In Memoriam

As this fifth Friday rolls around, it is time once again to remember the seagoing cowboys who have crossed their final sea.

Bontrager, Warren Edgar, January 5, 2023, Goshen, Indiana. S.S. Norwalk Victory to Poland, January 9, 1947.

Brightbill, David Lemoyne, January 13, 2023, Bridgewater, Virginia. S.S. Samuel H. Walker to Yugoslavia (docking in Trieste, Italy), August 27, 1945; S.S. American Importer to West Germany, March 10, 1952, a Heifer Project shipment.

Coleman, Glenn E., December 23, 2022, Vermilion, Ohio. Heifer Project shipment to West Germany, 1956. Details unknown.

de Perrot, Jean L. “Jon”, January 10, 2023, Lititz, Pennsylvania. S.S. Cyrus W. Field to Italy, June 14, 1946.

Detweiler, Merrill M., February 28, 2023, Telford, Pennsylvania. S.S. Columbia Heights Victory to Israel, December 3, 1951, a Levinson Brothers shipment.

Ganzel, Dwight Lyman, March 25, 2023, Lincoln, Nebraska. S.S. Wesley W. Barrett to Poland, April 14, 1946; S.S. Gainesville Victory to Poland, June 4, 1946.

Garis, Marvin, January 14, 2023, Kirkwood, Pennsylvania. S.S. Samuel H. Walker to Greece, December 15, 1945.

Green, Robert Duff, March 25, 2023, Culpepper, Virginia. S.S. Virginia City Victory to Poland, July 9, 1946.

Hochstetler, Milan Moses, January 1, 2023, Cumberland, Virginia. S.S. Robert W. Hart to Poland, August 20, 1946.

Kennel, Christian D., August 1, 2012, Lititz, Pennsylvania. S.S. Charles Wooster to Czechoslovakia (docking in Bremen, Germany), January 7, 1946.

McNett, Harold Franklin, December 28, 2022, Bridgewater, Virginia. S.S. Clarksville Victory to Poland, December 12, 1945.

Nunemaker, John E., February 9, 2023, Goshen, Indiana. S.S. Queens Victory to Poland, September 4, 1946. (This is the John who found his family’s work horse  on his ship after being sold and tended her across the Atlantic as portrayed in my children’s picture book The Seagoing Cowboy.)

Richards, Robert Eugene “Bob”, February 26, 2023, Waco, TX. S.S. Virginian to Greece, June 26, 1945. (The Bob Richards of Wheaties fame: Olympic pole-vaulting champion, 1948, 1952, and 1956)

Stoltzfus, Ralph H., January 13, 2023, Lititz, Pennsylvania. S.S. Alceé Fortier to Greece, November 1, 1945.

Rest in peace dear seagoing friends.

 

Stories from the S.S. Mount Whitney – Last livestock run, January 1947

Little did the 80 seagoing cowboys of the S.S. Mount Whitney’s final livestock trip in January 1947 know their expected six-week trip to Poland and back would keep them away from home for nearly four months!

The seagoing cowboy crew of the S.S. Mount Whitney’s last livestock run. Photo courtesy of Wesley Miller.

The crew included eleven ministers who wrote the report “Horses for Humanity” of this eventful voyage. Most of the crew received their call to report to Newport News, Virginia, January 6 and traveled in speedily from as far away as Minnesota and Nebraska – only to have to wait to depart until the wee hours of January 25 due to a shortage of hay.

The S.S. Mount Whitney awaits sailing at Newport News, Virginia, January 1947. Photo: Wesley Miller & Wilbert Zahl collection, used by permission.

The ship carried 1,462 horses, including a matched pair of registered Belgians to be given to the University of Warsaw, and 40 heifers donated to the Heifer Project by the Methodist Church for their church members in Poland. The cowboys had smooth sailing the first six days out until the ship ran into a fierce storm. For one 24-hour period, the Mount Whitney, which had looked immense in Newport News, tossed around like a cork on the vast churning sea making no mileage at all.

