LIFE AS A STEWARDESS

Evening Star, Issue 21742, 9 June 1934, Page 20

LIFE AS A STEWARDESS

TALES OUT OF SCHOOL Tlie writer of the following article in the Brisbane ‘ Courier-Mail,’ is a young English girl, who signed on as a stewardess for the round trip, Eng-land-Australia, in order to earn a little much-needed pocket money. She gained her object—and some amusing experiences into the bargain. When I signed on as a stewardess it did not take long to discover that life at sea is ruled by a rigid code of “ what you may not do”; and of finding the best way of doing it without being found out by the chief steward. This functionary was generally (but by no means affectionately) known _ as “ Uncle Joe,” and was the most inhuman man I have ever met. We were always on the look-out for him, and his appearance was usually heralded by some steward or other member of the crew, who would pass by with' the whispering warning “ The Chief I ” But in spite of this we were sometimes caugnt, and summoned to the “ office ” to explain our conduct. I was “ carpeted ” several times for such ridiculously trivial offences that I plucked up my courage to reason with the Chief; but the only reply to these attempts I ever received was “Get out!” At Sydney, a message reached me from him: “In case Stewardess doesn’t know no leaning over the rail when the ship sails! ” Now, to a newcomer from England an Australian send-off was a wonderful sight, with its flowers and streamers and waving crowds; and I had not the slightest intention of missing it whatever “ Uncle ” might say. So in spite of his threats I managed to take a whole roll of Kodak film over the side when he was out of the way! Several of iis asked at Colombo for leave to go ashore, as there was no work to keep us on the ship. His reply was: “ You won’t go ashore till you get (jack to Tilbury.” However, we often managed to slip ashore without being caught, for a ship is too big to be policed by one man; and when we did, of course, we enjoyed it all the more. The climax came at Colombo, homeward bound, when we were so anxious to see something of the wonders of the East that we determined to try once more to get shore leave. Several other stewardesses and myself waited humbly outside the office until “ Uncle Joe ” stalked out; but, without giving us a chance to speak, he dismissed us with a curt “No leave! ” I was so determined to fight for my only chance of seeing Colombo that I went to the purser, who listened sympathetically, and arranged that the chief steward should at least give us an interview. We were duly received by Uncle Joe, who told us with a great deal of unnecessary rudeness, that if we wanted to go ashore because we had nothing to do, he could find us plenty of sewing to occupy us. - I had my revenge a few days later through one of the children in the nursery, who had an odd habit of biting!—her best _ efforts being directed against officers jn uni-, form, whom she addressed indiscriminately as “ Captain.” So, one day, when “ Uncle ” was doing his rounds, I whispered to her: “Look, darling, tllere’s the captain.” It worked like a charm! She dashed after him at top speed, and bit him fiercely in the back or his pants I ■ I shared a cabin with three other girls, who had a wonderful flow of language and the loudest laughs I ever heard. From time to time they wore given various articles of clothing by the women passengers; and ono_ of them who had been given a particularly beautiful nightdress, never wore it, hut kept it well spread out on her hunk all day for the benefit of any stewards, sailors, quarter-masters, _ or others of her acquaintance who. might drop in to see her. Actually she used to sleep in the same vest she had worn all day! She was “engaged,” and used to show us a gorgeous “ Crystal Palacy ’’ ring; but that didn’t preyent her from being extremely matey with one of the passengers—to say nothing of the varied acquaintance aforesaid. We had Christmas Day on board; and it was celebrated for the stewards by permission to sit down while they ate their dinner-—for the only time on the trip. Ordinarily they had their food standing; but luckily this rule did not apply to us. We had a small messroom of our own. We had our Christmas dinner at night, when the purser “stood” ,us a drink all round. The messroom was decorated —mistletoe being the chief “ motif ”; and when we had all assembled the purser and Uncle Joe and the other “ beads ” of our department came round in procession, kissing us all in turn ! Then the stewards waiting on us kissed us, the butcher, the baker, the candlestick maker—and any one else who happened to pass the messrOom door. It was a perfect orgy of kisses! One of the worst deficiencies of the menu in our mess was a complete lack of fresh fruit, and we adopted all sorts of means to get it. (For is not fruit absolutely necessary to health?) We stewardesses would order it every morning for all our passengers, whether they had asked for it or not; and that left by those that didn’t want it, was ours! (though at the penalty of dismissal if wo were caught). There were many nice women passengers who gave us fruit; one mother always left an orange for me every morning in her baby’s pram, so that I could slip it into my apron pocket when no one was looking. We used to get ice creams by devious ways, too. All that was necessary was to go to the pantry and order one “ for a lady having her dinner in her cabin.” When we were in port in Australia we were ordered to a ft sewing class held every day on deck! The hours were 9-12.30 and 2 to 4. But I must admit that so long as no one was looking the work could hardly he called strenuous. The annoying thing was having so little time we could call cur own. °We worked for thirteen hours a day on seven days a week; so we really felt justified in slacking a little when it was merely a matter of sewing tapes on pillow cases “ to keep us occupied.”

The trip was certainly an interesting experience; but 1 as a cheap means of “ seeing the world ” a stewardess’s job is not much to bep recommended; for I expect our “ Uncle Joe ” is pretty typical of petty tyrants in the same position in most passenger ships. I left the ship with few regrets—and its chief steward with none whatever.