A Letter from Russell Richardson to Jessie Cutting, Salina Cruz, Mexico
Salina Cruz, Mexico
3 p.m., Friday, March
28, 1919
Dearest,
I had three letters ready to mail to you here, but the American consul says he wants to
send some letters to the States by us – their mail service is so undependable,
sometimes taking three weeks.
There is
quite a story to our arrival, so I shall go back and relate it in chronological
order. At 7:30 this morning we anchored just outside the breakwaters to Salina Cruz Harbor.
The motor
dory was launched in the Captain sent Ted ashore in it to visit the consul and
see if the dock was ready for us to oil. The sea was very rough and Ted got
soaked from the spray before he had cut through the two breakers. They had just
got off the bow of our ship when the engine died and they came drifting down on
the ship. While the coxswain worked at the engine Ted fended her off. All of a
sudden the engine started and with the wind and see in the same direction they
were whisked from bow to stern in an instant. Then he circled about to get on
his course and head for the gap between the two breakwaters. The little old
dory rolled and pitched like an egg shell and when she climbed up a wave and
suddenly reached the crest I swear she flew clear out of water. Not a few
expected to see her capsize any instant. But once he got turned around it was
all right, and he disappeared in ten minutes into the inner harbor.
At ten he
returned. We hoisted the boat and up anchor and headed in. The outer harbor is
very small and the inner one smaller still. We aimed to pass through into the
inner harbor and more alongside the dock – a sharp turn to our left.
So far I
have forgotten to mention that there is a terrific off shore wind blowing. I
have never encountered anything like it. The mountains seem to form a funnel
which collects the trade winds from a large area and concentrate them all to
blow out of Salina Cruz Harbor. Many a hat was lost this morning – Lieut. Conover
lost two (and they cost $12.50 each now.). When you went onto the forecastle you
had to lean forward at a 45° angle and virtually claw your way into the wind.
And on the bridge when we were underway heading into it, if you looked up with
your eyes open the wind grabbed the lashes and pinned your lids down so that
you couldn’t close them – making tears stream out. And if you put your head
down and closed them, you could, only with great difficulty get them open in
the face of the wind. ’S a fact.
Well, in we
went, slowing to 2/3 speed as we passed the breakwaters and to 1/3 halfway
across the outer harbor. This entrance to the inner Harbor is 25 yards wide –
the ship 31 feet. Allowing a little for the wind to carry us toward the left
hand side, he headed straight for it. But the instant our nose entered the gap
it was evident that she would not pass through without the ship hitting this
concrete wall a glancing blow.
 |
| Russell's sketch superimposed over a satellite picture of the harbor today. |
Of course
what I would have done under similar circumstances doesn’t make any difference
– but I would have run up full speed and tried to skin through before we
bumped at any rate: but he rang up 2/3 astern. Before the result of 2/3 astern was
noticed we hit, just abaft of no. 4 smoke pipe. You could see the side bend
in just like a football – but unlike a football it didn’t spring out again. The
force of this impact through the stern out a bit and he grabbed this
opportunity to try to forge ahead – going 2/3 ahead. To protect the propeller
he stopped before she banged again and this time she bumped the propeller guard
– bending this a little – though from the bridge, the skipper and all thought
it had been carried away.
As soon as
she was clear he rang up two thirds again and cleared the entrance though it
was perfectly evident that the beach was only a stones throw away – (I have
drawn the chart true to scale). The instant the stern was clear he rang up two
thirds astern but it was too late – we were going aground on the beach. So he
let go an anchor to help stop his motion. We stopped all right when our nose
ran into the sandy beach.
Then we ran
two lines ashore to the oil dock – from bow and stern. To do this we had to
launch a boat – a dozen times this little dory nearly capsized but finally the
lines were made fast. Then we heaved in on the lines and gave full speed astern
on the engines and she came off slick as an ax. By noon we were tied up and oil
coming aboard. It didn’t seem to worry Capt. Fletcher any. He was very cool all
the time and never swore or showed any signs of weakening.
After lunch
he ordered me to go to the American consul – report our arrival and tell him
that so far as he, Capt. Fletcher, was concerned, the official call of courtesy
by the consul might be omitted, for he himself would call on the consul at 2:30.
The consul was agreeable and so the Capt. is making his call.
Dressed in
my spiffy whites, down the main streets of Salina Cruz to call on the consul I
felt like quite a personage.
The place
boasts 5000 inhabitants and four white people. It is typically Mexican – the
numerous hounds – scantily clad, barefoot natives. Fruit vendors mostly women,
met us on the dock. In town the narrow sandy streets are deserted except for a
wild pig here and there and prehistoric wooden carts with cumbersome wooden
wheels drawn by runty, bony, oxen. Nothing seems to thrive, the children are skinny,
all are small of stature and the men can’t even grow a healthy appearing
mustache. A flock of goats and kids obstructed the crossing at one street and
even they were stunted, scrawny animals.
We passed
the city garrison. An ordinary Mexican structure was a long veranda along its
front. The wall was completely covered with cartridge belts, hung there and numerous
rifles leaned against it. A sentinel stood by the door in a strictly military
posture, absolutely rigid, the gun by his side almost as long as he was tall.
He looks neither to the right or left – yet I believe he saw everything. Next
to the irregular mass of flat rocks bordering the street which I took to be a
sidewalk was built a barricade of brick four feet high and two feet thick with rifle
slits in it every few feet.
Love in a
hurry - Russell
