A FEVER-STRICKEN PORT.

Waikato Times, Volume XXXVIII, Issue 3082, 16 April 1892, Page 1 (Supplement)

A FEVER-STRICKEN PORT.

Somk time ago we had a telegram from Dunedin telling of tho arrival of the barque Akaroa from the port of Santos, in Brazil. Captain Murray gave a terriblo picture of that place where hundreds of sailors are dying every day. Mr Hugh Lyell, of Auckland, tho second mate of tho Alasto, had died from yellow fever. The New York Herald has a description of tho port, from which we take the following :—

The pestilential hole ! the hotbed of yellow fever and snail pox ! Such is a brief description of Santos the little town situated in one of the most mnernirieent harbours in the world. Next Rio Janeiro, in ;its approaches tho 15iv of Pantos is the most picturesque of Brazil's many fine harbours. As you steam iu from the sea the bungalows of the rich coifeo merchants shimmer in the clear tropical sun, and the picturesque peaks of Sierra do Mar rise in the mornin? rr ist. It is hard to realise that disease, sickness, and death are perenuial visitors l lero —that they never say farewell to beautiful Santos.

As the perfume of wild swamp flowers is the sweetest, however, so is the soil of the fever ridden Santas tlie richest ; and thus it is that the bones of many brave sailors are now whitening on the sandy shores of the Barra. Now you have the bar where the whitecrested breakers roar and tho sapphire sea changes its colour to slimy, blaokish green—an offensive sickening ntench reaches your nostrils, 'lhe tide is low, and on'the starboard and port acres of bluo mud are baking in a meridian sun. Lean over tho side and dip a glassful of water from tho inner harbour. A microscope will not be needed to show you millions of living germs, a cross between the animal and vegetable kingdom. Circling round your head are a score or more vultures—birds of ill omen— flapping their wings almost in your face. They have left a fostering carcase 011 tlio beach to piolc out some new victim on the incoming ship. These are tho scavengers of Santos, who in their own peculiar way are not unimportant factors in tho cleansing of the city. Do you wonder now that it a snip leaves Santos with one third of her original crew she is to bo congratulated. ° And yet though Santos, from tho low marshes surrounding it, might never become a perfectly healthy city, if proper sanitary rules were observed the death rate might be greatly decreased. Rio Janeiro was once almost as sickly as Sautoa, but a perfect system of drainage has done much to improve fevers of all types. To the uncleanly habits of the lower classes is due much of the sickness that ravages sailors and landsmen alike. The dark handsome fellow that you seo standing on the wharf as you approach the city is a Maraoluco —as Brazilians call a cross between the Indian and AngloSaxon . He is not a particularly brave individual though there may bo sonic of the Latin fire in his blood. Beside him, is a licit, flashily dressed Indian woman. She is dark, 110't copper coloured, like the Northern tribes, has a reddish tinge m her rich brown cheek. Her crimson slurt is gathered in picturesque folds about her waist, and her white chemise falls negligently from one shoulder. These arc typical inhabitants or oiintos for the coffee merchants all live in handsome estates up in the interior or in bungalows 011 the beach. ! However cleanly in person the native mi"ht be, his house and backyard are receptacles for garbage and filth of every kin' 1 How it is possible for them to live within range of the stench that is wnfted to their homes by the trade winds is a mystery which has never been

As you walk along the dark foul streets after nightfall a warning cry reaches you from above. By dint of practise you may be successful in dodging the #lops that would otherwise have been poured over your head. These sink into the soft oarth which becomes moist at nights from the heavy dews. In the morning the heat increases rapidly, steam arises from tho ground and tho odours are almost unbearable. , n 111 Sometimes in the afternoon a lew black clouds appear to the east waivl, tho temperature is rapidly lowered, the ram pours down in trrcat masses. The streets are flooded, and the torrent wash; s away filth and decayed matter. This is all that serves tho few people that are left in the city. Their gam however is the sailor's loss, for everything is emptied into the stagnant harbour. In a few miuutes the sun is out again, the ground once more hjiked and the inner harbour heated to blood temPe Now e comes the sailor's turn, _ for fresh from a colder climate unaeclimati«e<i, he is an easy prey to yellow fever >jnd small nor Most of 'he large vessels unload at the railroad wharf, at which point almost all the drainage of tliu port empties. Some of the vessel* draw too much water, and are therefore unloaded by means' of scows. At low tide they quietly rest ill soft mud. In addition to this they are now building a stone quay, and dredges are constantly upturning the poi-onous mud that is supposed to contain the fever germs, [s it a wonder, then that sometimes entire crews are stricken down ? The present sickness of Santos has added another trouble, that of stopping the means of transportation. Many vessels bringing merchandise to exchange for coffee are forced to wait weeks sometimes months before they can be discharged and loaded again. It is even said that there are now over one hundred vessels lying in the harbour of Santos awaiting their turns for dock room. So clogged have the wheols of commerce become that many captains leave their ships and return to England or America until their ships are discharged and ready for sea again. Others remove their entire ship's crew into the interior, while the company's agent leases houses for them. Unless something of the kind is done no captain can expect to return home with the same clew.