Trip from Trinidad - 2

Monday May 7, 1928

In dock at Barbados,

Dear Philip,

I sent my last letter to your sister, but thought you might like one sent from here too, so you can have the stamp for your collection. I hadn’t anticipated writing to you, so I sent all the details about the boat that I thought you would like, when I wrote to Phoebe. But as I am sure she will share that with you, you must now share this one with her, as it perhaps will be more of interest to her than you.

I did say I would mention what happened to the first Bayano boat, which was sunk in the English Channel 3 miles off Corsewall Pointl. I asked the Purser, and he filled me in on all the details. Here they are.

In 1914 SS Bayano became Armed Merchant Cruiser HMS Bayano, and in 1915 it was torpedoed and sunk by German submarine U27 off Ireland; with the loss of 197 lives.

I copied these bits from one of his reports.

“The blockade of Germany was instituted by a squadron of old cruisers liners and then merchant boats were requisitioned — with the forced retention of Mercantile Marine crews. — It was arduous and perilous work with increasing danger from submarines and mines.”

“Soon after March opened, intelligence was received of the sinking of one of the ships of the squadron — the Bayano. On the 10th there were no fewer than five armed merchant cruisers in the Clyde, a port that had for some time been utilised by a portion of the squadron for coaling and repairs. That night, which was very dark, the Bayano put to sea without lights to rejoin the flag. At 5.15 a.m. she was attacked by a submarine ten miles S.E. by E. from Corsewall Point off the Galwaycoast and sunk with a heavy loss of life.”

I will send you a postcard which shows the flag of the ship, and also the mast, which as you can see is black and beige.

Now that I have got that boys' stuff finished, I can talk a bit about our day yesterday on the boat. I managed to meet quite a lot of very nice people. At breakfast, (we could sit wherever we liked, but the tables were set for 10 - and we were asked to fill up each table, so in fact, we had no real choice. At our table were the Aiken family - Father John, aged about 65, his wife Annie, quite a bit younger, and their children - Eileen, grown up and in her mid twenties, I would imagine, and 9 year old twins (quite an age gap) Ellen and Edward. They were on their way back to England for retirement. They had been in Venezuela, and Trinidad was the easiest port for them to leave from - as it is only about six miles from there. John said he was an accountant and his wife quietly put in that he had been the Accountant of the Year in 1891. She was obviously very proud of him, and he seemed quite embarrassed. Anyway, they are going to Paignton in South Devon, where they have already got a house to live in for their retirement. They were a nice family, and I hope we see more of them. Filling up the space, and looking very uncomfortable, were two young men, who told us they were “distressed” seaman, going home for medical treatment, and then discharge from the merchant marine. They were called Peter and Richard. I didn’t catch their last names, but I don’t really care to have anything more to do with them anyway, so it hardly matters. They rather put a damper on the breakfast conversation which had been going well up until then.

After breakfast, (cooked breakfast with porridge, bacon, eggs, black pudding, juice and toast) we acclimatised ourselves to the rest of the features of the boat. There is a swimming pool on the top deck, and deck chairs all around it. It will be ideal for sitting and enjoying the sun when it comes out. Now that we have started on the trip the breeze makes the heat more bearable. We were told that we would be having a film showed each evening in the lounge after dinner, but that they wouldn’t start until after we left Bermuda - as they would all be involved in getting the last lot of bananas on board.

Lunch was very pleasant, and this time we managed to avoid the distressed seamen. We had cold meat, salad, bread and fruit, and it was all of top quality. They obviously cater mostly for English tastes, as I noticed that the food did not reflect Caribbean choices. But I suppose the cook and the crew are all English, so that is not surprising.

This time, at our table, we had another family. They were Joseph and Norah Grundy and their children, Norman, 4 ½ and the baby John, 1 ½, who I must admit was a bit fussier about his food than I like to see children be. They didn’t make any attempt to get him to eat anything nutritious but allowed him to just have bread and butter and bananas. They had got on the boat at Santa Marta, where they got to when they left Colombia. I didn’t remember to ask where in Colombia it was where they lived. But he did say he was a merchant, and they were going back to England for a long leave for the grandparents to see the children, but they would be returning to Colombia after the summer. They were going to Manchester. I think he said that his company was called Steinthal, so I must remember to ask him next time what it is they produce. She was very young and pretty, perhaps 10 years younger than he is, but they made a nice happy couple.

