Plainfield High School - Milestone Yearbook (Plainfield, NJ)

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PHB ORACEE Ww Literary (The George H. Babcock Prize Essays) First Prize The Terrors of a Storm at Sea A Personal Experience LILLIAN REED CRONKITE, UR destination was Cienfuegos, Cuba. We sailed from New York at one-thirty, on Saturday, October twenty-first, Nineteen Hundred, and arrived in Havana on the morning of the following Wednesday. Having missed the only train across the island, we were obliged to remain in Havana over night, using up the entire day and part of the evening with sight-seeing in and around the city. In the meantime, influenced by business men who could speak from experience, Father had almost decided to go to Cienfuegos by boat. It was said to be a beautiful trip, and the weather was extremely fair. After our rather rough passage from New York to Havana, my Mother and I were fearful of another, perhaps worse experience, and urged the land route; but Father, his health being poor, was especially anxious for the salt air, and although everyone admitted that in October it might be a little rougher than usual, still they had never known it to be really danger- ously so. Therefore the question was finally decided in favor of the sea. Leaving Havana by train on the following morning, we arrived at Battabano, one of the world’s largest sponge markets, at about ten o'clock. There we were to take the Steamship Antinogenes Menendez for Cienfuegos. We witnessed a somewhat exciting spectacle on the wharf as Battabano. As they were loading steers, and as the passengers were obliged to go through the part of the ship where the animals were stalled, they were compelled to wait until all had been loaded before going aboard. By way of variety one unruly steer escaped. He tore around the open dock, scattering the terrified crowd, until after a desperate struggle he was captured and at last forced down the gangway into the hold. We were then allowed to board the steamer, passing through the aisle between those great beasts and up a narrow ladder-like stair-case, where we once more felt safe—for a time at least. The Antinogenes Menendez sailed promptly at ten-thirty and nothing need be said of the day’s enjoyment, except that it was as near perfect as possible. The sea, a beautiful blue, was as smooth as glass, and the air

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2 ATE RA GLE There are still others that have drifted along, not studying very much, but having a pretty good time, and who have eased their conscience with the hopeful belief that things would somehow come out all right in the end. As usual, June. brings to them a rude shock. These people believe too much in their luck. One would almost suppose that repeated shocks of this kind would almost paralyze their trust in a god so unfaithful as Luck. Still, it seems this is not the case, for June is again upon us, and we notice some wearing that peculiar smile which always accompanies a bad “flunk.” The “flunker,”’ however, is not the one who goes about with a down-cast coun- tenance, displaying the general aspect of discouragement. On the contrary, his most startling characteristic is his super-abundance of good humor. Perhaps this is an effort to hide his real feelings, and to persuade himself that his position is not so bad after all; or maybe his sense of the fitness of things prompts him to appear in that spirit which commencement demands. Watch him at the graduating exercises. He is one of the heartiest applauders, and, when occasion arrives, one of the first to offer sincere congratulations. When the diplomas are being awarded, and the place is reached where his should be, you will notice, if you look closely, that his face grows thoughtful for a moment, and real regret and sadness are quite visible. One wonders then if he is thinking about his luck, and the good times he has had. It is all over now, though, a delightful summer is ahead, and for a long time we need not worry about preparing lessons,—or, what is still worse,— going to classes with no preparation and listening with that eager attention which the unprepared invariably assume, pathetically unconscious of the fact that the wise never look so uncomfortably interested. It is all over—the honor man bears off his trophies amid hearty applause. May he continue an honor man. The ambitious man who has just missed his aim, passes on too. May he “win out” next time. And the “flunker,’—well, God bless him, —let him “work out his own salvation with fear and trembling.” After a year’s vacation, Miss Cumming, Miss Ball and Miss Lovell wil l again be with us when school opens in September. They have a host of friends in the high school, and we are glad they are coming back. With equal sincerity we regret that Miss Howard, Miss Lock and Miss Benedict, who have so admirably filled their places, will not be on the school faculty next year. They have worked with all the earnestness and enthus- iasm possible, and their efforts will long be remembered with pleasure. Two new teachers have been engaged for high school work for next year. Mr. Chester A. Mathewson will be assistant in science and Mr. Charles R. Bostwick will have charge of work in manual training.

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4 THE ORACLE unusually fresh and invigorating. We congratulated ourselves a dozen times during that eventful day that we had chosen the water route instead of the long, dusty, jolting ride on land. What if we were unable to eat more than one or two mouthfuls of that dreadful food at every meal? We could live on the air for one day, and by feasting our eyes on that magnificent expanse of sky and sea such as we had never seen before. So the day passed,—one long stretch of warm sunshiny enjoyment. As evening drew near, it grew chillier. The waves became capped with white, and the ship actually rocked. At supper the dishes slid and danced about the table and it was quite impossible to keep one’s feet upon the floor. That meal over at last, we once more sought the pleasures of the deck in anticipation of watching the moon rise over that great shimmering sheet of’ water. We were disappointed, however, and greatly surprised upon reaching the deck to find that there was going to be no moon, for the sky was heavy and black with threatening clouds; that the wind was becoming strong and cold, and that the waves were dashing quite high, causing the ship to roll very perceptibly from side to side. Our rising uneasiness was very soon quieted by a friend who was already pacing the deck. We had fortunately but very unexpectedly met him on the train that morning. He was travelling our way, with two other gentlemen, all acting as United States Postal Inspectors throughout the island. Their company, as friends from home, made it much more pleasant for us, who were strangers in a strange land; for we had already met with difficulties on our journey. We sat for some time, watching the storm approach. The wind steadily increased; the waves dashed higher and higher; the ship tossed furiously from side: to side, and it soon became impossible to hold one’s position on deck. One by one, as they were seized with that fearful sea-sickness, the party disappeared, each to the seclusion of his state-room. Finally no one was to be found on deck nor anywhere about the vessel. The storm increased in fury with every moment. The old flat-bottomed Cuban ship, tossed like a child’s sail-boat by the mighty wind and waves, threatened every moment to carry us to destruction. The dangers of the hurricane were increased two-fold by the fact that in all that distance, requiring a day and a part of the night to traverse, there was not a single light-house. No warning bell or light, along a coast of great jutting rocks with, still further beyond, beautiful but terrible coral reefs wickedly poking their sharpened edges above the rolling waves. None but those who experienced it, can ever know the terrors of that night. The waves continually swept our decks, and as the merciless storm rapidly increased in violence, all hope—even our smallest ray of hope—was