“We’re sailing up the Gulf of Suez this morning. (I always seem to leave my letter writing until we’re almost to port, then everything interesting is to be seen and half the letters go by the board). To the east are terrifically high and rugged mountains – Mt Sinai and Mt Ararat should have been there somewhere I believe but I don’t know which. Egypt’s to the west – miles of sand, and rugged mountains popping up.”
“Egypt’s looking very interesting through the window of the smokeroom, so I’ll leave you to investigate. Only sand and rocks and mountains.
We had another funeral yesterday morning – the chef died.
It’s just been announced that we’ve had a fire! Could have been serious but wasn’t. People throw cigarettes overboard, and they sometimes blow back through portholes into empty cabins.
This ship seems to race along – every ship we see, we overtake in no time. We’ve been doing up to about 550 odd miles a day.
We arrive at Suez bay at 1pm, and wait there for convoy to go through canal tonight. Mail comes on at Suez, even though we don’t go ashore.
The dinner gongs on board are the most musical things – like xylophones with four notes (I don’t know what you call them) and the stewards walk about the decks playing tunes on them at meal times.
It’s been quite an eventful trip for the staff apparently – three scots lads deserted in Adelaide, were picked up by police and came on at Perth, 2 deaths, big changeover of Goa stewards (the dark stewards come from Goa, an island off South East of India). They get 3 months leave every 2 1/2 years and a lot went off this trip.
Our cabin mate has quietened down and is now quite amicable. She has a violin (can’t play much), and had it out the other day and even let me play it – I scraped out two or three tunes.
Doesn’t anything happen back home now? I’d enjoy some gossip. Ordinary mail letter coming. Love from Jean”.
Excerpts from Jean’s letter to her sister Mary, Friday 11 May 2915, Gulf of Suez
