Horrors Of Pacific Voyages
p. 74 · Read in the full issue
Letter to the Editor THE author of “Luxury Liners” (in your November issue) has done little to awaken his readers to the real terrors of travel on the Pacific. He has omitted even mention of those twin horrors which darken the days of a Pacific voyage— chilled mutton and the sea-cook who does unmentionable things to this unsavory comestible.
Physically, the Pacific sea-cook re sembles his brethren the world over, spiritually, he is a survivor of the bar baric age. His culinary art has been handed down as an unchanged and un changeable heritage from that remote period. A Pacific voyage is, therefore, an expedition into primordial antiquity, that leaves the explorer shuddering when he emerges.
The voyager becomes veritably ovine in cellular structure by the time his journey is completed.
Need I go into detail? The very sight of “boiled mutton” in a bill-of-fare is for evermore devastating to the appetite of one who has sailed the world’s greatest ocean.
I am, etc.,
Haneanea.
Tahiti, 4/1/1940.