ON OUR WAY TO JAPAN
September 17th.—I am quite worn out with all this dissipation, and very
pleased to leave Vladivostock and see regions unknown to me.
This morning we took our passage on the _Khabarovsk_, a steamer of the
volunteer fleet specially built for the voyages of the Governor-General
of the Amour provinces. We go straight to Shanghai. Notwithstanding the
early hour a great crowd assembled on the quay, and a row of officers and
ladies stood on deck to wish us a happy passage. I gave many shake-hands
and smiled to right and left. The Bishop performed a Te Deum on board,
after which it was time to weigh anchor. Three loud whistles pierced the
air, and our steamer left her moorings amidst artillery salutes and loud
cheers. After the last exchange of salutes with a Japanese man-of-war,
on which the sailors, ranged in rows, rendered military honours to my
husband, who was standing on the captain’s bridge, we left the bay on our
way to the Japanese Sea. The troops lined the shore for several miles. We
began to put on steam, and Vladivostock soon disappeared from view.
The _Khabarovsk_ was built in England. It is lighted all over with
electricity. We are the only passengers on board, except two American
travellers to whom Sergy gave permission to take passage with us. They
had to go in all haste to Japan, and the regular boat was only to sail
next week.
September 18th.—The day is gloomy, with a low, leaden sky. The rain
is falling in torrents since morning. The sea begins to foam and our
boat tosses, tosses! I lie in my cabin inert, suffering greatly from
sea-sickness, and powerless to lift a finger. It was such a fearful
night! We were nearly caught in a cyclone. The tempest raged awfully; the
body of the vessel cracked in an alarming manner, and all the objects
in my cabin danced a mad jig. In the middle of the night I heard shouts
of voices bellowing out commands overhead. What could be the matter? I
sprang out of my berth and opening the door called Sergy who occupied the
cabin just opposite mine. But it was not easy to make oneself heard; I
made myself hoarse in vain, Sergy could not hear me. I wanted to rush
to the staircase and began to dress quickly, but I was so agitated I
could not get my arms into my sleeves. In that critical moment the
captain, clad in a dripping yellow oilskin coat, knocked at my door; he
came to comfort me, assuring me that there was nothing to be afraid of.
Foreseeing a strong gale he had given the order to go out into open sea
fearing to split on a rock. He said that in a few hours we might run out
of bad weather. Somewhat tranquillised I lay down, to start off my sleep
again, being nearly thrown out of my berth. The awful wind bent our boat
on to her side, the screw was quite out of the water. We were obliged to
drop anchor and to be pitilessly tossed by furious billows until morning.
I thought that daylight would never come.
September 19th.—Little by little morning appeared through the portholes.
The wind continued to blow a hurricane. Towards seven o’clock we moved
forward. The coasts of Japan were outlined in the distance. It is the
deserted island of Dalegetta, surrounded by mountains 4,800 feet high.
Towards midday the wind abated, we were off the cyclone circle. The
weather has become beautiful. Large white birds hover over us. After
dinner I sat on deck in the moonlight, breathing with delight the fresh
night air.
September 20th.—The ocean is quite calm. We are going along the coasts
of Corea. Our first stoppage was Fusan, a rocky Corean spot, which will
play, one day, a big part in the history of the far Orient. That port
being in close proximity with Japan, is of great strategic importance for
the Japs, who have occupied it during the war with China. We have been
perceived from the shore, rousing the suspicion of the Japs, who looked
with no kindly eyes upon our intrusion. We saw a vessel coming towards
us with two Japan officials, who asked who we were and whence we came.
Our captain told them that we had to stop at this port to repair damage
caused by the storm to the rudder. After the captain had given them the
desired information, we were allowed to move on.
September 21st.—The crossing from Fusan to Nagasaki is not a very long
one. At seven o’clock in the evening we moored to the quay of that lovely
Japanese town.