Around the World on the Laconia

By Mary E. Kirkpatrick

Over a century ago, sisters Mary E. Kirkpatrick and Lida S. Long, set sail around the world aboard the Laconia. They departed on January 30th 1924 and covered over 30,000 miles before returning on July 26th of the same year. This is Mary's personal journal of their adventures, scanned to pdf before conversion to a word document and then, once again, transformed into ebook and paperback versions. There are glitches in the format, but the voice is true.

"THE experiences recorded in the following pages are gleaned from the notes taken on my recent voyage around the world. The re-writing of my journal has been a real pleasure in that it was a revue of the a most delightful trip. For special information concerning conditions in the Orient and some historical data, I wish to acknowledge my indepbtedness to "Round the World Traveler" whose author, Dr. D.E. Lorenz, was the efficient director of our cruise." M.E.K.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Winterbourne Farm Publishing
• Release date: Dec 11, 2022
• ISBN: 9780997890297

Book preview

FOREWORD

The experiences recorded in the following pages are gleaned from the notes taken on my recent voyage around the world. The re-writing of my journal has been a real pleasure in that it was a revue of a most delightful trip. For special information concerning conditions in the Orient and some historical data, I wish to ac­ knowledge my indebtedness to Round the World Traveler whose author, Dr. D. E. Lorenz, was the very efficient director of our cruise.

M.E.K. – December 1925

0UR DEPARTURE

IT was about midnight when the first loud whistle blew, and half an hour later the Laconia was slip­ ping out from her berth in San Pedro for the long trip across the seas.

We had a fine big stateroom with two ward­ robes. A stationary bowl, with chest of drawers on either side, formed the dividing line. My sister's half of the house included the upper berth, but I owned the couch and porthole. I deposited my hat in her upstairs, and in return gave her the privilege of looking out of my porthole, and I let her breathe the air that came through it.

It was precaution and not necessity that kept us in our berths the first half day, with meals served on trays; but we were on deck in the afternoon and selected a place amidship for our steamer chairs. I asked the deck steward how far we were from Los Angeles and he said: Clouse to 200 miles.

We were given a good send-off by relatives and friends. My boat letters, which will be kept as permanent memorials of my trip, were to be reserved for the second day out. There was one even from little Mary, in which she expressed the hope that I would not be drowned. Christopher's letter was dec­ orated with ink sketches showing the ocean set on fire by fish hurrying after the Laconia.  My bad reputation as a sailor had supplied the theme for his letter and advice.

There is a pert damsel called Mary,

Whose feet by the rail, at sea, tarry.

When the waves rise and fall

It's not her fault at all

That the fish feel much hilary.

For you see that this damsel so neat

On shipboard simply cannot be beat.

As you see, each morsel tasted

Is just so much food wasted?

Oh, no-the fish must have their meat.

Now, if when on her bunk she lies

With a notion that food must rise,

She will on her stomach lie

Let her give it just one try,

She will find she has been most wise.

But if the fish she must feed,

Let her remember their greed

And use the utmost care

In the selection of fare;

It is wholesome food that they need.

Remember the fish have little scales

To measure the wave-lengths of your wails;

As they slide through the sea,

To at your green feast be,

So go it, as onward the ships sails.

Don't be afraid to them befriend,

Don't those little beauties away send;

The little devils have hearts,

See; how they follow like darts,

They will to you stick to the end.

(Sing to the tune of Onward, Christian Soldier)

Onward little fishes, swimming to fest

You will find your dinner

Ever sailing west.

Clear skies and smooth seas gave little excuse for seasick­ ness, and so I am not boasting but merely stating a fact when I say that I did not miss a meal-nor lose one.

We had plenty of diversions on board to make the time pass pleasantly. Classes for French and Italian conversation were organized. Daily dozen exercises took part of the morn­ ing. The Mah-Jongg and bridge tables were always full. Life on the high seas was not at all monotonous.

After six days of ocean travel our voyage across the Pacific was broken by a stop at Honolulu. Here we mailed our first letters home, including my answer to Chris.

I have a young nephew named Chris

Who sent some advice in a letter.

It brought me a measure of bliss,

For it made me stand sea-voyaging better.

When my feet by the ship's rail did tarry,

No doubt the fish were hilary;

Their good luck of the past

They thought surely would last

When they heard of the pert damsel called Mary.

In search of adventure and of good things to eat,

They hurried along with an instinct rare.

They were after not only the salads and meat,

They wanted the whole bill of fare.

I took the advice that you gave me,

And from seasickness I'm sure it did save me.

To show that my faith did not lack

I decided to keep off of my back,

And I honestly tried

(As I'm not quite a dummy)

To sleep on my side,

As well as my tummy.

I disappointed the fishes

Who thought they could raise

Such a terrible blaze

Hurrying after the Laconia with gluttenous wishes.

With the loss of their feast

(Of my contribution, at least)

They looked at each other in wild consternation;

They shed tears in their ire,

Which extinguished the fire,

And saved the sea from a vast conflagration.

(Sing to the tune of Rock-a-By, Baby)

Little fish, little fish in the deep blue sea,

If you're looking for food

you'll not get it from me.

When you follow the Laconia

you're on the wrong track,

So I advise you to turn round and

find your way back.

The air grew balmier during our brief sojourn in tropical waters. The day at Honolulu gave us an opportunity to see this island possession of our country.

We were driven to the Pali, that well-known summit where two opposing armies settled their difficulties for all time to come. Here the defeated soldiers were driven to their death over the ridge, rather than surrender, and Kamehameha became the first ruler over the united country. Standing by the protecting wall on the windy summit we had a panoramic view of the opposite side of the island, with the splendid color effect of cultivated fields, winding roads and quiet sea.

