Northbound 27 September 1948


Hello Darling,

By the time you receive this, I suppose I shall already have been “home” and gone again. It takes longer, usually, for mail to reach New York from Trinidad, then it takes the “Brazil” to get there.

What a case of “channel fever”, I have this trip.  It seems as though each voyage is worse than the preceding one.  Every click of the compass, as it follows the ship’s yawl back and forth to the rocking rhythm of a quarter sea, seems to say:  7 more days, 6 more days, 5 more days.

As I pace back and forth, back and forth, becoming so impatient to be in your arms that the delay seems almost unsurpassable.

So I pace back and forth and examine, once more, the unbroken line 360″ line between sky and water, and make another firm resolution with myself to stop wasting my life away at sea. ( to be cont’d after I go up on the bridge for 4 more hours of pacing )

Darling, a group of Argentine Exchange Students came up on the bridge today to take pictures of the mates getting a noon position.  It’s a wonder we even got a position, every time we’d turn around we would nearly stumble over two or three getting candid shots.  Anyway, one of them took one of me when I was getting my sight so I’ll send it along for laughs.  I’m not really as fat as I look in the picture.  ( must be poor exposure or something! )

My precious, it’s simply no use!  I can’t write anymore.  I’m too close to home and I keep drifting off into dreams of you.  Oh Betty!  My sweet darling Betty, I love you so much!

214 more breakfasts alone!  Then we shall each find contentment, peace, and happiness together in this fear torn world, in a fast disappearing haven called family life.

Your are my heart!  Beat strongly for me, I love you with my life!

Yours Forever,



William Sloane House Y.M.C.A. July 15, 1947

july 15

Thursday 3am

Hello Darling,

Things are rather quiet on board tonight, so I shall make use of the opportunity to write to you.

You know Sweet, it’s usually rather late at night and I’m terribly tired when I write to you. Not so tired that I don’t think of you much more than I’d care to have you know at present, but just tired enough so that some of my “billets doux” might sound absurd to you.

Darn it, no letter from you today. By the way, have I thanked you for your kindness you have shown me in writing so often? Thanks!

My ship hasn’t arrived in port as yet and I have heard that the one I’m working on may be sold to Argentina. If so, I’ll probably get paid off and have a chance to see you soon.

You know, this may sound rather strange to you, because you are unable to experience the emotions coursing through me, but I’m very glad that you loaned me that $10.00. I don’t quite know why I’m glad about it, I should only be grateful. But, it makes me feel god inside, as though you were really pulling for me or something. I’d best change the subject!

I saw the Italian movie version of “Rigoletto” this afternoon. Stole some time away from Morpheus to do it and I’m not sorry. It was grand!


I never saw a city in my life where money meant so little. I was down to my last dollar a few days ago, and managed to talk the hotel manager into giving me a weeks credit on my room, provided I gave him one suitcase as security. Then, I slept all day and everyday to save money on food. I’d have a cup of coffee when I got up, and then off to work, where I’d scare up a meal out of the ice box and in the crew’s galley. There isn’t much food on board though because, at present there isn’t any crew.

Yesterday, I saw the port captain (for the whole company) and he apologized for keeping me waiting for a ship. He said I had a good war record and that a lot of sea experience and he thought I deserved a good ship, so he was waiting to give me the right one. Then he advanced me enough money on my salary for eating expenses and room rent, and to get my suitcase out of storage.

Strangely enough Darling, I looked forward to having to “live on a shoestring” my first week or so in NYC. It’s part of a man’s education. A man really shouldn’t call himself such unless he has gone without for a while at least. Life assumes entirely new proportions, even though, as in my case, it’s only for a few days.

One thing has been increasing tremendously in value with each day that passes, so much so that, EVEN, were it obtainable by money, there wouldn’t be enough to purchase it anywhere. Yes, my love for you.
If only it were in my power to convince you, to make you, to make you fully cognizant of the depth of my emotion for you.

Enough of that! It doesn’t look good on paper at this hour of the morning, and I had made up my mind not to refer to it too often while apart from you.

I can convince you much more lastingly my love when I have you in my arms and am basking in the reflection of the sparkle of your sweet smile.

Goodnight my love,