Vermont phÅ“nix. [volume] (Brattleboro, Vt.) 1834-1955, 1892-09-09
IN THE AZORES.
A TRIP IN A SAILING VESSEL

On board barque Sarah, 500 miles from
Flores, the most westerly of the Azores,
Sunday, December IA, 1890:
We sailed away in the dark on the even
ing of the 4th of December, cold, windy
day with clear cloudless sky. The sail
down our harbor is always beautiful, and
more especially at evening, when the
lights from the islands, the forts, and the
vessels are quivering in the darkness. We
remained on deck till Minot's light had
faded away or was only as a star. The pi-
lot shook hands with our officers and
steamed back in the Elsie, tug No. s, to
Boston, while the Sarah's sails were set
and we sailed away toward the rising sun.
The first week we both kept our berths
quite closely; since then we have been on
deck more or less each day.
We have had no storms or gales of wind,
though the sea has been rough and our
barque has tossed so much that writing
has been impossible. Storms have ragged
all around us, but fortunately have been
only on the edges of them. We have II
passengers; all have, in one way or anoth-
er, come to require change and rest, like
ourselves, and no one feels obliged to be
agreeable unless so inclined. We have no
real invalids on board, and all are ready
Not steamer or sail of any kind has
been within our horizon. Four white gulls
have followed us continually, and one day,
the only excitement of the voyage thus far,
a dolphin was caught on line which we
trolled baited for the purpose all the way
from home. He was a beauty, in his
changing coors, from white through the
various shades from pale yellow to deep
orange and red. Some part of every day
we have had rain, and this afternoon we
are in our cunning, cosy cabin, though
doors and windows are all wide open.
After three days we came into milder airs,
yet the winds require lis to wear thick
clothing on deck.
Our captain, as stanch as his vessel, is a
model. This is his 37th voyage in this
vessel and 10Th to the islands.
Yesterday we sighted Flores isle of
Flowers), and at p. NJ. were within -
miles of it. 1t looked an immense bank of
clouds on the horizon, deep, dark and black.
All day some 20 passengers in the steerage
were making themselves and their goods
ready for landing. Four hours this morn
ing we coasted along within two miles of
the island, a grand, majestic sight, rising
with perpendicular walls, rough and beet
ling crags, thousands of feet into the air,
covered with moss and lichens of every
shade of green and brown. The island is
q miles around, with but one small spot
for landing, no sand, no beach or even
stones, only one solid, forbidding-looking
rock, but cultivated to the very edges of
the steep cliffs. The island has several
villages, and each has its cathedral stand
ing most conspicuously among its white
washed stone houses, long and of a single
Ia nll of sin nd laT
are divided by bamboo hedges, and every
rod of soil seems covered with crops of
richest hue. Oranges and lemons are the
chief productions here.
FAYAL HOTEL, RUA DE SAN FRANZ
CISCO, HORTA FAYAL, AZORES,
Friday, December 10, 1890.
When we left Santa Cruz, Flores, after
landing the steerage passengers and piles
of merchandise, at $3.50 p. NJ, Wednesday,
the fog had settled down over the island,
and the tops of the high, steep crags were
shut off from view There is no haTbor
and we anchored six miles out in an eX-
posed place; the wind blew hard the
waves rolled, and the transferring was
quite dangerous. All was safely over and
we started for this place, 40 miles east
Spite of head winds we were running along
ing. The captain has sometimes been a
week in getting this distance, but at 80
p. NJ. we had anchored, and an hour later
were brought'in lighters the two miles and
stood on foreign soil.
We are delightfully."- located here, large
comfortable house, with first.class service,
kept by Portuguese Oliveiro. Nothing
here looks like our own land. The little
donkeys, with immense wood and straw
saddles on which every one rides sdewise,
both feet hanging down together, are fun
ny little animals. Early mornings the
market people go by, the women Gathering
along on the pavements in wooden sabots,
the donkeys with immense straw panners
laden with vegetables. Fridays and Sun
days are market days. We went yesterday
early and saw all kinds of commodities
side by side-tinware, vegetables, dry
goods, fruits and meats. OF all, the meat
was the finest. L sketched some of the
little Portuguese children, bareheaded,
barelegged and barefooted, so handsome
with their rich olive compilations and
black eyes; their figures are perfect. In
contradistinction are the beggars who flood
the streets, with every conceivable all and
malformation.
A thick, high, sea wall protects the en-
tire front of the city from the beating of
the surf, and constantly one hears the roar
and rush of waters as they are thrown
against this wall Formerly the city suf-
fered much from encroachments of the
sea. Our house is opposite this wall, and
we see the little socalled harbOr in front of
our windows, with Pico, the volcano, six
miles across the bay, rising 1918 feet into
the clouds. Lovely villages are all along
its base, and the gradual slope upward from
one end gives it fine contour, while the
other end rises steep and perpendicular
from the ocean the 1918 feet. The top is,
some portion of every day in winter, COW
cred with clouds. The crater still smokes
family, and at evening is delicate flame;
''pillar of cloud by day and pillar of fire by
night. Snow lies from 100 to 500 feet be-
low the top of the cone the year round.
The streets are narrow, no sidewalks,
and no lower story windows. Houses are
all of lava rock, whtewashed, and where
gardens intervene between the houses are
high lava walls, whitewashed, thick and
unscalable. Many houses have entire
fronts of tiles, blue and white, or red and
white, some green and white, others with
yellow. All houses have balconies with
French windows opening on to them.
Our room is 20 feet square, high, with
two single beds, quaint, massive furniture,
odd dressing tables. l am sitting on our
balcony, on to which our two long win
dows open. While trying to write l am
constantly looking at some odd sight. A
woman of 10, at least, but erect as an ar
row, is carrying, from the well in front of
tho bousa on iunansa iar Of xUatar her