That drive recalls to my memory the great wealth of flowering shrubs and tropical growths, mango groves, bamboo clumps, Royal Palm avenues, hedges of night-blooming cereus, the flaming oleander, the hibiscus, with its bright bloom, and the croton of nine varieties and as many colors-several or all of them sometimes appearing in a single hedge. The Han tree, with its great gnarled trunks and branches looking like huge brush piles, grew along the road. We saw guava trees; taro plants, from the root of which poi is made; and Ti leaves, which are used in wrapping parcels and in baking. Clouds hung over the hills and a waterfall dropped from a height in a thin volume of water. There was the Monkey Pod tree, with its spreading branches, and the immense Banyan, with its numerous trunks, each tree looking like a cluster of trees. Water covered fields of rice, the tender young plants showing green, and we passed many banana fields.

Among the interesting things seen at Bishop Museum was the million-dollar royal cloak, made from the feathers of the Mamo bird, hunted to extinction.

We drove out to Waikiki Beach and had lunch at the Moana Hotel. We saw the skill of the sturdy Kanaka boys in the characteristic sport of surf riding.

At the Aquarium there were fish of most fantastic shapes and colors. An artist with a palette full of color and with the wildest imagination could not have painted anything more freaky than we saw in that Aquarium.

There was an evening entertainment on the roof garden of the Alexander Young Hotel. Hula-hula dances were given by Hawaiian girls, and then followed some marvelous moving pictures of Kilauea, the most active volcano in the world. The seething lava, the fiery chasms, and the tongues of flame against the dark walls of the pit, made us almost feel that we had been there.

We started on our way again, with the Hawaiian band playing and our people loaded down with wreaths of flowers called leis. Some had as many as a dozen around their necks. An hour or two later they followed the ancient custom of throw­ ing the flowers out upon the water.

Life on the Laconia went on in much the same groove. The French class in the Garden Lounge became a daily routine. The Daily Dozen was so popular there was scarcely room for all who wanted to join. Lectures, concerts, dancing or travel club programs were planned for almost every evening. There were occasional deck games and races. On Sundays there were serv­ ices for those of various faiths.

A Daughters of the American Revolution chapter was organized with about fifty members. It was called the Laconia Chapter of D. A. R.

A meeting of the states was held one night, and a three minutes' talk was allotted to each state represented on the Laconia. Idaho was represented in a rhymed response that was not written by Shakespeare.

We lost one day out of the calendar when we crossed the 180th degree of longitude. Those returning over the Pacific pick up an extra day to take its place, but as I went around another way it is still lost to me.

The long voyage gave us opportunity to become acquainted with our fellow passengers, but with over 700 on board, in addition to the crew, numbering 500, I was constantly seeing new faces and thinking, Now, when did they come aboard?

Day after day I would look out upon the broad expanse of water, and there was nothing in the view to show that we had moved from where we were the day before. Yet I knew that each day was taking us farther from home and nearer to for­ eign lands and people.

Our calm seas lasted almost across the Pacific, but as we approached Asiatic shores there was a sudden change and our steady boat was rolling and pitching in a stormy sea.

The boat's log was posted every day at noon and I kept a complete record of it. That day I copied from the log­ Strong wind, very rough beam sea, overcast, and heavy rain squalls. We took a few turns around the deck and found seats in a sheltered place at the extreme aft end of the boat. It was a thrill to watch the huge waves, to see the light green path that our boat was cutting through the dark water; to feel our­ selves lifted up on the crest of a wave; to pause there an instant and then dive down into the watery trough and wait for another big wave to bring us up again. It was a glorious sight, but I couldn't get my sister to admit that she enjoyed it, though she was fascinated by the wildness of the scene.

Whether this troubled sea was due to the meeting of the Japan current with the waters of the Pacific, or simply a bit of wind and weather, it was an adventure that was thrilling to some and a nightmare to others, according to the state of health.

JAPAN

The storm subsided as quickly as it rose. Our boat was running steadily on a smooth sea when morning dawned on the 18th of February. It was clear and rather cold. We wore our warmest wraps when we stood on deck watching for the first sight of land. It was so faint that some were skeptical and wondered if it might not be clouds on the horizon.  However, it gradually took on the varied hues of soil and vegetation.

Some small fishing boats appeared and about noon Fujiyama showed its white peak above the clouds.

We rounded the point of the peninsula and entered Tokyo Bay. Some small fortified islands were passed, one of which looked very topsy-turvy, wrecked by the earthquake. In the distance we could see some large vessels anchored, and knew that it was Yokohama.

A tender came out to meet us, bringing the doctors and quarantine officers. We were herded like sheep in an upper deck, and made to pass single file before the line of Japanese dignitaries.  They paid very little attention to us.

As we drew up to the wharf we saw that whole sections of it were wrecked, and the part in use looked decidedly wobbly.

It was late in the day when we were finally landed and passed along the badly-torn-up path that led into the town. Something of its desolation could be seen in the fairly well-lighted streets, and everyone came back with a confused memory of ruins. The real sightseeing began the next day, when we were taken through the streets in rickshas, those two-wheeled vehicles drawn by men. They were invented some years ago by a missionary for his invalid wife, and became very popular in the Orient.

The desolation of Yokohama was unspeakable. Whole streets were demolished. There were blocks and blocks of ruins; chimneys standing here and there, and portions of walls where had been fine buildings. Our ricksha boys could speak a little English and were very ready to impart information.

Along what must have been an attractive street facing the bay we paused in front of the ruins of the Oriental and Grand Hotels. One of the coolies said he was ricksha boy for Grand Hotel when earthquake came. He was running ( as was every­ one else), and when he paused to look back Grand Hotel all gone.

Little temporary shops have been built along the ruined streets, and people were bravely and cheerfully trying to do business. In front of one of them I wanted a picture of a woman with a baby on her