Part 5
Chapter 2 – We emigrate
Looking back to our emigration in 1911, I cannot help but to compare my mother with the brave pioneer women of earlier days. For she had the worry, work and responsibility of selling up the home, finalising all details of the journey, and then bringing the family of four boys between eight and fourteen years of age and two young sisters, one a babe in arms, by train from Birmingham to Liverpool, preparatory to journeying five thousand miles to a far-distant place in a strange new land.
Liverpool – and my first ever sight of the sea! My excitement overflowed, and I could hardly wait for the moment when we would all be on the great ship. Had I but a faint premonition of the eventual fate that was in store for that liner, I would have shuddered in fear, for it was the ill-fated Empress of Ireland. Three years later it was to sink in less than fifteen minutes, beneath the waters of the Gulf of St Lawrence after a collision with a Norwegian collier, the Storstad, carrying into a watery grave 1087 persons, including some personal friends we came to know after our arrival in Western Canada.
This tragedy was a bitter and agonising blow to the Salvation Army, as amongst those who perished was a large contingent of Salvationists, including Commissioner David Rees, the head of the Army in Canada, and all but a few of the Staff Band from Toronto. All of whom were going to England to attend an International Congress of Salvationists from all over the world.
http://www.greatoceanliners.net/empressofireland.html
The journey from Liverpool to Quebec took approximately six days, and we arrived on 23rd June 1911. More or less vaguely, I remember snatches of things about the voyage. I do recall that we four younger children were all in one cabin with mother, whilst my two elder brothers were in a different cabin with other young men. I know that mother had her hands full looking after the baby and my young sister, particularly as at times all her family were sea-sick.
One thing I remember about the food was that every day we were each given an orange after the midday meal, this being a great treat, for never before had I had an orange all to myself every day of the week. Once during the voyage, on his tour of inspection, I saw the Captain, and to my great astonishment and confusion, he patted my head and spoke to me, but I was so over-awed by the occasion and seeing so much gold braid, that I was speechless!
We were strictly confined to the steerage accommodation, all passageways leading to the luxurious quarters enjoyed by those more fortunate in the distribution of this world’s goods, being barred to us.
I clearly remember feeling sick and lying huddled in a corner of the deck, watching the effect of the pitch of the vessel as it rose in the water making it impossible to see the horizon; then the ship rolling the other way, and I could again see the water. The movement fascinated me, and I began to count the seconds until the sky would come into view again. I got quite expert at this, and found that I could measure time with an exactness that almost invariably synchronised with the return of both the sea and later, the sky to my vision.
We passed a number of icebergs of varying shapes and size, and I recollect the crunching noise they made against the side of the vessel as we ploughed through a floe of them. With keen eyes I searched each passing berg to see if a polar bear had got trapped and carried away. I asked a sailor about the icebergs and he told me that only one ninth was above water, the danger of which impressed me deeply. A year or so later we were having a lesson at school when this subject cropped up and I was able to show off my knowledge by divulging the sailor’s revelation before my teacher could mention it!
I liked that sailor, for he told me many things I hadn’t known before. I asked about the stars and I remember his look of surprise as he said “you interested in the stars?” “I like them” I replied “and especially a bright sort of blue-ish one I saw last night”. He asked me to show him which one I meant when it would become dark. I was excited that night as I waited for my sailor friend, so I could point it out. He told me it was called Sirius, the Dog Star, and was the most beautiful star in the sky. Then he showed me how to find it by following the three stars of the Hunter’s Belt in an almost straight line. Then he explained all about the constellation of Orion and I have never forgotten my first introduction to astronomy.
