Thursday August 3, 1922

Lat: 5° 2’ N. Long: 3° 32’ W. 276 Miles travelled.

 We reached Grand Bassam this morning. Far away from the coast earlier in the day we passed a little tiny canoe with one occupant – an African. The canoe must have been about 10 feet long and yet I am told they go up to 10 miles from land into the Atlantic. They are said to be the smallest ocean going craft in the world. Certainly it looked almost like a cork as we passed it!

Three boats paddled by Africans came out to us as we anchored in deep water some distance from the shore. Each man had a paddle looking like a large arrow with a very broad head. The appearance of the boat as it approached (the Paddlers arms and paddles all seemed one) was that of a huge spider crawling on the water!

The passengers who came on board and those who left were transported to and from the little boats in a wooden pannier using the ships tackle (crane) just as luggage and mail bags are hoisted!

There were two English boats lying off Grand Bassam. I think every group of ships we have seen so far has included one or more British ships in its number. It gives one a peculiar pleasure to see a distant ship flying the English flag – and fortunately these ships are plentiful in all the waters of the world.
“…the merchant fleet of the British Empire totals 11,135 ships,
with a gross tonnage of 22,058,112 tons.
the ships of the rest of the world only total 22,372
 with a gross tonnage of 43,108,126 tons. So that one
in every three ships met on the Ocean is British.”

“There are always about 1,000 ships
Of the British register traversing the
trade routes at any given moment and
these trade routes have a length of
                                       80,000 square miles” 
               - Excerpts from two news clippings


We are now sailing in the equatorial waters known as the Doldrums. This region was much dreaded by sailors in the old days before steam ships were known because sailing ships were sometimes becalmed for days or weeks in a perfectly helpless condition.
This is a dull day, with grey sea and leaden sky almost the same colour. There are no waves and the surface of the sea is quite smooth except for the undulations of the Atlantic rollers which heave up and down. One can quite imagine what dread these waters running along the equator had for the ancient mariners. With our steam driven propeller we cannot understand what travelling meant to them in those days. Far out at sea in this belt of water the wind has practically no direction (except upwards!). As we are really fairly near land (though we cannot see it) we enjoy the cool air produced by the land and sea breezes previously mentioned (July 29) while the coal fires send us further onwards.

Indeed we are steadily steaming off the map! At the point where we cross the equator (i.e. 0.0° of latitude) we shall be almost exactly on the Greenwich meridian of longitude 0.0° .
The view from "nowhere"

Thus our “address” will be 0° Lat, 0° Long. The depth of water in this region is 20,000 feet (3000 fathoms). In other words we shall be nowhere! This is the only spot on the Earth of which this can be said, so we are really very privileged in visiting this on our first ocean trip.

“Now a sounding of 3000 fathoms requires seventy-five
minutes for its accomplishment, and the approximate
time of descent will be thirty minutes. The Imagination
grasps more readily the tremendous significance of such
a depth as the wire runs out steadily and rapidly, minute
after minute, for half-an-hour; while the seventy pound lead
plunges downwards from the lambent blues and greens
of the surface waters to the black depths below; while it
passes through a magic world
‘…where the branching coral hives
Unending strife of endless lives;
Where, leagued about the ‘wildered boat,
The rainbow jellies fill and float;
And, lilting where the laver lingers,
The starfish trips on all her fingers’
Thus, the spirit of true romance inspires even such a prosaic
proceeding as sounding the oceanic depths, where strange
creatures flit through the black darkness by the light of their
own phosphorescence; where reigns a stillness like that of the
farthest depths of space, untroubled by the thundering
tempest overhead; where even the dominion of man is still
in evidence, in the stretch of the submarine cable which links
two continents together, hung in catenary curves across the
hollows, or lying half-buried in the ooze of the oceans bed.”
- Excerpt from news clipping.

So far it has been nothing like so hot as I expected. At present it is considerably cooler than much of our home summer weather. There is, however, a moistness in the air that makes one feel perpetually more or less “sticky” – apart from this we have had practically nothing that could be called “trying”.

The clocks are forward another half an hour today.

On a long journey as ours is – 6 weeks or more – we come up against the question:
Why?
Why bother?
Why come?
Why care at all?
The last 3 pages of the Jungle Book (Kipling) suggest a key to the answer (ch. On Her Majesties Servants). It is a Kings Command that Christianity to a man “carries on” with the work, ones not to reason why. It is also a desire – a longing – of a heavenly father that this thing should be done and it would be mean not to.


It is also the word of a Gentleman of the strictest honour: We must go on.
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Wednesday August 2, 1922

Lat: 4° 20' Long: 7° 59'. 360 miles travelled.

