A 35-day crossing

There were big gaps between the planks of the “lifeboats” , and because we hadn’t taken on any provisions, the menu at every meal consisted of potatoes and pork fat washed down with water. The cockroaches raced for everything the cook put on the table, and at night legions of rats swarmed across my bed. We broke down four or five times, drifting with the wind towards the Sargasso Sea. Crates of limp lettuce thrown overboard by steamers floated past our boat, surrounded by groups of feasting, orangey-yellow sea turtles. When the engine problems were fixed, the Foudroyant started off once more with a ballet of leaping dolphins at her bow. Fortunately, when the next storm hit, the engines were working! It was frightening to see the waves crashing onto the deck. We had to hang on for our lives, and then run to the ladder before the next one hit. With all the breakdowns, the captain wasn’t sure he had enough coal to get to Île-Saint-Pierre. I kept drawing, and tried to make myself useful by scraping the flaking paint off the bridge.