Monday August 7, 1922

The Congo River

Awoken by a long blast on the ships system. Jumped out of bed and looked through my porthole.

[My porthole seems to me quite wondrous by now: through it I have seem so many new things, I took this photo of it out of a kind of gratitude to it!]

We were in smooth – I must say – very muddy water which was slowly flowing by – and there across the water was Congo LAND. Flat – covered with trees: a very tangle of trees and undergrowth and ivy – and here and there a little bit of sandy bank. Two or three tree-covered islands were near by.

This was the CONGO at last.

We stopped just a little way up the river and took on a pilot and then sailed up to the place where the ship discharges a quantity of coal. This makes the boat draw less water – a necessity in these shallows near the rivers mouth.

We are now at anchor quite near the left bank of the Congo River some hour and a half’s journey below Boma. All the Luggage has been brought form the hold and makes a litter on the decks. Aft there is much noise from the ship’s tackle unloading coal into a barge alongside – and hardly less noise from the Africans doing the work. These Africans were taken on board for the purpose of getting up the luggage to the decks and of discharging the coal:

They will be working all night.

This morning we underwent various formalities connected with landing and made our declarations for purposes of custom excise etc. Belgian officials seem to have no idea of method or organisation. Everything was muddled through with many times the inconveniences that need have been and with much waste of time which could easily have been avoided with a little forethought and arrangement.

However, we are through all our formalities satisfactorily and are now enjoying our surroundings. Just across the water – on the bank are palm trees falling over each other – a mass of undergrowth filling up the space between the tall trees between which run great thick strands of the tropical African ivy. Beyond we can see some hills: the particular ones we are near seem very like English ones: just the kind one sees in Somerset only rather burnt. I suspect they look familiar to others from other parts of the world just as much as to us.

We are really on Africa’s flat “edge” beyond Matadi we shall start rising up into the great inland plateau.

It has been rather a cloudy day but there was a beautiful pink colouration in the west which showed as the sun went down. After the very brief twilight – the full moon rose out of a bank of cloud in the east  along the dark bank of trees coming to the waters edge - a great round ball, bright orange in colour as it shone through a thin layer of cloud. Faintly the colour was reflected in the Congo waters as a pale, delicate path of glory, inviting us to follow its direction east, into the very heart of Africa and promising us a bright successful journey tonight into the dark continent waiting for the dawn.   

Sunday August 6, 1922

Lat: 3° 40’S. Lang 5° 55’E. 302 miles traveled.

Yesterday we began to prepare our lists and declaration forms etc. for the Customs officers who come aboard tomorrow, so we really feel we are nearing our ocean journeys end.

We are quite out of sight of land and shall not  reach the coast for another 12 hours – even steaming at 12 miles (knots) per hour, yet all afternoon and evening we have been keeping a very intent look out on the waters for the least change of colour. The waters of the Congo are so vast and enter the ocean with such haste that the current is carried out to sea for nearly 200 miles. At 150 miles from its mouth, the Congo water can easily be recognised by the change in colour of the ocean water from blue and green to yellow: so that we can actually be in Congo waters whilst still in the ocean and beyond sight of land.

During the afternoon some brushwood from the Congo forest washed by the boat and later some seeds: these may have come 100’s of miles for all we know – perhaps from the very heart of Africa: a bit of the Congo coming out to meet us. 

Saturday August 5, 1922

Lat: 0° 36’S. Lang 4° 56’E. 285 miles traveled.

I forgot to mention the Ladies’ Baptism ceremony yesterday. This approaches more to the church of England ceremony as the men’s did to the custom of the people called Baptists.

Each candidate was led up to Neptune’s representative and sprayed with a scent spray from the front and from behind – at the same moment the ships Captain (when no one of the candidates could suspect such a thing) neatly and deftly slipped a little lump of ice down their necks! He, looking perfectly innocent and seraphic when they turned round. It was most beautifully done and caused much amusement. 

We have had a perfect day today as regards weather. Blue sky, blue sea and a lovely cool breeze. In fact this evening it was too cold to sit in the wind so we sought the protected side pf the promenade deck to sit down.

Just before sunset we passed a small Spanish Island  - used as a convict settlement: Annobon Island, - which really consisted of one huge rock. The side towards us was sheer perpendicular rock towering hundreds of feet almost direct from the sea. The highest peak of the Island was lost in grey and white edged cloud. The whole picture was softened by blue haze to which detail was lost, leaving only the gaunt, rugged outline silhouetted against the sky.