Not a safe time to be out on deck aboard the S.S. Mount Whitney, January 1947. Photo by Wesley Miller.

“Most of us had to go out on the upper deck to work with the horses there,” Ray Finke wrote home. “The sea sure was mad. Waves 50 to 60 feet high. When we would look ahead, it looked like water would go 3 feet over us, but the boat would always go over most of it.”

“The wind and the waves battered the forward stalls to pieces,” Melvin Witmer reported. “Trying to save the horses three of the men were almost swept overboard. One’s wristwatch was torn off and his leg gashed. Captain Shigley tried his best to spare the horses as much punishment as possible. We heard later that he did not sleep at all during those three days.”

Remains of the ocean’s wrath on Mount Whitney’s horse stalls, January 1947. Photo by Wesley Miller.

Twenty of the horses got washed overboard and many others weakened. UNRRA reports a loss of 98 horses on the trip, 6.7 percent. All four of the ship’s veterinarians and most of the cowboys got seasick during the storm. Wilbert Zahl notes in his memoir that as one of the few who didn’t get sick, “it fell on me, having come from a farm and knowing something about caring for cows and horses, to administer pills, etc., for the sick horses. . . . Shooting pills down a horse’s throat with a pill gun is not the most pleasant job. If the horse coughs as often they do, you get a lot of blubbery saliva sprayed into your face.”

Mount Whitney’s seagoing cowboy bunkroom housed 80 men in double bunks. Photo by Wesley Miller.

The storm also created a mess in the cowboys’ bunk room when their gear got tossed about. “Imagine 80 guys’ stuff all mixed up,” Finke said. “I found my shoes and suitcase over on opposite side of bunk room under another guy’s bunk. Would like to have a picture of us hunting for things and everyone on hands and knees.”

The Mount Whitney made good time after that, going up around Scotland and the northern tip of Denmark into the Kattegatt strait between Denmark and Sweden. The ship’s progress slowed, however, as she proceeded through the strait. “We who worked in the holds down below began to hear the ominous sound of heavy ice stubbornly disrupting our passage,” Witmer said.

Ice floating in the Kattegatt strait near Copenhagen, Denmark, January 1947. Photo: Wesley Miller & Wilbert Zahl collection, used by permission.

“Ice became heavier as we went south until we reached Malmö, Sweden, where we were forced to join a convoy led by an ice breaker which led us through to the Baltic Sea. The Baltic itself was clear but the ice was thick enough off Gdynia to force us to go on to Nowy Port, where we docked Thursday evening, February 7.” A grateful cowboy crew had arrived safely in Poland.

Clarksville Victory program coming up!

I’m looking forward to telling the story of the Clarksville Victory seagoing cowboys at the Customs House Museum & Cultural Center in Clarksville, TN, Thursday night!

The SS Clarksville Victory and Her Seagoing Cowboys: Healing the Wounds of War

March 16 @ 6:00 pm – 7:00 pm

Free to the public; does not include Museum admission | Turner Auditorium 

The SS Clarksville Victory, named after the city of Clarksville, Tennessee, made seven trips to Europe after World War II delivering livestock to Poland and Greece for the United Nations Relief and Rehabilitation Administration (UNRRA). In an illustrated talk, Peggy Reiff Miller will bring to life the story of the men, dubbed “seagoing cowboys,” who tended the animals on these voyages. Some of the first civilians to enter Europe after the war, their service helped to rebuild a broken world. 

Customs House Museum & Cultural Center
200 S 2nd St
Clarksville, TN 37040-3400

Stories from the S.S. Mount Whitney – Dangers at sea

Seagoing cowboys often faced dangers at sea, and this was true for those on the S.S. Mount Whitney, as well. Mines like this one found by divers off the eastern coast of Greece in 2016 still lurked in European waterways.

World War II mine found off the coast of Skopelos, Greece, 2016. Source: Reporter.com

The ship’s crew had to be on constant lookout for mines bobbing in the water. Seagoing cowboys were often asked to take their turn standing watch.

