum rollll… IT’S SHAD. Shad = Roy (Shadbolt), sometimes also referred to as Shag. She seems intrigued by him, no?

I thought at first ‘Foster’ was a job title on the ship. Like a deckhand or something. The Captain hollers, “You there, Foster, fetch me my telescope post haste!!”, or something. But no, Foster is a person.

Roy and Foster invite Helen on a 10,000 kilometer roadtrip, from South Africa to Egypt, in a diesel car (a brand new type of car in 1937 that takes a different FUEL than other cars, so how do they get the gas? So many questions). Ten thousand kilometers is almost three times as long as the United States. And in 1937, it would probably take at least a month, if not longer. And where would they sleep. Hm… Flirting alert!

The Captain was likely calling her Miss. Skinner before. How informal for a ship Captain, who are typically so upright and salute-y. Hours of radio soaps and variety shows with someone nice, smart, and cute will do that!

Capt. reads my character in handwriting "Tact, diplomacy, modest, not forceful, religious tendency, non-informative, hopeful, ambitious, gentle, cautious, head rules emotions."

Side note: Most of those things, yes, but religious tendency, not so much. And what is non-informative? Like coy? Whatever it means, flirting alert!

Sun. Nov. 14: Today I am a passenger — no lessons. Large dinner — fried oysters, chicken, asparagus, potatoes browned, celery, olives, tomato, orange ice & Nabisco, walnuts. Listened to Jack Benny on Capt.'s radio. Foster on the bridge from 12 - 2.

Side note: I leave in some of the food lists because her relaying mundane meals in the midst of daily wonder and so many once in a lifetime experiences is fun. One’s gotta eat.

Jack Benny, at the time, was slinging witty banter and Jello to all corners of the world. And which 12-2 is she with Foster?? The day time or nighttime one. I think the latter since she mentions him last. Hm.

Mon. Nov. 15: 

10 — 11:30 Light begins to dawn on a few matters. Talked to Shad. Worked on my hammock, annoying the passengers with my hammering. Sun bath on the monkey deck. 

7:30 — 9 with Shad, hearing in outline, a sketch of his life.  

10:30 — 12:30 — with Jimmie. They are interesting youngsters. We can all learn a lot from each other. A most gloriously beautiful moonlight night, clear as crystal. Clocks have been advanced 20 min. each day. The European members of the crew are quite a lot, I gather. Know their jobs, but nothing else. Wine, women, smut fill their days and nights. A sensitive lad like Shad, with beauty in his heart and a keen inquiring mind is like a man in a diving helmet at the bottom of the sea, with an octopus just about to close a tentacle on his slender air line. Jamie with a brain, but so young and untouched by the world. What will this apprenticeship leave them? Have been asked to teach Jimmie to dance.

Side note: There is a lot to unpack there. It’s all one day, which starts off a complicated… ‘Light begins to dawn on a few matters’… that must be about Shad and has an undertone of trouble, no? They have had a talk.

Perhaps because of this talk, she hammers forcefully on things and bothers fellow passengers.

Then she rests.

And Shad’s life, from what I know at that point involved art, culture, travel, engineering, a doting family. So even at 23, he had a lot of stories. Did I mention before he was 23? And that she was 34?

A sensitive lad like Shad, with beauty in his heart and a keen inquiring mind is like a man in a diving helmet at the bottom of the sea, with an octopus just about to close a tentacle on his slender air line.

And if she mentioned Europeans before, I didn’t notice it. These particular Europeans I picture a pale, freckled, red-faced hooligans.

But Shad. My goodness indeed. He’s an artsy man. An intellectual man. A funny man. A manly man. And super cute and single. What?! 

Nov. 16: Capt. received a radiogram this am. saying a son was born on Nov. 12, his second. Chief has a child a year old he hasn't seen. 1st Mate has one 2 1/2  he hasn't seen.

Side note: Most of the crew is married it seems. Despite all these men flirting with Helen, these aren’t necessarily the type of men who hoot at ladies from the rafters. These are not party boats, everyone is working, and they probably were just not used to a passenger like Helen on board. So she got a lot of attention. And she loved to flirt. No one is saying anything happened, but it’s easy to read into things. Throughout though, she speaks fondly of almost everyone (except a few civilian passengers, who just seemed annoying) so I hope all happenings were above board, so to speak.

