MEDITERRANEAN SEA, 4.11.47, Tues. We’re now tossing on the blue waters of the Mediterranean. It’s become so warm that sitting on the deck brings perspiration to my brow. I’ve managed to save some warm weather clothes, and am now walking around in short pants, searching out shade to hide from the sun’s beaming face.
Now and then the coast of Africa comes into view, particularly where it’s mountainous; in the evenings lights wink back at us from those same mountains.
A huge wind rose this afternoon, almost knocking us off our feet. The sea wasn’t so churned up, but the ship heaved anyway, and my head felt heavy. I’ll be smarter this time and not succumb to seasickness, [since] after all a large part of it is due purely to thought alone — apparently several people began throwing up even as the ship was untied from the German shore.
I washed my shirt and concentrated on learning English, for it never goes astray to refresh your knowledge. Shortly before bedtime we turned our clocks forward one hour, evidence that Europe is falling further behind us.
MEDITERRANEAN SEA, 6.11.47, Thurs. By lunch time we were already 2600 nautical miles from Bremerhaven and 872 from Port Said, which we will reach in several days.
We had another drill and, strapped in our lifejackets once more, assembled at the nominated lifeboats, which this time were lowered to the rails. The ship even stopped for a moment, then the drill was over and our journey continued.
MEDITERRANEAN SEA, 7.11.47, Fri. The sea is semi-calm, and it’s raining a little. The ship is rocking, but I feel it only with my eyes when looking at the far horizon and the edge of the ship together.
A concert was announced for this evening but one of the musicians didn’t show up and the others wouldn’t play without him. By tomorrow evening we should reach Port Said.
PORT SAID, 8.11.47, Sat. This afternoon we received our second cigarette ration, as well as shaving implements, a comb, tooth powder and soap.
After dinner the blue seawater changed colour and became muddy yellow; these were the waters of the Nile now washing against the ship’s sides.
Several hours later the lights of Port Said twinkled in the night, and at seven thirty the Heintzelman dropped anchor at the entrance to the Suez Canal. Soon small boats full of Egyptians offering various trifles surrounded the ship, but as we have no money no great trade came of it. These trifles are too expensive anyway to seriously think about buying any.
-2%20edited.tif)
%20edit.tif) |
| Above two images: Arab traders beside the Heintzelman at Port Said Source: Private collection |
SUEZ, 9.11.47, Sun. The ship moved off at three in the morning, but at that time I was still fast asleep and the harbour slid by unnoticed. When I went on deck I saw that the Heintzelman had already sailed into Suez and dropped anchor again. The journey won’t resume until after breakfast.
I had a good look around but there wasn’t much to be seen. On the right side there was occasional greenery, but on the left only emptiness. Here and there were camels, palm trees and small huts with flat roofs. Along both sides of the Canal walked ragged natives, it’s a wonder what they live on. The landscape seems too poor to allow people to live decently. I couldn’t see the smallest crop field anywhere; nothing could grow in that sand."Only emptiness" on one side of the Suez Canal, viewed from the Heintzelman
Occasionally I saw some German prisoners, who must feel bad living in imprisonment for so long, far from the shores of their homeland. But who knows, perhaps they are better off here than in war-devastated Germany, where people are forced to live in semi-starvation.
On both sides of the Canal ran a railroad, and in other places was a peculiar mix of colours — red water, several shades of bright yellow sand, light green grass, dark green trees, greenish water, white huts and black highway, all of it sparkling in the sunlight, mingling in colourful confusion.
 |
| The fertile side of the Suez Canal, viewed from the Heintzelman Source: Private collection |
In the evening we sailed out the other end of the Canal where the ship dropped anchor again. There were many ships, presumably waiting for a free path through the Canal. In the night the anchor was raised again, and our journey through the Red Sea began.
 |
| "The other end of the Canal" or is this looking back at the Mediterranean? Source: Private collection |
RED SEA, 11.11.47, Tues. We’re still sailing through the heat of the Red Sea. It’s already too hot for us to stay in our rooms for long, even in our sports pants. Last night transformed into a little hell, so we played cards until two in the morning, for it was no good trying to sleep.
During the heat of the previous night I had all sorts of nightmares, even the ventilator which constantly blew air right across me from only a metre above my head didn’t help.
Today Port Said is already 677 nautical miles behind us, and Colombo 2713 in front.
RED SEA, 12.11.47, Wed. A powerful wind is blowing, making it difficult to keep on your feet on the top deck. We’re in the middle of the sea and the ship is rocking quite nicely. I stood by the gangway on the middle deck and watched the small disturbance in the water. Now and again a larger wave splashed right up to the top deck and threw salty, bitter drops onto my face, but they’re cool and pleasant in this heat.
Large valleys formed in the sea, and as I watched, mountains of water crashed onto the bow, flinging thousands of fine drops into the air. This water play is wonderful, I watched and enjoyed it for a long time.
ARABIAN SEA, 13.11.47, Thurs. We’re now in the Arabian Sea, surrounded by comparatively calm water. Straight after lunch we took part in another ship drill which was followed by a general clean up.
This cleaning went on for two hours, during which everyone primped and tidied whatever they could think of. After this we received new pillowcases, and it seems that our room has indeed become a little brighter. Tonight we turned our watches another hour forward.
ARABIAN SEA, 14.11.47, Fri. Last night I slept reasonably well, the vast sea surrounding us and the air coming from the ventilator was so cool that I even had to cover myself with a blanket for a while.
After breakfast I went up to the ship’s prow and gazed at the calm surface of the sea, from which, disturbed by the ship, schools of flying fish occasionally rose and flew some thirty to forty metres before returning to their cool abode. With their spread wings these fish reminded me of dragonflies, skimming the surface with their bellies, leaving a light-coloured furrow in their wake.
After dinner I was once more on deck, this time gazing up at the stars. The Big Bear can’t be seen anymore, and the North Star will soon disappear, for it’s already only some ten degrees above the horizon, as we’re too far south. On the other hand, some of the southern stars not seen in Europe are beginning to make their appearance.
Eventually one of the guards reminded me that it was already ten and time to leave the deck. My legs are perspiring a little at the knees — today I sat for only twenty minutes in the sun while I smoked a cigarette, and in that time I developed red, burning blotches. As I climbed into bed I noticed that my back is perspiring as well — there’s no joking with the sun around here.
INDIAN OCEAN, 15.11.47, Sat. The schools of flying fish have increased in size, and we’ve seen schools of dolphins as well.
Today we received our third cigarette and soap ration; I’ve collected a whole trove of soap now.
There was a ball on the open deck this evening, I listened to the music and watched as the dancers floundered in the darkness, on the moving dance floor. Our own band played, including “When in Capri, the Sun Sets Down by the Sea”.
As I enjoyed the tango music, I remembered the lasses with whom I danced this dance countless times in Germany, and I felt a little nostalgic for those happy times. Will my life path ever lead me back to these girls, to whom so many wonderful memories bind me?
INDIAN OCEAN, 16.11.47, Sun. All around us is only blue water, I can’t even see a passing ship. Beautiful indeed are these sun-shimmered, enticing open spaces with the blue sky above them - here are the vast distances that I’ve longed for all this time.
How long will it be before I cross these seas in the other direction and return to my homeland, travel weary and seeking peace?
