En route to China aboard the Marianna Maru, a 116-ton working schooner. M
ay 30, At Sea

     Talk about luck! Last night, we had a decided falling off of the barometer. About midnight, just as I went on watch, the typhoon broke. Powerless to do anything, we all held on while the old boat sunfished.

     All we could do was hold on because we were rolling 45°.

     Water boiled in the scuppers, threw itself over the bow. All ports were battened down as were the hatches.

     An hour after the thing started, we heard, between the intermittent screams of the wind through the tortured rigging, a resounding crackle and then a heavy bump on the deck.

     The typhoon played with us until three o’clock before the torrents of driving rain became less. Then the wind began to abate.

     At dawn, the world was warm and radiant. Light fleecy cirrus clouds scudded on the horizon. The sea was like glass.

En route to China aboard the Marianna Maru, a 116-ton working schooner.      But my God! The upper mast was gone, water buckets were scattered on the deck, the radio antenna and its auxiliary trailed over the side into the blue water, wire lay over everything.

     3:30 o’clock

     We’re 2 hours and a half late because of the typhoon but that same typhoon demands that we turn out all hands and work for about 4 days on this mess.

     The only work which Ed, Ray and I will have to do will take an hour. We have to swing the aerial after the masts are put in order. It’s a snap.

     We are packing up now to take up our residence in the native hotel ashore. It will be sport indeed.


The Second Asian Journal continued...


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