Problem #1: Roy precipitated tonight. Vessel burns 37 long tons (2240 lb.) of oil daily. Leak in ammonia pipe at 4:00 a.m., Roy dashed up for the gas masks.

Side note: Roy precipitated? Like he did something bad? She is with Roy at 4am to see this rushing??

Tue. Nov. 16: Barbados on the port bow early this a.m. Finished setting the grommets in the hammock. Found today's navigation problems came very much more easily. Began Emil Ludwig's "The Nile", the description of the source is striking, vivid. Roy and I stood on the after deck in the moonlight. Up at 3:30 to see the silver lining of the clouds where the moon illuminates them from behind. 

Wed. Nov. 17: Jim showed me how to crown and splice a rope — for the hammock. At this rate it will be done by Christmas. Jim gave me a lesson in Morse until he went on the bridge at 8. Talked to Shad until 9. Talked to Jim 11 — 12:30. Full moon, but storm clouds all around the horizon. 

Thru. Nov. 18: Found a Latitude. Capt. says I may shoot the sun tomorrow. Finished splicing the rope for the hammock. Life boats are going to be painted, began taking out the rig today. 7:15 - 9 - with Shad. Coffee at 4 a.m. with Jim.

Side note: Sometimes I’ll just shut up and let her talk. But here I must interject. I wasn’t going to complicate things with too many people, but now this ‘Jim’ keeps being mentioned and I don’t remember him from the last time I read through this. What I know of him thus far: he is one of the ‘youngsters’ and probably a ‘prentice. She was asked to teach him to dance. She seems to be with him when she’s not with the Captain or Roy or Foster. So let’s watch out for him going forward.

Fri. Nov. 19: Shad and I took pictures of the boat this morning, starting aft. Worked some problems of Lat. And then at noon, I had my first look thru a sextant, and figured the Latitude of the boat. Very exciting for me. Lesson in Morse, tried sending. Read some western Canada plays Shad has produced and acted in. Jim gave me a picture of the ship, which will help in explaining to the family.

Sat. Nov. 20: Big card game on tonight, ending in hot words. Came down at 10 to find everybody frothing at the mouth over Mrs. S_____, who is a poor loser. I hiked them round and round the deck until they cooled off. 

Side note: maybe this is why she doesn’t spend too much time with the civilian passengers.

Helen Skinner, with Sextant, upon the M.S. Silverwillow, finding Latitude, 1937
Still not so good at arithmetic but I found another Latitude today, taking the corrections from the nautical almanac. Foster supervised the completion of the hammock. Put on the battens and tied up the lanyards. Capt. came down and hung it for me in the aft-starboard corner of the deck. It's wonderfully comfortable, and I'm proud of it. Slept out about 4 hours tonight. 

Called topside after dinner. Capt. pasted stamps in his album. He has them from most of the strange ports of the world.

Side note: I love that she’s proud of her hammock. She should be, but it’s nice to recognize the feeling. And how awesome must it have been being cradled up in the air in a sling you made, outside on the deck, alone, moon out, a big black vastness in the distance punctuated by the stars of that sparkly chaotic roundabout in the sky, the Milky Way? I would say VERY awesome. 

Sun. Nov. 21: Almost the coolest a.m. we've had, and nearest the equator. Watched the `prentices do their weekly house-cleaning, very efficient. At noon Jim snatched one arm and leg, Thompson the other. Threats of the tar and feathers, but took it all out in hot air and so, I crossed the equator.  Came up from lunch to find Capt. in my hammock. Another visit to the boat deck, started "Silas Crockett". 4 passengers, and several from over yonder, doing the backhouse trot.

Side note: Playful equatorial-themed flirting is always fun. The pull-a-person-apart game, so as to exist in both hemispheres at the same time. Captain in hammock = flirting alert! I thought that ‘doing the backhouse trot’ was a dance, but it is not. It means what might happen if one ate bad food. 

