The Tacoma times. [volume] (Tacoma, Wash.) 1903-1949, 1911-11-13
Aboard the Steamer Eitel Fred

Aboard the Steamer Eitel Fred
erick, Off Colon, Canal Zone.
FRIDAY-Oh, dear, I'm just so
excited! We are only two hours
off Colon, the Atlantic entrance
to the glorious Panama canal and
I've been straining my eyes all
afternoon to get glimpse of the
shore. Actually, if | hadn't come
down to the writing room | think
| I'd have tried to fly to shore. But
here I am and I'm going to start
my diary now of this wonderful
visit to our Uncle SamuePs won
derful canal.
1t was a fine voyage down
long placid days of warm sun
light, blue sky and sapphire
water. But the barefooted sailors
say "she" can kick up something
terrible"
The sailors don't wear natty
!lue sailor suits and trim, little
ribboned caps, nor dance horn
pipes They pad about in bare,
calloused, brown feet, continually
olishing up the brass work and
mopping the decks.
Last night at dusk We sighted
Jnagua, a lonely Bahama isle in
l.abited only by negroes and two
white men. Ruddy little lights
glowed from the matched huts
and long steady beam shot from
The lighthouse. 1t looked like a
painted curtain at the opera house
Long, low canoes approached
filled with half-clad negroes, COM
ing aboard to go to Kingston to
help with the unloading.
The captain took few of us up,
up into the dim regions where the
huge black mast was cutting a way
through the stars. AS we swayed
on the bridge, with nothing to
hold to but tiny rail, between
the far sky and the foaming, toss
| ing ocean below, there came the
sharp Zs-zz-t! Z-s-s-s-s-t-t-t! of
the wireless, signaling a ship sew
eral hundred miles away. Only
three little iron rods above our
heads, yet that strange call was
going out, OUT over wastes of
foaming water.
Il take my little doses of re-
ligion up here on the bridge" said
the captain. Then his big voice
doomed out German song.
| SATURDAY i Panama at
last, l could scream with joy!
Here in this big white hotel it's
hard to realize I'm SO far from
home. Yet all l have to do is run
down to She foot of the hill and,
presto! I'm in Panama the
lSTRANGEST humanity, the ODD
EST little streets and MOST fan
tastic stores!
Up here in cool, Americanized
Ancon, there are airy, sanitary
homes, finely kept lawns, graveled
drives, women in dainty white
dresses. The hotel and homes
are ablaze with electric lights. l
hear a familiar American song.
Below sprawls Panama, the
flicker of a torch casting shadows
on negroes everywhere, little
policemen and East Indians In
white turbans. The ordinary
Panamanians are a mixture of
West Indian, Spanish, Mexican
and negro. Chinese have their
shops everywhere.
But along the railway from
Colon to Panama are the big, Wig
, orous footprints of Uncle Sam.
Between the little matched huts,
IN front of which play naked black
babies, / read Drink Hocus Po-
Gus" and Wear the Step-Easy
Shoe"
The wireless man and the big,
quiet American from Opaloosa
Ipiloted me up the crooked little
Colon street, full of strange sights,
their kindly voices, called a last
CHEEKY goodbye as the train pulled
ut. taking Inc to the other side
of the isthmus.
l haven't seen much of the
women down here yet, but I'm 60
ing to. Good night till tomorrow!
SUE.
When you meet a meek person