THE VOYAGE. 7 



to friends and relatives, to be despatched by our pilot when he should 

 take leave of our vessel at the Scotland lightship. 



All day and night we lay at anchor in this fog, while from fog horns, 

 steam whistles and sirens there issued an uninterrupted and, to the lands- 

 man unintelligible, pandemonium of noises, not altogether unpleasing, 

 however. I retired late at night and awoke the following morning to 

 find, much to my relief as well as that of the other passengers, be it said, 

 that the fog had cleared away during the night, and that while still cloudy, 

 the atmosphere was clear with a stiff March wind blowing sufficiently 

 strong to give promise of a decidedly choppy, if not unpleasantly rough 

 sea outside the bay. 



Our anchor was soon up and we steamed slowly down the channel, 

 passing in succession all the familiar landmarks, until we arrived at the 

 Scotland lightship, just outside Sandy Hook, where we dropped our 

 pilot, having entrusted to him the letters written the previous evening. 



We were now off on our long voyage, and I was glad that it was so, 

 for already I began to feel that the undertaking for which I had been 

 planning and looking forward, often under most discouraging circum- 

 stances, during the previous two years, was now in a fair way to be 

 realized. The journey from New York to Buenos Aires did not differ 

 materially from other similar sea voyages. There was perhaps a little 

 more than the average of bad weather in the first two weeks of our trip, 

 as was to be expected during the month of March. We encountered 

 rough weather from the start and it continued thus for a week. Notwith- 

 standing that Captain Braithwaite assured us from the first that it would 

 change and for the better as soon as we were out of the Gulf Stream, the 

 weather constantly grew worse, so that on the second morning I enjoyed 

 the distinction of being the only passenger at the breakfast table, and the 

 captain paid me the doubtful compliment of being a good sailor, remark- 

 ing that I need never fear seasickness. He little knew how earnestly I 

 was at that very moment striving against that very ailment. The weather 

 continued unabated for a week, confining the passengers to the lower 

 cabin and the ladies to their staterooms. When on the morning of the 

 fifth day out, after the skylights had been broken in and the saloon and 

 several of the cabins partially filled with water, much to our discomfort 

 and the injury of our baggage, I casually remarked to Captain Braith- 

 waite that I had not known that the Gulf Stream was so wide. He quite 



