When the gong sounds for breakfast we are fairly out on the sea,
which runs roughly, and the Ariel rocks wildly. Many of the
passengers are sick, and a young naval officer establishes a
reputation as a wit by carrying to one of the invalids a plate of
raw salt pork, swimming in cheap molasses. I am not sick; so I
roll round the deck in the most cheerful sea-dog manner.
. . . .
The next day and the next pass by in a serene manner. The waves
are smooth now, and we can all eat and sleep. We might have
enjoyed ourselves very well, I fancy, if the Ariel, whose capacity
was about three hundred and fifty passengers, had not on this
occasion carried nearly nine hundred, a hundred, at least of whom
were children of an unpleasant age. Captain Semmes captured the
Ariel once, and it is to be deeply regretted that that thrifty
buccaneer hadn't made mince-meat of her, because she is a miserable
tub at best, and hasn't much more right to be afloat than a second-
hand coffin has. I do not know her proprietor, Mr. C. Vanderbilt.
But I know of several excellent mill privileges in the State of
Maine, and not one of them is so thoroughly "Dam'd" as he was all
the way from New York to Aspinwall.
I had far rather say a pleasant thing than a harsh one; but it is
due to the large number of respectable ladies and gentleman who
were on board the steamer Ariel with me that I state here that the
accommodations on that steamer were very vile. If I did not so
state, my conscience would sting me through life, and I should have
harried dreams like Richard III. Esq.
The proprietor apparently thought we were undergoing transportation
for life to some lonely island, and the very waiters who brought us
meals, that any warden of any penitentiary would blush to offer
convicts, seemed to think it was a glaring error our not being in
chains.
As a specimen of the liberal manner in which this steamer was
managed I will mention that the purser (a very pleasant person, by
the way) was made to unite the positions of purser, baggage clerk,
and doctor; and I one day had a lurking suspicion that he was among
the waiters in the dining-cabin, disguised in a white jacket and
slipshod pumps.
. . . .
I have spoken my Piece about the Ariel, and I hope Mr. Vanderbilt
will reform ere it is too late. Dr. Watts says the vilest sinner
may return as long as the gas-meters work well, or words to that
effect.
. . . .
We were so densely crowded on board the Ariel that I cannot
conscientiously say we were altogether happy. And sea-voyages at
best are a little stupid. On the whole I should prefer a voyage on
the Erie Canal, where there isn't any danger, and where you can
carry picturesque scenery along with you--so to speak.