Mon. Nov. 21: Slept out in my hammock all night delightful. Reading about setting a course on a chart. Shad furnished a pair of coveralls, Capt. came and took movies of me climbing board and beginning to paint the inside of #4 life boat. I had a fine time wagging the paint brush, got my arms and nose some what burned in the equatorial sun.
Helen, in her new coveralls, and presumably Shad, left, working on the deck of the M.S. Silverwillow, 1937 (other dude must be Foster or Jim or the other one) 
Lesson in Morse, and listened in astonishment to Shad, who quoted poetry, play, sang, ran from the sublime to the idiotic and back without a change of pace. He's really gifted, if he wanted to do anything with it.

Side note: Oh, to have those movies. The personal movie camera had just come out that year. Someone was a gadget head!

And also, more Shad intrigue. And he sounds intriguing.

So much going on and we’re still at sea, but we’re another eight days in. There’s still another 10 or so days to go til Cape Town.

What else was Helen doing aside from the above, you ask? Learning about how engines work. The below is NOT her handwriting. I’m gonna guess it is Shad.

Soon, Helen will know all this stuff like the back of her hand.

by Mary James

14. ON A BOAT! NOLA to ‘at Sea’, Nov 9-13, 1937

By now I thought we’d already be to South Africa, if not further. But here we have just shoved away from The Big Easy’s decadent docks. There are just so many good bits to share.

From a distance, we are now steaming steadily ahead, eastward ho, on the three-week salt-water-y trek to Cape Town, South Africa. Shall we peek in?

The Letter

(As a refresher, we look at the passage from the nice and concise after-the-trip letter and then the corresponding bits from the day to day journal.)

The passengers were left to themselves to get on as best they could. I chose to take part in the daily routine of the ship. During the 23 short days on the Atlantic I studied navigation with the Captain every morning, painted lifeboats with the apprentices, peered into the intricacies of the engine room, learned to send morse signals, sewed canvas with the quartermaster, made myself a sailors hammock and slept on deck under the southern stars. 

End Scene!

Kinda like a movie trailer, right? Just giving the highlights. But then the lights go down, and we watch it all unfold, one morse signal at a time.

The Journal

Lights, camera, action! 

[Present location:] 

Lat. 26" 57' N 
Long. 87° 52" N 

Wed. Nov. 10:  

8:30 — Breakfast — prunes.  

Wander over to watch the apprentices work and get a job setting grommets in a piece of canvas that's to enclose the Captain's deck.

Side note: She did wait until after prunes to find the engineers and land a job, but this was her first morning at sea, so she certainly didn’t waste time.

The apprentices are the ‘clean, intelligent looking youths from Canada’ from the last post, mind you. We will get to know (at least one of) them plenty. 

After lunch the Captain tells me he has discussed with the Mate my studying navigation — decided they'd experiment and see if an inexperienced person of normal intelligence can really learn how to steer a course in five months.

Side note: Normal intelligence. Pfft. Her two degrees from Columbia U would beg to differ! But maybe five months is a short amount to learn to navigate a freight boat? So if she could do it she was not just of normal intelligence, but extra?

Sadly, this was probably the only way she could learn ship navigation. Women weren’t navigating boats in 1937 (and barely even today). I looked this up, and a few women were ‘allowed’ to navigate when they got stuck at sea because the Captain became incapacitated or dead. And a few women disguised themselves as men and got to navigate… until they got found out. You may read more about it here.

But Helen got to learn while dressed as she pleased and while all the men on board were at full capacity. Good on you, men of the Silverwillow!

She was clearly meant to maneuver ships, as you can see:

M.S. Silverwillow, 1937, with its Captain and with Helen Skinner, learning to navigate with a sextant (this must be the Captain she went dancing with in NOLA??). 
Listened to "One Man's Family" and the Chesterfield Program on the Capt.'s radio.

Side note: I love when she mentions movies, politics, radio. It puts a timestamp (era-stamp?) on things. One Man’s Family was a radio soap opera, that, like the soaps still do, ran forever (silly me didn’t know they had soap operas before TV!).