Just to the right of the Island the sun was setting lighting up the sky with a wonderful path of glory. And the sun went down and the stars came out and another great sight revealed itself: Moonlight at sea.

The moon is two days from the full and nearly overhead. It is quite light enough to see by – but it is few who would to do that one would think (and yet hardly anyone comes from the saloon or cabins to see.)

The moon was a clear as clear can be. Fluffy clouds come over it now and again making the picture more wonderful. The white foam shows up brilliantly against the dark sea, but one can just make out that exquisite green edging to the waves – so clear by day but so softened and delicate by moonlight as to be almost mysterious.

I watched for quite a long time on a deserted deck – others tucked into bed: I had to use a Jaeger rug it was so fresh.

Byron was much influenced by water –

In his “Stanzas for Music” he is completely

Under its spell.

The be none of Beauty’s daughters with a

Magic like to thee,

And like music on the waters is thy sweet voice

To me.

When, as if its sound were causing the charmed

Ocean’s pausing,

The waves lie still and gleaming, and the lull’d

Winds seem dreaming.

And the midnight moon is weaving her bright

Chain o’er the deep,

Whose breast is gently heaving as an infant’s

Asleep:

So the spirit bows before thee to listen and

Adore thee

With a full but soft emotion like the swell of

Summer ocean.

Friday August 4, 1922

Lat 1° 59’ N. Long: 0° 57’ E. 325 Miles traveled.

Today we passed from the northern hemisphere to the southern and celebrated the crossing of the line with all the form and ceremony of maritime tradition inherited from the long unknown past. We had a day of tremendous fun and enjoyment:

 About 10.am King Neptune and his court appeared from somewhere and sat enthroned on the aft deck to preside over the initiation ceremonies for all the novices who had not passed this way hithertofore (with the exception of the Roman Catholic Priests, who looked on but would take no part). Pink or blue starch paste acted as soap which was freely administered prior to the Barbers operations with a huge (wooden) razor. The barbers chair was at the edge of a large sea water bath, 10 feet square and deep of warm water, into which the candidate was tipped as soon as the barber had finished. A ships hose added to the fun both of the candidate in the bath and the onlookers outside. Exit was made from the bath from the bath by which ever side was most convenient – but the water was so nice and the hose so refreshing that many delayed their exit for the purpose of prolonging their enjoyment.

 Great mirth was produced when some candidate tried to pull in with him some member of Neptune’s court!

The ships captain acted as a Sergeant-at-arms or MC to see no limits were overstepped – but there was nothing the most conservative person could take exception to. I could hardly say this mornings ceremony was restricted to the male novices! When all had been duly baptised, Neptune’s court proceeded to turn upon each other and carry through the ceremony on one another. Finally Neptune himself was literally thrown in – I suppose this was the door by which he returned to his domains!

“The Baptism of the Equator” is a very ancient custom. I have not been able to find any plausible account of its meaning or origin. It is practiced most especially on British ships or by British Officered ships and is essentially a British tradition. Beyond that, details are lost in antiquity.

The ships of this Belgian line always carried English Officers (one or more) until a few months ago and that explains the thoroughness of the Belgian ships company in carrying out the ritual. Besides there are practically always Englishmen travelling on these boats who enjoy maintaining a national tradition. A Portuguese passenger was at pains to impress on his fellow travelers that this sort of thing was never done on his nations boats!

A Belgian passenger approached on of the Roman Catholic Priests and said: “The Protestant Reverends don’t mind taking their share in all this; why don’t you?” “Ah” – said he “Ce n’est pas possible” and considered the question closed!  

In this connection it is interesting to note how British customs and procedure in practically all maritime matters has set the precedent for the worlds shipping. Not only in such lesser matters as crossing the line ceremonies, but in the way ships of almost every (certainly European) nation are run on the technical and administrative side. It is British customs and procedure nearly every time. I mentioned these boats had English Officers until quite recently and I understand the same is true of many other nations as well.

Of course there are “local variations” in the ritual, under consideration the details were slightly different from those practiced in the Royal Navy – but they are unimportant except to the scientific investigator – and as the beautiful certificate say with which each candidate was afterwards presented – “Our baptism is valid for all time and all places – with Neptune’s seal upon it, it must be so.

                Personally I felt very much at home – being as I was a Baptist in Bath!

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.

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.

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 41^st voyage of the S.S Albertville.  She weighs 7500 tons. There are 98 first class passengers. The crew includes a number of African Natives.