The Pacific commercial advertiser. [volume] (Honolulu, Hawaiian Islands) 1885-1921, 1904-04-04
A DAY ON A PACIFIC LINER

BY Rev. Francis e. Clark.


Life on a Pacific liner is like. yet
decidedly unlike. life on an Atlantic
liner.
There is so much more of the former;
the Pacific is so much wider, lonelier,
and, for the most part, more peaceful,
as it ought to be to. live up to its name.
that even seasoned travellers, who have
made many trips across the Atlantic
ferry. can hardly realize what crossing
the Pacific means.
Fellow travellers have a much better
chance to get acquainted on the Pacific
than on the Atlantic. On the Atlantic
no sooner do they know one another's
names, by careful study of the pas
senger list and the tags on the steamer
chairs, than the green shores of Ireland
loom up, and the slight chain of ac-
duaintance is snapped when the putting
| little tender makes fast to the big ship
and separates the companions of a
week.
But on the Pacific the days iengthen
into weeks; groups Of passe lgers find
their temporary affinities; they organ
ize tournaments, get UP entertainments.
discuss politics, theology, and social
conditions; they have theis evening
sings" and Sunday services; and, for
the time being. regard themselves as
belonging to one great family.
Shall 1 introduce you to life on the
Sierra, spending a typical day together
on these tropic seas2
OUR FLOATING HOME.
The Sierra, you must know. is one
of the best boats that plough the Pa
cific She belongs to the Oceanic line,
and plies back and forth between San
Francisco and Sydney, Australia, six
times a year, breaking the long journey
at Honolulu and Page Page, making
a round trip of fourteen thousand miles
OF this great and wide sea-a vast
shuttle flying through an enormous
loom.
She is as staunch and trim a ship as
ever was launched, and affords better
accommodations and makes faster time
than the average Atlantic liner.
Captain Houdlette is jovial and kind
ly. and a great favorite on 'fhe coast,
which he has piled for many years, and
all the other officers are skilifui and
kindly and courteous.
So much for our floating home and
the officials of cur floating family.
We will begin our typical day at sun
rise or before, as every waking day
would begin, were it not for the arti-
fetal. eIectric-light life we live.
The sun comes up rapidly when once
the upper edge of his disk touches the
horizon, and promptly on schedule
time, at six o'clock; for we are near
the equator. and here he keeps very
regular hours all the year around, di-
viding the day and the night into two
equal sections of twelve hours each
The sea is ruffled by fresh breeze
from the east; white caps dance for
moment on the crest of every wave
and then disappear, while a long heavy
swell gently careens our good ship as
she falls. into its trough or rises on
its opposite slope. But we got used
to this long ago, and it no longer ex-
cites a qualm of seasick agony in the
most sensitive stomach,
Bath, sir?" calls out the steward
as he raps on our stateroom door; and,
hastily slipping on a Japanese kimono,
we take our towels and seek not a
stuffy subterranean bathroom, but
big canvas tub on the forward deck.
into which a great gushing hose leads
from the salt sea itself.
Into this we dive head foremost,
while the water splashes and slops
over on the streaming decks, and our
tub itself, secured on two horizontal
masts by heavy ropes, lurches and
plunges with every roll of the ship.
and sometimes threatens to spill us out
altogether.
The bath over, then comes a quiet
hour on deck before breakfast, with,
the fresh breezes blowing full upon
us; for we do not have to seek shelf
cred hooks and do ourselves up like
nlummies as on the cold, fog-bound
Atlantic.
In nothing else is the contrast be-
tween the Atlantic and the Pacific
more delightful.