The ‘Chesterfield Program’ means ‘Chesterfield Time‘ radio variety show (named after their sponsor, Chesterfield cigarettes). And I’m listening now to Chesterfield Time, and I suggest you do too, as it is leg shaking, fast talking fun. Era-stamps are important.

And then note that she is listening to these programs ON THE CAPTAIN’S RADIO — I hadn’t caught that before. Nice mood music, too. Hm. 

Weather: wind force 4. 

Sun in a.m. It may just be the day, but there is almost no sensation of motion of the ship. The engines throb through your conscience, but unless you look at the water you can't be sure you're moving. 

Inspection of after deck with Capt., the ship's potatoes are kept in a huge bin. News: Ramsay McDonald is dead. Brazil set up a dictatorship on the Nazi pattern.

Side note: a lovely thing about random journal entries is how they jump from topic to topic so effortlessly. From throbbing engines, to potato storage, to Nazis.

You can almost hear the staticky Walter Cronkite crackly type voice, more static, and then ***ATTENTION: We interrupt this programming with breaking news out of Her Majesty’s England. We have just learned that the former Prime Minister, Ramsay McDonald, has died. I repeat…***

Maybe they wouldn’t break in for Ramsay? But you can still hear the voice, can’t you?

And on November 10, 1937, Brazil’s Getúlio Vargas did indeed make for himself a new constitution and cancelled elections. Not good.

The bath procedure: Bucket of hot water, placed in rack in tub, sponge off or dump it in the tub. For a rinse fill the tub with sea water.

Side note: like I mentioned, a no frills trip. 

Present location: 

Lat. 22" 22' N
Long. 85° 04" W

Thru. Nov. 10

10 a.m. at the Captain's desk — I am set to work learning definitions for my first lesson in navigation. Study until 11:30.

Side note: For what she’s gonna be learning, this eighth grade level short on nautical navigation was way too much for my brain.

At dinner lettuce cooked with a fried onion and tomato sauce, artichokes. 

Pacing the Capt.'s deck after dinner. Learned how the Dutch are displacing the English in South Africa, since all in govt jobs must be bilingual — Africans and English, and the English won't bother.

Capt. says I may follow the 'prentices — do what jobs I want, and he'll have them practice Morse code sending with me. 

Side note: How about the Dutch and English just leave it all well enough alone??

And now the promising young men from Canada have been ordered to teach her whatever she wants, whenever she wants. And she wants to know everything.

Nov. 11 Foster taught me 4 knots: bowline on a bite, the knot used for handcuffs, hangman's noose, crown. Capt.'s wife expecting a second child momentarily.

Side note: The ‘prentices get right to work helping her do what she wants. And again, a married captain! Hm.

Notes from journal on ‘Capacity of Tanks’ and ‘Anchors’, perhaps taught to her by ‘prentices
Present location: 

Lat. 20" 23' N
Long. 30° 11" W
Dist. 330 mi.
Av. Speed 13.95 mph 

Fri. Nov. 12: I begin my pursuit of navigation this a.m., The Capt. explains the ecliptic and in a flash it is mine permanently.

After lunch — on the Engineers deck, had a try at Foster's hammock. It was a delightful sensation, mentioned it to the Capt. and he said, "why don't you make one?'. Within 5 min. the canvas was cut and ready. Service!

7:30 p.m. — "Not to be opened until Fri. Nov. 12" — so the box of candy Kay and Ann gave me made its debut in the Capt.'s room tonight.

Side note: The ecliptic is a navigational thing I just read about but don’t understand (not ‘in a flash mine’), so see the link from the beginning of this sentence.

And also, enter… the hammock! She mentioned it in the letter snippet above and here it is, happening, on day four.

Lastly, she is back in the Captain’s room, eating candy. Hm.

Helen (right) hanging out on the M.S. Silverwillow. (Yes, the woman on the left seems to be missing an arm, but I think that is a photo illusion, as Helen describes all the passengers, and with her level of detail, that would have come up).
Present location: 

Lat. 18" 21' N 
Long. 74° 48" W
Dist. 330 mi.
Av. Speed 13.96 mph 

Sat. Nov. 13: Woke at 4:00 a.m. Up and had a look at the stars, they seem so much closer in these southern skies. Up again to see the sunrise and watch the boat come to life about 6 a.m. 