Luke Bomberger recalled an incident on Mount Whitney‘s second trip, on the way home after unloading the Icelandic ponies in Poland. “My dad was up in the mess hall in the afternoon playing chess with another guy,” he said, “and I was out on the deck. There was a first, second, and third mate, and they had different watches. Those guys never run, they walk. They’re officers. I saw the second mate RUN into the wheelhouse, and I thought ‘there’s somethin’ up.’ And I looked over the side, and just like that, about the time he got in the wheelhouse, I could feel the ship turn, and he spun that wheel real fast and turned the rudder, and I looked down and there was a mine, and it was that close I could have spit on it.”

That was October 3, 1946. Bomberger’s shipmate Harold Jennings recorded in his diary that day, “They had to swerve the boat out of the path of a mine – Really shook everyone up.”

Owen Schlabach reports another mine incident in December, 1946, on the way home from the Mount Whitney‘s third trip to Poland.* “After we left the Baltic Sea it was really smooth, with nice sailing, until 4:00 in the morning when we heard a loud noise; they had dropped the anchor. Our ship was equipped with a mine detector, and when the lights started to blink they would drop the anchor, because they didn’t know where the mine was. About two hours later we were off a distance when we saw a ship come the other way and hit the mine. We saw it slowly turn on its side. It took about three hours to sink, but they managed to get all the people off.”

Rough Atlantic seas on Mount Whitney‘s second return trip to US.  Her next return trip was rougher yet.  Still shot, Luke Bomberger movie footage.

Atlantic storms posed another danger for the cowboys. Owen Schlabach reports running into a storm on their way home that lasted five days and nights. “The night before Christmas,” he said, “the waves were 60 feet high and the captain sent us word to be prepared, because he didn’t know if we would still be sailing by morning. This was a real concern for everyone, as a lifeboat was of no use in such a storm as this. The ship would creak and groan as if a giant hand was twisting it. That evening we had a prayer meeting till midnight.”

The cowboys anchored themselves into their beds by putting their arms and legs out through the railings to keep from falling as the ship rocked back and forth. “At 4:00,” Schlabach said, “we heard an awful noise. There was no place to run, so we just stayed where we were. Later we found out our metal lunch trays had gone sliding over onto the floor when the ship swayed so far to the side. Our shoes and clothes were all mixed together on the floor from sliding back and forth, making a real mess. But we were really thankful still to be sailing. We couldn’t sit down to eat for all five days, but we would just stand and try to balance our trays. Sometimes the ship leaned so far that water spilled out of the commodes.”

After arriving back in Newport News, Virginia, on New Year’s Day 1947, the Mount Whitney went into dry dock for repairs from the thrashing it took. According to Schlabach, the newspapers called it the worst storm in history, with five ships sunk during the storm. “Thank God we were spared,” he said.

*Owen Schlabach’s story is recorded in Elmer K. Hertzler’s book Cowboy on the High Seas and Other Stories as told to Marie E. Cutman.

Stories from the S.S. Mount Whitney – A side trip to Iceland

Luke Bomberger, the likely holder of the record for most trips by a seagoing cowboy, sailed on the S.S. Mount Whitney on two of his nine trips – the Mount Whitney‘s first trip written about in my last three posts, and her second trip that immediately followed on September 1, 1946. This time, Luke’s father took a leave from his banking job and joined him.

Elam & Luke Bomberger aboard the S.S. Mount Whitney, September 1946

Elam Bomberger expected a short trip over and back, like the Mount Whitney‘s first trip. UNRRA, however, had different plans. After unloading their horses in Poland, UNRRA sent the Mount Whitney to Iceland to pick up ponies to take back to Poland, adding two-and-half weeks to the trip and an extended leave for Bomberger from his bank.

“This place is quite a contrast from Poland,” Elam says in a letter home. “The people are mostly blond, blue-eyed and look clean and very well dressed. There are no officers about the ship. One need not fear to be out after dark.”

Street scene in Reykjavík, Iceland, September 1946.