We have now finished sailing west and have begun going east. We are therefore now meeting the sun and it necessary to put clocks and watches on. Thus today the interval between breakfast and lunch was shortened by half an hour.

It is interesting how large an importance is given to meals when activity in other respects is curtailed as it must be to some degree on board a ship. Nothing goes by the clock, everything is timed by on meal times. Since the meals are served on the tick of time I suppose all this is merely two ways of saying the same thing!

We are not so isolated as you might imagine when at sea. Periodically there is published on board news from the British Wireless Press – and other countries  - notably France as far as we concerned here – issue similar communiques.

For some part of today we have been sailing within sight of the African coast. We can just make out the long sandy shore and the dark green of multitudes of trees beyond. With the glass one can distinguish the typically tropical trees. The sea dashes on the sand (much as it does at Woolacombe) making a conspicuous white line all along the shore. This sand stretches for hundreds, even thousands of miles. We could follow it from here to the Cape if we cared to!


We cannot see far inland as the ground is not high until one gets a good way inland - that is quite far out of sight. The African continent is rather like an enormous inverted saucer with the addition of a flat edge:  at present we can only see the flat rim. We shall gradually climb the inland plateau as we go up the Congo river, but as we only rise 12 inches (approx.) for every mile we go it seems very flat although we are really (or shall be!) rising steadily all the time.
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Tuesday August 1, 1922


Lat: 7°13” N. Long 13°16”W. 157m to noon.

We are at sea again and out of sight of land. It is necessary for ships to keep fairly far out even when “coasting” as the currents in this region are strong and variable in their direction. With a light one can actually see the course of some of the currents.

Watching the waves formed by the ships bows cutting the water is an endless fascination. On the ship one is “behind” the waves as they break and roll away from us. The water heaps itself up – deep blue in colour – mounts higher, curls over – showing a most exquisite edging of bright green for a moment before spreading itself out in a mass of dazzling white foam on the dark blue surface of the sea, while a shower of spray, blown backwards by the wind makes fairy rainbows of the softest hues. All along the ships sides little tiny wavelets curl and ripple like little children trying to copy the action of some great giant.

This is the 41st voyage of the S.S Albertville.  She weighs 7500 tons. There are 98 first class passengers. The crew includes a number of African Natives.
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Monday July 31, 1922

Lat: 10.8N, Long 15.29W. 342 Miles travelled.

A dull, rainy day – quite a new experience for us! But it makes the weather quite cool – remarkably so for our position and the time of year.

We were about 3 hours late in leaving Dakar. But with increased speed we have made up a good deal of our delay to reach Conakry by 8.0pm tonight thus keeping up to our time table.

It was interesting to reach a port in the dark (it is quite dark by 8.0pm now) though it prevented us from seeing anything of the port except a lights and the dark outline of hills against the sky, faintly lit by the young moon shining through a thin film of cloud.


A motor boat came out and took off the passengers and luggage for this port. We remained at anchor in the harbour for some 4 hours and left again just after midnight and continued on our way.
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Sunday July 30, 1922

At Dakar. Till noon: 207 miles.

We reached here something after 5.0am. I, of course, was where all respectable people should be at that hour, but the slowing down of the ship roused me. I looked through my porthole and had my first view of Africa.



Just opposite was the small rocky island guarding the entrance to Dakar harbour: beyond was the low sandy African coast reaching far far away into the distance till sea, sky and coast line all merged into one another indistinguishably. It was a grey cloudy morning, but a brightness in the east showed where the sun was peeking through the clouds and a faint patch of sunlight water stretched from the distance to the ship.

We sailed slowly into the harbour and dropped anchor. Meanwhile I returned to bed, appearing again at breakfast time!
After breakfast we were fascinated and amused by the diving boys of Dakar (Photo 17) who came out in canoes and would dive most cleverly for coins (or almost anything else) thrown into the water. They balance their unsteady canoes with great skill and dive off almost without rocking the canoe.
They seize the coin in their hand and then use their mouth as a purse for their collection, periodically returning to their canoe to deposit their “earnings”. Sometimes they put the coin in their mouths before rising to the surface, giving the appearance of having caught it in their mouths. There is much friendly rivalry and taunting between the competing canoes which the boys enjoy as much as their spectators lining the ships sides on each deck.
We are delayed here longer than we expected for some necessary repairs to our engines.
We are now in a tropical ship. The transformation is practically complete: the ships officers and (European) crew are now entirely in white so the change is now official. Our party is in white and all the ships fittings pertaining to the tropics have now appeared.
Electric fans are going everywhere in the saloons etc, (each cabin has a fan also) white cotton covers have appeared on chairs, sofas etc. Bright curtains have replaced the darker and heavier blue ones with which we started – and iced drinks are in evidence.
The portholes in the lower parts of the ship are fitted with special “scoops” to catch the air current made by the ships advance – and divert it into the rooms. The top (boat) deck is covered by double awning and most of the passengers are resplendent in in white or khaki with their “lids” on (i.e. with helmets). From now on we must wear our helmets whenever we go out from 2 hours after sunrise to 2 hours before sunset, whether it is cloudy or clear.