In a haze off to starboard lies the mountain that looked like a cloud bank, but is Jamaica. Started figuring GMT, and am painfully dumb at it. Navassa Is. to starboard this a.m. and shortly after the beautiful slopes of Haiti loom up to port. Low banks of cumulus clouds give the effect of a volcano from the highest peak. Foster undertakes to give me some help in navigation, until tea time working problems. 

4:15 — Worked on my hammock with one eye on the clouds. The last view of Haiti was a soft gray mist with purple shadows on the land as a peak shone thru here and there. This morning the water was sapphire, and the waves so smooth it seemed you could slide on the surface. At sunset: puffs of pink cloud all around the horizon, and the water almost motionless, a turquoise color with iridescent reflections.

End scene!

“This morning the water was sapphire, and the waves so smooth it seemed you could slide on the surface.” – Helen Skinner

And side note: if stars look close in a good way, I suspect her heart is full (she has her trifecta of machines, travel, and men). If the stars were close in a bad way, they’d feel claustrophobic, and that is gleaned nowhere in her writing.

I’m also sure she’s not dumb at GMT (Greenwich Mean Time). They are moving around the world, slowly, so the time is constantly changing. How, without Google, would anyone know the time!?

I am ending this one here, as I believe Haiti is the last bit of land she sees for about 20 days, and that seems a good place for an intermission.

Next up: latitudes, handwriting analysis, a tiny bit more land (oops), the backhouse trot, and engineer intrigue (not just the how of it, but some of the ‘who is this smart hot cute engineer’ of it?’). Stay tuned!!

by Mary James

13. Come Sail Away, Come Sail Away With Meeeeeee! 🎵

Setting Sail

In The Helen Files, I mentioned that my uncle Bob had transcribed Helen’s travel journal from her 1937 trip around the world, with its eensie handwriting, and that it came out to 70 typed pages. When a printed version made its way to me, a smart-me would have scanned it and used a software to make it into editable typed text. But stupid-me got excited, underlined a bunch of it, circled some, and put stars and exclamation points all over.

When I went to scan it, the transcribing software got confused by my scribbling and made half of the text like *)H%%soiwue)(. But the other half was ok, and, through re-re-transcribing it, I got to live the tale again, and I noticed all sorts of new detail.

There are two main artifacts. The first is the journal, with all the daily detail and juicy bits, peppered with buried hints. That along with A LOT of particulars. And the other is a three page letter, summarizing it all beautifully. I shall section them in a juxtaposed way, in chronological order.

The Letter – Post-Trip 1938

To preface, when Helen was 34, she did a 360 degree world-loop, solo, on a freight boat, with nary a few civilian passengers (but at least one really nice crewman).

Here it is:

M.S. Silverwillow. Helen spent five months aboard, from 1937-38, going worldwide, dodging real and figurative fireworks

The letter is likely a carbon copy, and the same letter sent to multiple people. And it was written from Arlington, New Jersey, where her parents lived. By October 1938, her parents definitely would have known all that is in the letter, as she returned several months’ prior. As would her sister. So maybe she wrote this to friends and less immediate family.

See:

Post trip letter from Helen, likely a carbon copy sent to multiple people, Part I, 1938

Here she starts:

October 29, 1938 

The Motorvessel Silverwillow is heading north from Panama on her way to New Orleans again. She has been around the world since I left her last March at San Francisco, and it's nearly a year since I sailed for Cape Town and points east. It is high time I attended to some sadly neglected correspondence.

Side note: ‘Motorvessel’ must be the M.S. in the boat’s name: The M.S. Silverwillow. Google says this could mean Motor Ship and that is interchangeable with Motor Vessel. As for how she knows where the boat is located a year later after her trip, it is likely because she maintained relations with a, now former, crewman.

It was Nov. 9 when, loaded with lumber, mining machinery, asphalt, shingles, apples, canned salmon, Ford trucks (to mention a few items of cargo) and eight passengers, the freighter Silverwillow nosed out into the Mississippi and set her course for South Africa. 

