A woman who had a small grocery store also had a sailors boarding house across the street, we went to her to apply for a ship. She asked us where our sailors bags were, we told her in London. She took us in and told us to send for our bags. The bags did not come because there were none. She made us write a letter that she herself would mail, and still no bags, and a sailor had to have his outfit. After feeding us a few weeks, she could not throw us out and mourn her loss, so she got us a ship, and her compensation was our first months pay. My pal was sent to Nova Scotia on a sailing ship, and I to Java on a Holland steamer. The name of the ship was MENELAUS and the homeport Amsterdam. The date of signing was Feb.22 and day of sailing was Feb. 24, 1894 from Birkenhead, across the river Mersey opposite Liverpool.
My enthusiasm of being at last on a ship did not last long. The sea-sickness which lasted 4 days was double hard. I was not only very sick but had to work 8 hours a day as coal passer, and soon learned that there is no time for sickness, you either work or die.
The officers were British, the crew Hollanders. The boiler crew consisted of 6 firemen and 3 coal passers. Two firemen and one coalpasser on a four hour watch. I was on the 4 to 8 watch. We had to miss our supper being on watch, but after eight at night we were given the black pan, which were leftovers from the officers table, and kept warm until we were ready to eat.
The first port we reached was Port Said, we took on coal there, a big light in a box was hoisted and hung on the bow, this was used as search light while going thru the canal. The speed limit was 5 miles with sand on both sides of the canal as far as the eye can see. I did see an Oasis with palm trees, and a camel rider, but a sailor told me that this was a FATA MORGANA, a reflection of a scene hundreds of miles away. There are two lakes in the canal known as the big and small bitter seas. At night in the large bitter sea I saw an illuminated place, and was told it was the sultans palace in Ismalia. It was about a 100 miles from Port Said to Suez.
In Suez we received Arab passengers who journeyed to Jidda and from there to Mecca the Jerusalem of the Arabs. After we lifted anchor at Jidda, we were on our long journey to Batavia, the chief port of Java. The heat in the fireroom was terrible, there were no fans. After working the fires, we went on our knees and put our heads in the coal bunker to get a breath of air. To go on deck we had to have our cap in one hand and the sweat rag in the other because the handrail was too hot to be touched with bare hands.
Coming from watch we often laid on deck an hour or longer before we were able to wash our dirty bodies.
Our living quarters were very good, they were on the foreward deck, it was roomy for the nine of us, and had good light and ventilation. As the crew was Hollandish I had to learn Hollandish. There was one fireman on board that was German, and what a man, I still think of him with gratitude. All's well that ends well, and finally we reached Batavia. The name of the port was Brick. Batavia is about 3 miles from the harbor. After unloading our cargo for this port we sailed to Samarang and Soerabaya, to load coffee for the return trip.
On Sunday we went to a place called the cantine in Batavia, and there I met some Germans who served in the Holland foreign legion.
I wanted information about staying in Batavia, because I had a holy fear of the return trip. They advised me to go back, that there was no future in Java, they were also eager to go back after their 5 years enlistment had expired. On the return trip we had more Pilgrims to Mecca.
Sailors as a rule buy souvenirs, and sell them at home at a profit. The souveniers from Batavia were Monkeys. After leaving port they had the freedom of the ship. One day sailors were splicing rope, and the monkeys gathered the ends, and helped the cook by putting the short ends in the pot for soup. A fireman who found a piece in his soup raised hell with the cook, the cook complained to the captain, and the captain ordered that the monkeys will have to be caged, and the owners were charged for feed. The roundup of the monkeys I will never forget. All of them were better climbers than the sailors. Some climbed the Mast and when the sailor followed they took to the cable connecting the masts, and when they were over the funnel they dropped in. One was cornered at the handrail, and the fear in the monkey's eyes was like that of a human, before he jumped overboard.
My souvenier from Java was Malaria Fever and I had a liberal dose of it. A shaking chill, so intense that my teeth chattered followed by sweat and weakness.
We had a doctor on board that I consulted, but was ordered back to my quarters with polite words I did not understand.
What was needed was another coal passer, and if I did not go watch, the other two would have to work 6 hours, when 4 hours were almost beyond endurance. One coal passer kicked me with his foot while I laid helpless in my bunk. The German fireman who happened to see it gave him a punch in the jaw, and let it be known that he would not tolerate an attack on me.
He helped me down to the fire room, put me up on a corner and said I'll get my own coal, even if I have to get them for the other fireman too.
This went on until we reached Gibraltar, and we were only a few days from our home port, Amsterdam, when our Doctor remembered that we had a malaria patient on board. He came to see me and gave order to keep me away from the fire room. At Amsterdam he came again and wanted to know if my parents were living, and advised me to go home.
He did not tell me that I could have gone to a Hospital in Amsterdam at Company's expense, but the disciple of Hippocrates saved his company a hospital bill.
How could I go home? I had disobeyed my parents orders, to come home, and what were they to do with a sick son ?
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