We have really begun African life today.

We saw great numbers of porpoises this evening leaping some feet into the air from the sea and falling or diving back with a loud “splosh”. These huge fish were most fascinating to watch and could easily keep up with the ships speed – indeed one or two could have out-run her. I attempted to photograph a group of three as they leaped in the air. They seemed to just be enjoying themselves: quite 20 could be counted within a few seconds, seemingly playing hide and seek among the waves.
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Saturday July 29, 1922

Lat: 17.57 N. Long: 17.30W. 308 miles.

A perfect summer day – and hot! A blue sky, hardly any cloud and a smooth blue sea.
We saw shoals of flying fish today leaping from the water and skimming along its surface in groups and singly for quite considerable distances. To the unaided eye they look almost like sparrows flying until the little streak of white foam marks the spot where they dived again into the sea.

These fish lead an unhappy life:
Leaving the sea for a moment to escape some marine enemy they become the prey of sea birds. But the numbers we saw showed that plenty swim on, in spite of their precarious existence!
Another example of sea life of which we saw was the Argonaut  - a floating shell fish,  fan shaped and of a beautiful pink colour it sails edge up among the waves like a little canvas sail (hence the name). A wave would sometimes knock one flat but it would quickly right itself. They passed singly at intervals of some hundred yards – quite small but very pretty especially with the glass.

The heat caused a curious illusion hardly perceptible with the naked eye but markedly visible with the glass. This was a jagged, uneven appearance of the horizon instead of the perfectly straight line was are accustomed to associate with the skyline at the sea side at home. The appearance is of course just the hot air rising and causing distortion of objects in the distance. This is the same as the “watery” appearances seen on hot days on land, or over the funnel of a steam roller or locomotive.

We passed two big ships today, they seem so companionable when there is nothing else in sight by sea.


Our smoke is drifting away at right angles – that is today eastward as we sail southwards. We can see no land but we are on a level with the Sahara desert and its baking sands which cause (by day) a great upward current of air which draws in cooler streams from the sea and so our smoke is drawn towards the great continent – thus we can feel its presence although we cannot see it. Overnight the conditions are reversed and we shall have a land breeze since the land cools quicker than the sea. The clouds go south (approx.) as at Tenerife. 
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Friday July 28, 1922

Lat: 23.05 N Long: 17.21 W. Distance: 326 miles to noon

There is much about Tenerife which did not come under yesterday’s date which I am gradually recalling. So many fresh scenes and experiences makes it very difficult to give a complete description in any sense of the word.

The variety of animals seen in the streets was remarkable: dogs, cats, goats, fowls, donkeys, mules and camels were among those we saw on our drive. The Kaktus grows abundantly and forms hedges in some places; palm trees gave an added tropical appearance to many of the gardens, oleanders   grew by the roadside and we passed through two avenues of eucalyptus trees. Those latter are especially valuable for pier purposes as they are very resistant to the action of the sea water which causes rot in other woods.

As we left the island it was interesting to note that the clouds were traveling in the opposite direction to our smoke. This phenomenon is due to the circulation of air between the equatorial regions and the poles. Hot air rises and passes northward in the upper layers of the atmosphere whilst cooler air flows southwards from the poles nearer the earth’s surface. Thus our smoke drifted on ahead of us (southward) while the clouds floated gently toward the north.

We have lapsed back into our usual routine today. The sky is cloudy but the weather is fine.
Tonight at 9.0pm there was a concert in the dining saloon suitably transformed for the purpose. The singer (male) had a most beautiful voice; the violinist was good but most of the others were weak. Many of the passengers made this their first occasion of appearing in white (tropical) attire. The boat is gradually changing its appearance as we enter warmer regions: even the stewards and officers are beginning to change (also gradually!): they now appear in white trousers but with their dark blue jackets. It will be a day or two before these are shed and the transformation is complete!

Tonight the sea shows another characteristic of the tropics – little specks of phosphorescence among the foam along the ship's sides looking like little glow-worm lights among the waves. The phosphorescence is produced by a little water animal and is seen where the water has been stirred up by the ships “wash”.


We are travelling faster tonight.
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