“Before the war people here were poor but the war changed things completely,” Bomberger says. “Today everybody has work at a high wage and everything you wish to buy is extremely high in price. . . . The business section of [Reykjavík] is old and the streets are narrow. They are filled with automobiles and drive on the left side of the street with much speed. . . . The newer section of the town has nice homes with lawns and flowers but no trees grow here. Can you imagine a country with high mountains and no trees?”

Stucco houses in Reykjavík, Iceland, September 1946.

Shipmate Harold Jennings notes in his diary on September 22, “We hit rather a dangerous time here.” The United States had occupied Iceland during World War II, and the Mount Whitney happened to be there while negotiations were underway between the United States and Iceland over the US desire to continue having a military base there. Elam Bomberger says, “The Communistic element is much opposed to it and they made an effort to break up the meetings.”

Jennings notes, “The Communists tore loose and want to chase the Americans out of Iceland. Boys that went to Red Cross were brought back in bus and told to stay on boat.” The US Army issued an order that “no one was allowed off ship,” in Bomberger’s words. On a brighter note, the Northern lights which he saw almost every night thrilled Harold Jennings.

Once the Icelandic ponies – which the Icelanders preferred to call horses – were loaded, the ship made its way back to Poland. Jennings says the ponies are “really gentle little animals.” Unfortunately, those gentle creatures would not see the light of day the rest of their lives after being put to work in Polish underground mines.

Icelandic ponies awaiting loading onto the S.S. Mount Whitney, Reykjavík, Iceland, September 1946.

The Mount Whitney‘s return to the US experienced another short delay leaving port in Poland. “Tugs pulled us out of dock at 2:00,” Jennings notes, “but some fifty feet of rope got tangled up in screw. Also we run aground trying to get that out. We’re now waiting for a diver to see what the damage is.”

A ship’s officer rides back up in the S.S. Mount Whitney bosun’s chair after inspecting the tangled rope, Nowy Port, Poland, October 1946.

All must have been okay, as the ship pulled out bright and early the next morning, and Elam Bomberger was finally on his way home.

All photos are still shots from Luke Bomberger’s movie footage of this voyage.

 

Stories from the S.S. Mount Whitney – August 1946: Gdansk on the brighter side

Despite frightening times in Gdansk, Poland, in August 1946, the seagoing cowboys of the S.S. Mount Whitney also had many pleasant experiences. They had the satisfaction of seeing the horses they had tended unloaded and ready to serve the Polish farmers – as well as the unloading of the manure the animals had generated on the ship that would provide rich fertilizer to help rebuild the soils abused by war.

UNRRA horses unloaded from the S.S. Mount Whitney in Nowy Port, Poland, wait to be driven to a collection center, August 1946. Photo by James Brunk.

Horse manure being unloaded from the S.S. Mount Whitney for the fertilizing of Polish fields, August 1946. Photo by James Brunk.

As UNRRA did for most of the cowboy crews, they and the Polish Department of Agriculture took the Mount Whitney men on a tour. They visited one of the collection sites where Polish farmers came to get their new horses.

One of the collection centers near Gdansk, Poland, for the distribution of UNRRA horses. Photo by James Brunk.

Polish farmers receive their new horses from UNRRA, August 1946. Photo by James Brunk.

They toured an agricultural school outside of Gdansk, complete with a stork’s nest, which many cowboys photographed.

An agricultural school near Gdansk, Poland, August 1946. Photo by James Brunk.

Children gather to see the seagoing cowboys at the agricultural school outside Gdansk. Photo by James Brunk.

The stork’s nest at the agricultural school attracted many a seagoing cowboy. Photo by James Brunk.

They experienced the magnificent pipe organ constructed in the late 1700s in the Oliwa Cathedral which had been founded in the 13th century by Cistercian monks. The largest pipe organ in Europe with over 5,000 pipes when built, its architecture incorporated sculpted wooden angels holding bells, trumpets, stars and suns. “The keyboard was about two stories up,” cowboy Alvin Zook said. “A man got up in it and played ‘Rock of Ages’ for us. When he did, the figurines and horn would move to the beat of the music.”

