. . Along came one of the seamen
and I asked him to show me the Southern Cross. He said, "It is
below the horizon now. It might be visible just before daylight."
Today the sea was calm and it is that way tonight. Today, by Act
of Providence I won a shuffleboard game from the steward. That is
about the first since the man with heart trouble who voted for
Garfield defaulted to me off Brazil somewhere.
We arrived at Paita, Peru, Jan. 11, and anchored off shore about
a half mile in 160 feet of water. We began loading from a sizable
ship bearing the U.S. flag, named Washington Star, 40 tons of
decapitated frozen tuna, weighing 20 to 60 pounds each, and
cotton from the interior. Around us are row boats peddling
bananas, mangos, alligator pears, wool blankets, silverware,
leather boots, and "authentic Inca relics made down the coast,"
the owner of the Washington Star tells me. Some of the "art"
figures are not to be found in D.A.R. collections. Two New Jersey
doctors bought out the entire stock.
SHIP'S WHISTLE MARKS CROSSING OF EQUATOR
At Sea
January 13, 1950
We are just now crossing the Equator northbound. One long blast
announced our crossing. The temperature of the sea water is 78
degrees.
Pages:
317
318
319
320
321
322
323
324
325
326
327
328
329
330
331
332
333
334
335
336
337
338
339
340
341