Friday. June 30th At Sea!
Headwinds, dense fog and rain and cold. About the latitude of Halifax. While at dinner there was a fearful cry and rushing of the steerage passengers, then all the cabiners tore out after the Captain to the waist with the conviction that an iceberg was upon us. The scene was really distressing. Clara was yelling “help” and crying in the most wretched tone of voice. Mrs her mother was wringing her hands, Mrs Robertson was imploring her husband to take care of her, to which he responded with his usual grace, not to “make a fool of herself”. The young men rushed out and Mr Lee & Mr Townsend went to the wheel. The rest were pale and quiet. One of the steerage was shrieking “hard up” to the man at the wheel while Mr Adams tried to outshriek him in a contrary order. Mama, Grace & I sat still at the table, Mama eating corn and Grace holding my hand. All this was over in a second – and then we saw we had just escaped running in to a fishing vessel anchored in our course. We were going at a flying rate and were just taking a long breath from our alarm when we came on another and another until we had passed a fleet of French fishing vessels. It was very exciting to see them appear first on one hand and then the other out of the fog.