Side note: November 9, 1937, to clarify. Right around when a certain World War was brewing.

My fellow travellers were a heterogeneous assortment: a retired rancher and his wife from Canada, who left us in Africa (he had fought in the Boer War, and was going back to see what it was all about)... a fluttery 70-year old spinster from Frisco... a neurotic woman of about my age who was dangling on the brink of divorce...three widows, two of them past 70 years of age, and the third, my roommate, was a dear, a good traveller, easy to live with. 

Side note: Heterogeneous for middle income civilian travelers from America with the means to travel for five months in 1937, yes. But this wasn’t a highball-up, pinky-out kind of trip. Though the Booze Cruise freight boat experience did seem quite opulent, this one was no frills. No costume parties or Gin Rickeys whilst perched on railings. The eight civilian passengers had buckets for showers, slop with the crew, and glorified cubby holes for rooms. We will learn all this…

It chipped years from my age to be the youngest in the crowd, and guess I was the 'enfant terrible’ of the voyage. Anyway I'm sure I had the best time and saw the most, even if I skipped a museum now and then. 

Side note: She absolutely had the best time.

End first scene!

The Journal – The Realtime Timeline

And over to the journal now, where we get to dive in and see what was really going on. She starts by meeting the boat. 

Present Location:  

Lat. 26" 57' N 
Long. 87° 52" N  

Mon, Nov 8 

At last — the Silverwillow. 

Captain said, "I'm glad to see some young blood getting on — it looks like an old ladies' home." A cheerful thrust for an introduction — went on board.

Side note: Cheeky captain! We learned from her last travel log that she quite enjoys a good flirt.

Wandering around the boat, C___ encounters the Captain, we all go up on his deck where he makes us at home, offers smokes and beverages. We talk for a couple of hours. He takes us back to town in his cab. Capt. asks if I want to go back to the boat or for a bit of a dance — to the Blue Room. He listens to my navigation aspirations, sounds hopeful about the possibilities. Back to the ship at 1:30 — roommate still up. The Capt. is a fine person — if only the trip may be as pleasant as the send off.

Side note: She drops off her things, and finds herself promptly on the Captain’s deck, smoking, drinking, and schmoozing, and I’m certain this is exactly where she wanted to be, as it’s the Captain who needs to make her navigation aspirations real. The place where she goes to boogie with the Captain (until 1:30am!) was NOLA’s swanky new club, The Blue Room, which would see the likes of Frank and Louis and Ella in its day.

Tue. Nov 9: 

5:30 a.m. wake when the loaders start shouting and the winches begin to creek putting aboard objects of 10,000 lb. At 8:00 and 8:30 jangling of a bell: warning and breakfast. 

Boiled potatoes are depressing in the morning even if someone else is eating them. Good toast and eggs. Stewards and cooks Chinese — food British. 

9:00 a.m. — I take a taxi to town, buy stationery, gum, some golf clubs at a bargain. 

Side note: She goes to town to get necessities for her trip at sea… like golf clubs. Hm. Also, she only had four hours of sleep due to all the dancing. And while I’m a big fan of the potato and don’t like it disparaged, this is golden:

“Boiled potatoes are depressing in the morning even if someone else is eating them.” – Helen Skinner

To the boat. Mr. Sparks introduces the apprentices and things look up. There are four, three of them and a Junior Engineer are clean, intelligent looking youths from Canada. 

Side note: This is key, as one of these youths is a 23 year old Mr. Royal E. Shadbolt of Victoria, British Columbia, Canada. And when you see what he looks like, you’ll understand why she said ‘things are looking up’. But you’ll have to wait until South Africa for that. Also, it’s too cute that she is already meddling again with the crew rather than lounging with the passengers. 

At 5:45 we cast off, the wharf recedes, we are turning in a wide arc and heading down the river. 

It has actually happened — I am starting around the world.

I feel excited and nervous for her, even though I know what all transpired.