Seagoing cowboys visit the famed cathedral in Oliwa, Poland, July 1946. Photo by Ben Kaneda.

As all UNRRA tours in Poland did, this one ended at a restaurant in the resort city of Sopot where the Polish Department of Agriculture treated the cowboys with a banquet to thank them for their service to Poland.

Restaurant in Sopot, Poland, where UNRRA and the Polish Department of Agriculture treated the seagoing cowboys, August 1946. Photo by James Brunk.

Largest and fastest of the livestock ships, the S.S. Mount Whitney completed her maiden livestock voyage in Norfolk, Virginia, August 23 – less than four weeks after departing from Newport News – another record broken. Nine days later, she would be on her way to Poland with another load of horses.

 

Stories from the S.S. Mount Whitney – August 1946: A volatile time to be in Gdansk

On its maiden livestock voyage, the S.S. Mount Whitney docked in Nowy Port, Poland – Gdansk’s port city – August 8, 1946, with its load of nearly 1500 horses. Since “liberating” Gdansk from the Germans in March 1945 and obliterating the once beautiful city to ruins in the process, Russia had been tightening its vice on the city and the country.

The ruins of Gdansk, Poland, August 1946. Photo by James Brunk.

Between the Russian and Polish police, Russian soldiers, and Polish resisters, the unrest made it an unstable place for seagoing cowboys to roam.

“About a minute after this picture was taken, snipers shot and killed the soldiers in this car,” says cowboy Alvin Zook. Photo by Alvin Zook.

“Russians were everywhere,” said cowboy James Brunk. “Their headquarters was a large building in Gdynia with Stalin’s picture up on the front. If anyone was seen taking a picture of the building, the film was immediately confiscated and destroyed.”

Leonard Vaughn managed to get a shot of the Russian headquarters on his first trip to Poland in May, 1946. Accounts differ as to whether this was in Gdynia or Gdansk. Photo by Leonard Vaughn.

Cowboy foreman Leonard Vaughn, had made some Polish friends on his previous trip to Gdansk in May. He and two shipmates set out after supper the day their ship arrived to visit the Porlanski family in the nearby town of Wrzeszcz. “A French-speaking Pole attached himself to us and we couldn’t shake him off,” Vaughn said in his journal. After having tea with the couple, the foursome left. “I wanted to walk home, but Frenchy didn’t,” Vaughn continued. “Soon we were completely lost. Frenchy wanted something to eat, so I gave him some money and told him we’d walk slowly on. As soon as he left, we ran. We walked and walked. We crossed a field and expected to get shot at. We came to a railroad and followed it. Every so often we met Polish workers and we asked ‘Nowy Port’ and they kept pointing the way we were going. Then we came to a dark place. Suddenly a shot rang out. We were paralyzed. In a moment we saw a cigarette light in the darkness. I yelled ‘Amerikanski’ and someone answered “Russki”. They were 2 Russian soldiers. We said ‘UNRRA’ and they nodded. We said ‘Nowy Port” and they pointed. We shook hands and left. I was really frightened. Soon we came to a road and we got on it. All at once it ended and there were 3 men. One was a Polish soldier, and all three spoke German. They told us to follow them and they led us thru fields and woods. We expected to get shot at any moment. Soon we came to a road and there stood Frenchy. But we went on and were handed over to another guard. This guard after a little walk handed us over to 2 boys. They were grand kids and I promised to visit them. I was so happy to see the ship that I almost had a heart attack. I never expected to see it again.”

Vaughn, Brunk, and shipmate Alvin Zook all noted another unsettling incident when the stevedores went on strike. “After about three days,” Brunk said, “a man on the dock was trying to get them to go back to work. They found out he was a ‘Russian secret policeman’. They charged him – killed him with a brick. That evening the Russians rounded them up, shot 56 of them in the town square, sent the rest of them off to Siberia. We had a new group of stevedores the next morning.” Zook noted, “They were only making 90 cents a day in our money. It was costing some of them 70 cents just to get to work.”

