September 1, 1913.] 



THE INDIA RUBBER WORLD 



609 



Santos and Sao Paulo. 



/I'v the i.diliir of The hutia h'ubher ll'urld. 



From Rio to Santos — Railroad Thrills — The Journey by 

 Boat — Off Moela Island — A Dangerous Passage — An Ancient 

 Death Trap — Sanatized Santos— The Great Docks— The Cof- 

 fee Mart of the World — Immigration System — Coffee Load- 

 ing Machinery — Miles of Conveying Belts. 



AS I was beginning a letter on South Eastern Soutli Amer- 

 ica there came a friend in a litirry to knmv all about 

 Santos. He .seemed full of "the deadly unheallhfulness of 

 the place." What literature he had been reading I do not know, 



C ST AMAftO 



#" A T L A N T I C ^ C E A N 



M.M- OF S.\NT().S .-XNU S.\0 PaULO. 



but I promised that 1 would at once try to picture this important 

 port as it appeared to me during my two visits there. 



One's thought turns particularly to Santos when a visit to 

 Rio is about to close, for it is only a short distance to the South. 

 There are two ways of reaching it. One by railroad, by way of 

 the city of Sao Paulo, and the other by steamer. The latter is 

 preferable unless one is in search of thrills. If so they can be 

 secured from the terrific speed at which the huge Baldwin loco- 

 motives snatch the trains across country, around curves, down 

 steep inclines, and across bridges. .According to popular report 

 they run off the rails very often, but usually arc lucky enough 

 to choose a place where only the rolling stock is damaged. 



By boat we go therefore, leaving Rio harbor at nightfall, and 

 awakening the next morning with the dim outlines of Moela 

 Island off the starboard bow. Just as we got on deck the order 

 for half speed was given, and the big steamer swung slowly past 

 Cape Monduba, the quartermaster heaving the lead, for entrance 

 to Santos is difficult and often dangerous. We appreciated this 

 when, as we were passing slowly through the buoy-marked chan- 

 nel, close under the bare granite slopes of Cape Roza, a sudden 

 tropical rainstorm shut out the land and enveloped us in dark- 

 ness. The engines were promptly reversed, the anchor let go, 

 and the fog-horn started, for we were directly in the channel, 

 inviting collision with other craft. The decks were soon 

 crowded with startled passengers, who besieged officers and stew- 

 aids with the usual foolish questions. In a few moments, how- 

 ever, the rain cloud lifted, showing sinister looking rocks on our 

 port quarter and a bar with white water breaking over it not a 

 great distance away, and it did not require much of an imagina- 

 tion to picture our fate had the steamer been less skilfully 

 handled. 



The port of Santos formerly had a most forbidding repu- 

 tation as a fever hole and a death trap. It was customary for 

 the officers and crew of vessels clearing for this port to demand 

 extra pay before signing the articles, as there was the chance 

 that none would return. In that case their ships were left to 

 rot, for the yellow fever was swift and deadly when once it 

 had laid hold of them. Nor could the owners get another crew 

 to bring home a fever ship. This is all past now and the last 

 vestiges of the abandoned ships have been removed. Modern 

 sanitation has cleaned this once pestilential spot and made this 

 port second in importance to Rio de Janeiro— that is in respect 

 to the tonnage of vessels entering and clearing. 



But to continue, the rain over, we steamed slowly up the nar- 



P.XRTiAL View of City of Santos and Harbor. 



