Friday, July 3, 1846: Light winds and weather more pleasant though cloudy and bad heavy swell. One whale sighted, boats have not lowered it being too rough. My employment has been of various kinds, cooking, making poultices for some hands, and numerous small jobs. No chance for idleness here nor lonesome feelings, plenty noise and work. Day closes with the sea more regular and cloudy.
Saturday, July 4, 1846: Beautiful and pleasant all day, warm enough without fire. Saw whales and chased hoping to get one as it would serve our purpose for a celebration but none could be got. At 6 PM we made the land called Roca Pamlonia 40 miles distant. Hope to go nearer, bore by compass N by E. How pleasant to the eye is the sight of land though distant. I often feel that if I can once more see my native land and walk thereon I shall prize it more than I ever did before.
Roca Pamlonia is a stretch of rock some sixty plus miles from the mouth of Prince William Sound near Valdez, Alaska. It is a treacherous area that has been known to chew ships up in bad weather. But Mary’s longing for land speaks to the trouble of “sloth” – depression – that she fought with during her years at sea.
Header: Daguerreotype of Mary Brewster via the Mystic Seaport Historical Society
4 comments:
It's the everlasting conundrum, it is: ashore, one yearns for the sea. Asea, one longs to go ashore (even briefly). Finding a happy medium.... indeed, that is key.
Boy, that's the truth of it, Wally. I've a suspicion that Mary missed her family and the company of other women as well, which may have contributed more to her sadness than a longing for land.
Ahoy, Pauline! I can certainly understand her feelings, being the lubber that I am...
It must have been tough out there for Mary. I'm thankful she left us her memories of that time in her life.
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