[Thomas Waters to his parents]
[from a transcript]
Wealth of Nations
San Francisco.
December 10th 1867
Dear Father and Mother
I commence this at sea, but I have nothing interesting to write, for one day afloat is the same as the rest and the next all very monotonous. We got caught in a typhoon in the China Sea, but it did us little damage, swept our decks and blew some of our sails to pieces and left us only 6 live fowls out of 6 dozen. We buried one man at sea and I do not remember ever feeling the solemnity of the burial service as much before (tho’ he was a confounded rascal) “We therefore commit his body to the deep”, a big splash, and all the King’s Horses etc could not pick him up again, vanished! After I had done reading the service I heard an old tar say, “Oh! there’s many a one of us who will rest in the same deep grave with no one to read prayers, or even to say ‘poor fellow’ as we go down, each will say his own burial service with his mouth full of water”. He meant that many of us might be wrecked on a stormy night or washed overboard or go down in a foundering ship, then of course each would gurgle his own service. A glass of grog set them all to rights, specially the old tar. About ducks – how old or how young was the youngest duck that you ever cooked? In Manilla at the Luzon Lakes immense quantities of ducks are kept and they set them on eggs and when the eggs or young ones are about three quarters hatched they cook the eggs and it is quite an expensive dish, say about 4 pence each egg, they are as you may easily suppose particularly tender, still a person unaccustomed to such dainties might feel a kind of qualm when, on cracking the shell, a duck’s bill pops out amidst what the natives call duck’s milk. I never ate any myself for I am getting more sensitive below the belt than I used to be. My health is very much better than it used to be in China, the cool climate has revived me but I think I must take another rest ashore after this cruise, that is if I can afford it, my eyes which you know a sailor cannot easily do without are not as I would like them to be and a famous occulist recommended grass and green trees, but not to be mixed up and taken at bed time, I am afraid you will think I am drifting into a kind of whimsy state of mind, always fretting about my health, and perhaps I am. I was in hopes that you would receive this before Xmas, but now you cannot. I hope you will have as merry a Xmas as we used to, when it appeared to us youngsters not to come quite once a year, a year was a long time then!
I hope you and Papa are well and that your cough has entirely gone. Elizabeth was unwell in the last letter. I hope Mr Pyne and children are well, Sarah, Jane & Nancy, Ben & Barbara, Uncle, Aunt & cousins and I am inclined to write the last sentence in our old bedside prayer – and everybody in this world – Amen! We arrived here November 3rd all well and I am chartered to come to Liverpool from here with a load of grain. I received your dear kind letters September 5th & October 25th and was very very glad to see your sweet handwriting. I cannot tell you how sorry I was to hear you had been so sick. Glad to hear Papa was well, hope to see you all soon, next May or June. Hope Elizabeth and Barbara may get easily and safe thro’ their expected troubles.
California seems to me a beautiful country, they raise splendid fruit and vegetables, good beef & mutton & reasonable prices 6 pence per pound. Thanks to Jane, Nancy & Ben for letters and papers
I remain
Your affectionate son
Thomas Waters
(Received Jan. 9th 1868)