Seafaring Women

Sun (Auckland), Volume 1, Issue 101, 20 July 1927, Page 5

Seafaring Women

Romances and Realities of a Stewardess’s Life

The life of a stewardess on board an ocean liner seems to be regarded in widely differing ways by people who have never tried it. Some romantic souls think that it is a sort of free Cook’s tour of the world, and imagine the stewardess as spending much of her time riding in rickshaws through the marvellous cities of the East, with a mixed background of palm trees, temples and pagodas. And, on the other hand, there are people who think of her as spending her whole time in running round with basins for seasick passengers. In fact, there is not very much seasickness during the five weeks’ voyage to China. Most people make it a point of honour to stay in bed in the Bay of Biscay, however calm the weather, but the majority find their sea legs very quickly when deck games begin in earnest, and nothing short of a monsoon will lay them low again. HONG-KONG AT DAWN But though her job is in many ways not an unpleasant one, there is mighty little romance in the life of a stewardess. Ports mean to her, as a rule, long, ugly wharves, with a row of red corrugated iron godowns in the background, shouting coolies loading cargo or carrying huge baskets of coal, and a general atmosphere of noise, dirt, coal dust, and the indescribable smell that comes from the little stalls where the coolies buy their food. There are some ports that live in the memory. Who can forget Hongkong at dawn, and the mist-covered hills that crowd round the harbour, or Hong-Kong at night, and the galaxy of lights that climb the Peak? But most docks are in the least attractive parts of the towns, and the stewardess has seldom either time or inclination to explore further, when she has many passengers to look after, and the ship is probably only in port for one night. MORNING TEA Her day usually begins at half-past five, as many people, especially if they have children, like their morning tea

at six or a little later. Morning teas generally keep her busy until breakfast time, and after breakfast there are the beds to make and the cabins to get ready for the captain’s inspection at 11 o’clock. Each stewardess is allotted one section of the ship—about 24 cabins. She only looks after ladies travelling alone, so that she may be responsible for only two or three cabins on one trip, and the next may find her section full of ladies. Though the heaviest work is done before 11 o’clock, her day is not really over until 10 p.m., but she is definitely off duty between 2 and 4 p.m., and does, in fact, get a good deal of leisure time in between jobs, unless she has a very full section, or very exacting passengers. SPOILT CHILDREN

In addition to being responsible for the cleanliness of the cabins, she has to take up all meals to passengers who are ill in bed and look after them generally. She also usually has children to take care of during the saloon mealtimes, in port, if their parents are ashore, and on special concert and dance nights. And children coming from the East have very often been thoroughly spoilt by devoted amahs or ayahs and are by no means easy to manage. A good many of the grownup people, too, have been spoilt by having too many native servants, and are so helpless that they cannot sew on a button or press a dress for themselves.

The successful stewardess needs the constitution of a horse, combined with the tact of an ambassador. She must always appear good-tempered, serene and unruffled, though the thermometer may stand at 120 degrees, or the cabin trunks may all be sliding about in a monsoon. The fact that so many stewardesses go on long after the routine work has grown monotonous to them, can only be explained by the mysterious lure of the sea. Just as sailors grumble, and yet rarely settle down on land until they ai'e old men, so stewardesses talk of their dislike of sea life—and yet cannot leave it.