Also at the table were Josephine Rooney and her one year old son (nice for the babies to get to know each other straight away) called Bernard. They were en route for County Down in Northern Ireland. I didn’t like to ask, but I wonder if she hadn’t left her husband. She didn’t seem very happy about anything. But perhaps the Grundys will be good for her and help her get a grip on her situation. She had been in Venezuela and got on at Trinidad, like we did.

We spent much of the afternoon reading (my new book, Death Comes to the Archbishop is very exciting and Grandpa is reading Elmer Gantry by C. S. Lewis) we were more than ready for our evening meal, which was a more formal occasion. I had some evening gowns with me, knowing that we would be expected to dress up, and I am pleased that I did, as the other women were really quite stunning (or at least most of them. Josephine Rooney didn’t make any effort at all. ) The meal was five courses and of course we had wine with every course. ☺We can’t afford to eat like this at home, but since we are here, and our tickets paid for, I am going to enjoy every morsel of this food, and not waste a bit. I had wondered about being seasick, but it was explained as that we were only going to Bermuda - a distance of only about 200 miles, we weren’t out in the area with big waves, so the boat didn’t do overmuch rocking. At dinner we sat with yet another bunch of people. The Captain chooses each dinner who sits with him - and it is all written up so that people know when their turn comes. He does it in alphabetical order, and so we are near the end of the voyage, unfortunately, being Ts.

We spent the afternoon walking around Bridgetown in Barbados. It was a very hot and sticky day. Bridgetown was originally named "Indian Bridge" for the rude bridge which had been constructed over the river (now known as the Careenage) by the Indians. It was later called the "town of St. Michael" in official documents, before finally being named Bridgetown.

The Chamberlain Bridge was erected in 1872 and is a swing bridge operated by two persons, allowing entry into the inner basin of the Careenage.

Opposite the Parliament Buildings, we found another Trafalgar Square and a statue of Lord Nelson - erected on 22 Mar 1813-  which is older than the statue and square of the same name and fame in London.

The Parliament Buildings of Barbados are located at the top of Broad Street. It was established in 1639 and is the third oldest Parliament in the entire Commonwealth.

I bought you a postcard, which I will include, and then I posted my letter to Phoebe. But when I realised how much more I wanted to write, I bought an extra stamp for this letter to you. The mountain you can see is called Mount Hillaby, (pictured above)  and it is the highest point of Barbados - most of which is very flat. I far prefer the look of Trinidad.

But going back to whom we met this meal, I was pleased to see that the children had been fed earlier, and were not present, as it was quite a late meal. We sat with a man who had just retired (I couldn’t make out what from) but he was called Louis Alton. He looked a bit young to retire, so I expect he had made a fortune at whatever he did. He was quite a stiffed shirt, and hardly said a word to us. His wife, Edith, spent most of her time chatting to their daughter, Maud, who I would have guessed to have been in her late twenties. I expect that they are hoping that she will be more able to find an appropriate husband in England. She will make a good companion for Constance Aiken, who we sat with at breakfast, as they are fairly close in age, but Constance is so much prettier, I dare say that Maud might well not be up to the obvious comparisons that would be made if they were together. Well, we shall see. A fortnight is quite a long time. The Alstons are going back to London, although they have not yet found accommodation and will be staying with Edith’s brother, who is a naval Captain.

Also at our table were some English tourists, on their way home. Philip and Dora Philipps, who were celebrating their twenty-fifth anniversary with a cruise, and are from Birmingham.

And another very young gentleman joined our table late. He was Aubrey Pope, who said he was a cable operator in the Turks Islands, just going home for long leave. He was going to London too. I briefly wondered if he would suit Maud, who was also en route there but he was too young and pleasant for her and I was sure that any matchmaking in that direction would be a waste of my time.

Well, I must finish now, as the nice cabin attendant said he would take my letter out and mail it before we embark in the morning.

Much love

Grandma Louise