Zook was with a group of cowboys who toured a nearby battlefield. Bodies of German soldiers still lay among the brush, in trenches, and in an armored vehicle.

Seagoing cowboys tour a battlefield near Gdansk, Poland, August 1946. Photo by James Brunk.

Shell casings on the battlefield near Gdansk, Poland, August 1946. Photo by Alvin Zook.

Being a Sunday morning, the group sat down on a bunch of shell casings next to a large gun that had jammed to have a worship service. “A young man from Minot, North Dakota, told the Christmas story, and it was very real to us,” Zook said. “Peace on earth, good will to men.”

Stories from the S.S. Mount Whitney: Ship Breaks Records

Mount Whitney is not only the name of the highest mountain in the United States, it is the name of the largest and fastest of the ships used by UNRRA for transporting livestock in 1946. A C4-S-A4 type ship, she rolled off the line of the Kaiser shipyard in Vancouver, Washington, February 21, 1946, and was converted in Boston for carrying cattle. She made her first voyage as a livestock ship for UNRRA July 28, 1946.

The S.S. Mount Whitney ready to load in Newport News, VA, July 26, 1946. Photo by James Brunk.

According to seagoing cowboy Luke Bomberger, the ship measured 522 feet long and 72 feet across. “This is a pretty wide ship,” he said, “and we therefore had a double row of stalls on each of the port and starboard sides,” instead of the normal row of single stalls on Victory and Liberty ships. The Mount Whitney stalls could accommodate 1500 horses, about double the capacity of the Victory ships and four to five times that of Liberty ships.

The Times-Herald newspaper of Newport News, Virginia, gave considerable attention to this maiden livestock voyage of the Mount Whitney. On July 25, the paper reported the loading of the ship would be delayed for degaussing work, a demagnetizing procedure to help ships be less susceptible to Nazi magnetic mines still floating in the waters. The next day’s paper reported on the loading of a “tremendous amount” of feed:

Fifteen hundred head of horses can’t live as cheaply as one, not by a long sight. . . . Now being taken on at Pier 5 are the following items: 1,200,000 pounds of hay, 89 tons of oats and a large quantity of bran.

Hay being loaded on the S.S. Mount Whitney on a later trip. Photo by Wilbert Zahl.

Bags of oats ready to be loaded on the S.S. Mount Whitney on a later trip. Photo by Wilbert Zahl.

On July 29, the paper reported on the Mount Whitney‘s departure from the Terminal Stockyards at noon the day before:

A quick trip to Poland is in prospect as the Mount Whitney has a top speed of 20 knots. . . .
The ship already has shattered two records – in the amount of livestock taken on board and the number of livestock handlers carried on the trip to care for the animals. Eighty such workers are on the ship, while the average UNRRA craft requires only from 32 to 35.

48 of the 80 seagoing cowboys on the S.S. Mount Whitney, August 1946. Photo courtesy of Levi Miller.

Aside from seasickness and complaints about the food, the 80 seagoing cowboys enjoyed a fairly uneventful trip across the Atlantic. Being a larger vessel, the ship did not take the usual route to Poland through the Kiel Canal. She traveled up around Scotland and Denmark to the Baltic Sea, arriving in Nowy Port, Poland, August 8.

“How changed everything is!” noted cowboy foreman Leonard Vaughn, who had made earlier trips to Poland. “The ruins are being cleared away. There is rebuilding. There aren’t the crowds of dirty children.” Luke Bomberger, having been to Poland in November 1945 and April 1946, made a similar observation. Nevertheless, cowboy crew members had some hair-raising experiences while there.

~to be continued

 

In Memoriam

Bowman, Chester, October 16, 2022, Bridgewater, Virginia. S.S. Humanitas to Italy, October 14, 1948. Heifer Project shipment.

Brightbill, Richard Ray, September 3, 2022, Weston, West Virginia. S.S. Gainesville Victory to Poland, June 4, 1946.

Farringer, L. Dwight, November 7, 2022, North Manchester, Indiana. S.S. Lindenwood Victory to Yugoslavia (docking in Trieste, Italy), August 16, 1946.

