Missing Friends: Being the Adventures of a Danish Emigrant in Queensland (1871-1880) — John Shaqi
Missing Friends: Being the Adventures of a Danish Emigrant in Queensland (1871-1880)Weitemeyer, Thorvald Peter Ludwig
History
Missing Friends: Being the Adventures of a Danish Emigrant in Queensland (1871-1880)
Weitemeyer, Thorvald Peter Ludwig
Queensland -- Description and travel
The prospectus said that the best and most wholesome food would be
served out to us in abundance, and to look at the bill of fare one would
think it enough to satisfy any gormandizer. But we got nothing at all
the first day, and I was unspeakably hungry. The prospectus said also
that bed-clothes were supplied to us, and these were already in the
bunks--it said mattrass, pillow, sheets, and blanket. The mattrass and
pillow were right enough. The sheets it did not matter much about--they
were no good at all for their purpose. But the blanket, the only thing
we had to cover ourselves with at night on a four months' voyage, was
smaller than the size of a little dining-table when it was spread out,
about the size of a saddle-cloth and much inferior in quality to
anything worthy of the name of blanket I have ever seen before or since.
As a consequence, those who had like myself put faith in that part of
the promises made us, and who had no other bed-clothes, were compelled
when we went to bed at night, to put on all the clothes we had and sleep
in them. I slept every night for months at a stretch in my overcoat,
woollen comforter around my neck, and the blanket, the all sufficient
bed-clothes, rolled round my head!
I did not, as it may be imagined, sleep at all the first night on board
the ship. At break of day the cook came in with a large wooden bowl of
hot potatoes, which he put on the table singing out, "Breakfast!" I was
thankful because I was very hungry, and I began at once to get out of
the bunk so as to lose no time, but I was not half way to the table
before a dozen Germans had rushed the dish and stuffed all the hot
potatoes into their pockets, their shirts, anywhere. There was not a
taste left! We were twenty-six men in that compartment, and now the row
of last night began again with renewed vigour. I looked upon it as a
lesson in smartness which I should have to learn, and I thought that if
I did not learn it soon it would be a bad job. Half of the twenty-six
men were Danes--in fact we were fourteen Danes in the compartment
against twelve Germans, because I, who hailed from Hamburg, had been
classified as a German although I am not. I believe it was a
premeditated assault on the potatoes by the Germans, because they were
all in it, and not one of the Danes had got a morsel to eat. The twelve
Germans gave nothing up. They ate the potatoes intended for us all with
great composure while we others were storming at them. Didn't I feel
wild!
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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