Mum and Dad saw us off at station - it was very distressing saying goodbye. Mum and I in tears. Very upset on train and eventually fell asleep (on John’s shoulder) until we reached Southampton. Little time to think of anything once we reached the station at the boat dock.
By then snow was falling so were glad to go on board immediately but little comfort in our tiny cabin because there is no heating. Tiny cabin, two bunks - me in the lower because being pregnant I cannot climb up to the top one. Luggage takes up some of the floor space so very squashed in here.
I
was very tired from the early start and the upset of leaving Mum and Dad, not
to mention the cold, so piled coats on my bunk and climbed under the covers and
slept for the afternoon. By the time I woke we were under way and England was just a
little speck in the mist on the horizon.
Went
up for dinner to find that, apart from a couple of dozen people, everyone else
had decided to stay in their cabins due to seasickness. We sat in the lounge
for a while but it was still so very cold and comfortless that we went down to bed
early.
3
Feb 1952
Have
been aboard now for a few days and beginning to find my way around. Well, John
is - I still get lost finding the toilets which are in a bad state due to the
seasickness of almost everyone on board. Fortunately I am OK. I had initial
queasiness but gave myself a severe talking to and have felt fine ever since.
Mind over matter! It was very rough in the Bay of Biscay but that was at night
and I slept right through. Most passengers still below because of seasickness. Am eating like a horse.
5
Feb 1952
Still
feeling no seasickness. We start the day with a brisk walk round the deck The weather is a much warmer now so spend the
day lazing in deck chairs in the shade. Have a nap after lunch. Most of the
passengers are up from their cabins now and being kept busy with various games.
Deck quoits, deck tennis, table tennis, bridge etc. and the purser organizes
various competitions which I am staying well away from.The deck is too hot to walk on barefoot. As I cannot take part in the many sports activities I am taking advantage of the library on board. Found a book ‘The City of Gold” by Francis Brett Young which is a fictional account of the founding of South Africa and Johannesburg. Good read.
The ship is a small world of its own - the rest of the world no longer exists. On board are shops which stocks luxuries in such abundance, hairdressers, bars, ship’s newspapers - very glitzy, on the face of it - or is it that I am just not used to seeing anything else but a very drab and austere London?
After years of rationing the food on board is astounding - everything one has done without or managed with very little. Chocolates, meat, tropical fruits, ice cream. The South Africans consume huge amounts - ordering the menu from start to finish.
I am 5 months now and I am running short of clothes which fit so am reduced to wearing daily a black wrap-around skirt with a black sweater or a white blouse. Dressing is rather a bore as I have virtually no choice - makes me feel very dull especially when I have to wear the black skirt with the black top. Wish I had cooler clothes to wear.
John spends much of his time sunning himself on deck - I cannot stand the heat so am reduced to sheltering in the lounge all day, feeling very alone and envious of all those people who pass and are so obviously enjoying themselves.
Later:
We anchored off Funchal, Madeira and some people went ashore but the ship cannot dock and transferring to one of the little bobbing boats seemed a little too precarious for me so we stayed on board. The island is mountainous and from the ship we can see waterfalls of bourganvillia from upper Funchal down to the harbour, which, so John tells me, grows over arches across the streets. It’s sub-tropical here. Little boats came out to the ship bringing a variety of goods on board for the passengers to buy. Bought a Madeira lace tablecloth for us and a dressing table set to send home to Mum.
5-6 Feb 1952
I
started out complaining about the cold now I am complaining about the heat.
Being short of cash and not being able to buy light maternity clothing now
proves to be a problem because I have nothing lightweight to wear or at least
nothing that fits me. I am sweltering while everyone else is stripped down to
bathing suits. My feet and ankles have swollen with the heat and my sandals are too tight to wear and I have to go barefoot.
You could fry eggs on the deck at the moment so cannot even walk round deck for
air during day.The heat in the cabin at night is almost unbearable and the fans blowing cool air over a small area of each bunk make it just possible to doze while the noise they make prevents me actually sleeping.
I have actually seen flying fish which I had imagined were a bit of a leg pull but they prove to be real. and appear to trabel alongside the ship as they jumped out of the water.
7
Feb 1952
I
couldn’t believe it when one of the passengers told me this morning that the
King was dead. I’ve been so uninvolved with the real world - what with our preparation over the last few
weeks that I hadn’t even realised he was ill. Made me realise how much my life
is going to change now and has also rather knocked my confidence in going to live in
a strange new country. Having nothing to do has made me think a lot and now I cannot believe that I just accepted John’s decision to emigrate without consultation with me.
12
Feb 1952
I
think I must have put on a couple of stone while on board - I’ve been eating so
much. I have a giant appetite despite the heat. We seem to have been on board
for ages.
14
Feb 1952 Arrival
Arrived
at Cape Town and everyone, including us, was up early to see ‘the fairest Cape
of all’ as it is described and Table Mountain. Cape Town nestling at its feet
was a sight to behold. Despite wanting to stay and admire the view everyone had their packing to finish off and even before the ship sailed into the harbour the immigration officers had boarded and set up ‘camp’ in the main lounge.
Now there is a long queue of people waiting to be seen. John has left me here in the library while he queues for our turn and will collect me when our turn comes. The Immigration Officers will want to see me apparently in case I am coloured or black. Talk amongst queuing passengers that one girl with a very dark complexion is unlikely to be allowed in. This discrimination is something I am not used to.
Later
- about 12 o’clock in a café in the docks:
Now
in a dock cafe waiting for John to clear our bags through customs. I was given permission to pass through customs
early and John was allowed through to walk me to this café. The glare from the
white dock buildings as I stepped out of customs reflected into my eyes and it was just as though I had come out of
a cinema mid afternoon. Now have a blinding headache. I seem to have been waiting here ages. Everyone in here is speaking Afrikaans and I’ve been sitting waiting for John for several hours with just a single cup of tea (now empty) and I am getting strange looks from the staff. Haven’t any money on me to buy another cup of tea. Have read the newspaper through twice. Feel completely washed up it being late morning and having been up since 6.
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