That is the end of the pre-boat preparations! We are sailing!!

by Mary James

5. 1920-1938 – The Where, What, and (some of) Who

One need not be a detective when a piece of notebook paper titled WHERE I WAS features addresses, dates, schools, and jobs, all with arrows and tiny bits of context written into the margins and in between lines. The sheet details her whereabouts from 1920-1938 (ages 17-35). Here it is pre-transcription:

Helen’s handwritten timeline from 1920-1938 of education, jobs, summer camps, etc.

Here are the main bits (with some commentary):

Education

  • 1920-1924 T.C. B.S. Degree, Teaching Diploma, Whittier Hall
  • 1931 T.C. Spring Session, Winter Session, 1931-1932, M.A. Degree 

Separately, I found two poorly photocopied degrees from Columbia University – a bachelor’s and a master’s, folded up together in thirds, like a take out menu. Through wizardly sleuthing on the webs I discovered that T.C. meant Teachers College, and that it was housed in Whittier Hall, and that both were part of Columbia University. I found it a bit odd she didn’t mention it (or spell out Teachers College), especially if she was detailing important aspects of her life with extreme detail.

Bachelor of Science Degree, Columbia University, 1924
Master of Arts Degree, Columbia University, 1932

As far as I can tell, both degrees are in the same program, so I’m not sure why one is in Science and one in Arts, but perhaps the curriculum changed in the intervening years.

Teaching

  • 1924-25 – University of Cincinnati 
  • 1926-29 – University of Kentucky, Lexington KY 
  • 1927 – University of Minnesota (summer session)
  • 1932 – Smith College
  • 1932-37 – Gulf Park College for Women, Mississippi
  • 1934 – Bennington College
  • 1936 – Purdue 

Side note: She was Director of Physical Education at these schools.

Labeled ‘U of Kentucky, 2nd Car’, she taught there from 1926-1929. Look at the cool car!

Camps

  • 1921 – Camp Auerwey [sp?] – Delaware Water Gap, swim, baseball, basketball
  • 1922 – Pine Tree Camp, Pocono Pines, PA, Dickie Harper (Peter)
  • 1923 – Spring and Fall Camp Saueo, Pittsfield, MA (at Camp Louvre) [?]
  • 1923 – Camp Owaissa, Orleans MA, Cape Cod, “Mrs. Norman White’s camp for counselors”, head swim
  • 1923 – Camp Fairway, Lake Garfield, Monterey, MA
  • 1926 – Camp Kawajiwin, Minn, Head swim, canoe, Milla Kara Jacobson
  • 1927 – Bac BC Ranch, Jackson Hole, WY
  • 1931 – Camp Brooklyn, Narrowsburg, NY
  • 1931 – Camp Kalmic (Girl Scouts), Blairstown, NJ
  • 1933-1937 – Camp? Inn by the Sea, Pass Christian Miss (summer)

Side note: She was also Head of Physical Education at most of these camps. I Googled all these places some still exist and some are elusive.

Labeled: ‘Cape Cod Archery’, likely at Camp Owaissa, Orleans MA, 1923. Note the socks.
Labeled: ‘AA Houseparty 1934’, and if this was a summer camp, it was likely ‘Inn by the Sea, Pass Christian Miss’. Note the uneven tan lines on her ankles :).

Most of the above was brand new to me, but this part I knew about:

  • 1937 – M.V. Silverwillow, New Orleans, Nov 7, 1937 – San Francisco Apr 1938 to Vanc-Vict
    • Side note: this is the solo freight boat around the world from one of the big envelopes awaiting further exploration, but for context Vanc-Vict means Vancouver-Victoria, Canada
  • 1938 – R & I concluded [word I can’t read] for marriage ASAP; June 22 Jean Eliz to Mary. July 3 – Mary had a ‘heart flutter’ in host. P.S. In 1962 open heart operation
    • Side note: R is Roy Shadbolt, her husband, who was a flirty engineer on the aforementioned boat. Jean Eliz is my mother, who was born June 22, 1938, and Mary (also Elizabeth, like me) is my grandmother and Helen’s sister, eight years her junior. The heart flutter, sadly, was a sign of health ailments to come.
Labeled: SW 1937 PM on the boat deck [Likely means Silverwillow, in the afternoon]. She looks happy.

And that is where the timeline ends.