The steam traffic of the place is enormous; last year 3,389 vessels
traversed the canal. The average time of transit by day is 24 hours;
by night with electric lights it is 19 hours, and has been done in 15
hours. In order to navigate by night, a vessel must light the way by
carrying an electric projector at her bow as close to the water as
possible, and pay the closest attention to the orders from the passing
stations or _gares_. Three white lights shown vertically indicate “slow
down;” then the display of two white lights is the order to stop and
haul in to the _gare_. The steamer presently hauls in, makes fast, puts
out all lights, and lies snug in her berth alongside the desert, while
the oncoming vessel, looking like a locomotive at night, passes by.
One white light from the _gare_ and lines are let go, and the journey
continued until Suez is reached.
Suez is an uninteresting collection of shipping-houses and squalid
native huts, with a few tumble-down mosques. Donkeys and donkey-boys
swarm along the docks, and if the vessel stop an hour or two the
novelty of such a ride may be enjoyed. The heat of the day is intense,
but the nights, especially in the canal, have a “soft, warm witchery”
about them that is delicious.
After leaving Suez the way lies through the Gulf of the same name,
into the Red Sea, where the water is blue, the background light brown,
the hazy atmosphere pink, and the temperature red-hot. Vessels spread
double awnings and hang up side curtains, but there is no escaping
the intolerable heat experienced day and night going down this sea
with the wind aft. Far away to the left, in the dim distance, is the
fast-receding brown peak of Mount Sinai; other well-remembered biblical
places stretch along the indistinct coast line; the ship speeds
southward; the constellations in the blue heavens of night begin to
change; the Straits of Bab-el-Mandeb are passed; and as the four points
of the Southern Cross arise bright and sparkling, the anchor is let go
off Aden, in Arabia.
Aden, on its rocky and bare volcanic peninsula, is the Gibraltar of the
Red Sea. It interests the traveller because of the big black Somalis,
the oily, avaricious Jews, and the thin, ungainly camels moving up and
down the streets. The town is too hot for enjoyment; it is better to
stay on board ship, buy an imitation ostrich feather from a cheating
Jew, and throw coppers into the water for little shave-headed naked
negro boys to dive after.
[Illustration: The Port of Aden, Arabia.]
During a stay of a few hours vessels fill up with coal and fresh
provisions, land a small cargo of naval stores, cotton, and
cotton-twist, and after taking on board coffee (nearly all Mocha is
shipped here), dye-stuffs, feathers, dates, etc., depart for Bombay,
for Colombo, for Australia, and for Africa.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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