Herr, William McDaniel, December 10, 2022, Carbondale, Illinois. S.S. Rafael R. Rivera to Poland, August 26, 1946.

Holdeman, Paul Howard, November 3, 2022, Loveland, Colorado. S.S. Rockland Victory to Poland, November 21, 1945.

Rudy, Carl James, October 4, 2022, Manheim, Pennsylvania. S.S. Attleboro Victory to Greece, December 5, 1946.

Schmidt, Esley Earl, November 30, 2022, Walton, Kansas. S.S. Woodstock Victory to Greece, January 8, 1947.

Warner, Ralph Myers, August 15, 2022, Broadway, Virginia. To Germany, December 7, 1956, ship unknown. Heifer Project shipment.

Weaver, Wayne Adam, December 23, 2022, Elkhart, Indiana. S.S. F. J. Luckenbach to Greece, June 24, 1945 (UNRRA’s first livestock shipment after WWII).

Rest in peace, dear seagoing friends.

 

A Christmastime Seagoing Adventure

An anonymous member of the SS Frederic C Howe seagoing cowboy crew penned this poem about their trip to Trieste, Italy, the end of 1946.

“I’ve sailed the seven seas my lad, I’ve sailed the seven seas,”
the captain very calmly said to Jimmy on his knees.
“Tell me more,” young Jimmy said, “Will you, dad? Please do.
Tell me all about your trips out on the ocean blue.
“Ok, ok,” the cap replied, “I hardly know what’s best,
But I shall tell you some about my last trip to Trieste.”

Loading horses onto the Frederic C Howe in Newport News, Virginia, November 1946. Photo credit: Henry Weaver, Jr.

“We docked along the cattle pier one night at half past nine,
And on rushed the cowboys, a thirty-two man line.
They grabbed and growled, and clawed and fought till each a sack had won.
And acted like a bunch of kids just out to have some fun.
These boys, oh me, they were a mess. I’ve never seen the beat.
My lad, my lad, what boys they were; you should have seen them eat.

Seasick cowboys. Photo credit: Henry Weaver, Jr.

“The first day out they all got sick, at least all but a few.
They didn’t work, they didn’t eat, but oh how they did spew.
No matter when I took a look along the metal rail,
I saw a bunch of cowboys, sick and deathly pale.
A few of them, as I recall, acted like happy boys
And hopped and skipped and jumped around like kids with brand new toys.

On deck of the Frederic C Howe. Photo credit: Henry Weaver, Jr.

“Now when the deck crew put to work, to raise some hay or oats,
I nearly toppled off the bridge to see how young was ‘Boats’.
But as I watched from day to day, their work was very good,
When chow time rolled around at night, they’d earned their daily food.
They very seldom beefed or griped or gave me any sass,
But my, they hated quite a bit to raise a half-dead ass.

“The boys who laboured day and night down in the engine room,
Were still a different bunch from those who manned the boom.
They usually kept her going right, the prop would spin and whirl,
And leave behind us on the blue a foamy, frothy swirl.
But every other day or so along our pleasant hop,
The ship got very tired, and so they’d let her stop.

“One more group I’ll tell you of, they ate in the saloon.
For them the trip across the deep was ended none too soon.
The first mate was a splendid guy, the third was quite a clown,
The second always liked to sleep, but never let me down.
Young Sparks, the vets, and all the rest who had their chow with me
Would whistle loudly every time the purser’s girl they’d see.

Seagoing cowboys on the Frederic C Howe, December 1946. Photo credit: Henry Weaver, Jr.

“Now lad, the trip itself was very fine, especially for one thing.
We missed the holidays at home, the songs by Frank and Bing.
We missed the crowds, the Christmas rush, the trouble and turmoil,
No trees to bother fixing up, no gifts, no wrappers, no foil.
But my we had a lot of fun, we really had a spree,
With songs, poems, and everything, a regular jamboree.”

My thanks to Henry “Hank” Weaver, Jr. for sharing his slides with me!

Wishing all my readers a blessed holiday season ~
Peggy