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changing, historic.
Most probably, as it was cold on deck, he just spat over the side and went
below.
7. Atlantic Vovage
Fanny Davis, on the Conway, suffered as early as her second night at sea. She wrote: 'We went
to bed expecting to have a good night's rest, but about twelve o'clock we were awake with
heavy peals of thunder and the lightning was very dreadful; they did not shut down the hatches
as i had heard they did in bad weather. The wind rose very high and now began our troubles -
the ship rolled and creaked and every mentionabie article in the shape of water kegs, cans,
teapots, buckets, with innumerable other things all pitched off the shelves and the tables onto the
other side of the ship and then in a minute after the ship would roll over to the other side and all
our things come back joined by all the articles from the other side of the ship with the most
horrid noise as most of them were made of tin. We had to hold on to the sides of our berths to
keep from joining the other articles on the floor. The people were all very frightened and when
we shipped a heavy sea they all began to shriek that we were sinking... in the morning the
people are nearly all seasick.'
Two days later - 'Some of the people are nearly dead with the seasickness, they retch so
violently and with little intermission.' Fanny Davis was also ill but was able to crawl out of bed to
get a cup of tea.
On the third day - 'All are still very ill and the sailors are obliged to come down with buckets of
water and mops and clean our apartment up, as there is no one able to do the least thing but lay
in bed and groan.'
A day later - 'Last night was the worst. The wind rose to a perfect hurricane; they fastened
down the hatches but that did not prevent the water making its way down to us and, to make
the matter worse, the ship began to leak in under the bottom berths... and the waves washed
over deck the whole night. All at once there arose a cry that we were sinking and, of course,
that added to the general confusion and many were on their knees praying who had perhaps
never thought on the name of God before.'
By then, Fanny Davis was neither seasick nor frightened ('I don't know how it was'), but some
were ill for over a week. At the height of the storm a young sailor was swept overboard - 'It is
so dreadful to think he cried out three times for the lifebuoy to be thrown out to him' - and
disappeared.
Four days later, on a Sunday morning, one of the married women gave birth to a baby boy -
'He is to be called "Conway" after the ship. They were all in high glee as they said it brings good
luck and a fair wind.'
And indeed the wind changed that evening, and two weeks after the ship left Liverpool she
wrote: 'A very fine day... Everybody seems happy... The days pass so fast and pleasantly it is
like a dream.'
A death, a birth, fear of dying, depression, exhaustion and nausea - all within two weeks, among
strangers in confined dark spaces, and unaccustomed to a ship at sea. No wonder the voyage
out changed people's perceptions, even their characters, as it would change their lives. Even
when there was no storm, the motion of the ship, its odd strong odours, prostrated the
passengers.
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