Viewing page 37 of 54

This transcription has been completed. Contact us with corrections.

[[preprinted]]
Saturday March 11, 1911
[[/preprinted]]

9th (continued)
their glad rags, present a sight that only Durban can offer. Gosh, what rig-outs!

Sailed about four. The narrow harbor entrance and exit through the breakwaters [[strikethrough]] (illegible) [[/strikethrough]] were a fit finale to [[strikethrough]] (illegible) [[/strikethrough]] my little trip through one of the finest looking countries I ever laid my eyes on.

[[line]]

Friday. Mar. 10th 1911.
Anchored off East London this morning. Passengers are landed by basket and tug as at Chinde. Dull, cheerless rainyday, and we pitched out in the swell all day long, watching the lighters performing the most extraordinary antics, and rushing to the side whenever the Doe hooked a fish. Damned glad to get away at five.

[[end Page]]
[[start Page]]

[[preprinted]]
Saturday, March 11th, 1911
[[/preprinted]]

Port Elizabeth this morning. A place of about 25,000 I should judge, and all hills. We lay in the open roadstead, about three miles from shore. Again the basket, and after watching the tugs come off I decided to stay on board here. We loaded wool all day long,- and a theatrical troupe. Yanked up the mudhook at nine or thereabouts, and beat it for Mossel Bay, where we are due tomorry.

[[line]]

Sunday, Mar. 12th.1911.

Off Mossel Bay for a few hours. It's a dead looking place lying on the hill side, but they say quite business-like. We took on considerable aloes and ostrich feathers. Nobody but passengers for the place went ashore, and