Written by K. A. Järvi
Shadows darkened into
the darkness and the days voices quieted a little at a time. Even there in the
straits, in the citys outer port, it was now quiet and still, compared to the
days noises, where the steam vessels whistled, the porters loudly clanged the
luggage and the sawmills saws had their own peculiar, dry sound.
The levers of the machinery on the tar boiler hang
still and barrels, while rolling have splashed their tar, which during the day
was soft, boiled in the hot June sun and which had stuck to everything that it
touched, now had solidified and hardened. Still, it gave its own fresh
smell.
The tar man, who had during the night, brought his
tar down the last rapids, could not get it delivered in time, but had to leave
his loaded riverboat at the pier, waiting for the rise of day.
The channel quickly but peacefully flows to the sea
unaware now of steam vessels or the wave tops breaking on the silly looking
cargo vessel. There was no sound or sight of men working, but northern Finlands
main citys outer harbor was silent and as if sleeping.
Some Danish schooner and Norwegian brig lay tied
beside the pier. Even they were calmed and the clothing washed by the sailors in
the evening, hung still on the ships ropes, where they had been placed to dry.
Due to the emptying of the sand freight from foreign countries the ship was
beside the pier and there was still half of the cargo (sand) left after the
days work. The ships passengers and crew slept in their cabins and all doors
and openings were tightly shut. On one ships deck, lingered only a watchman, a
weathered Scandinavian and narrow smoke billows from a slim whitish smoke stack.
Even the streamers on the rear mast did not move.
Lower, was another steam boat, which in the early
evening had arrived from its travels from St. Petersburg and south Finland. It
gently released its last steam and in doing so, made a nice racket.
The sun had not yet quite disappeared, but spread a
bloody color on Pateniemis saw and its nearby dark forest. The cheery, lighted
summer night of northern Finland was about to begin and its quiet peace fell on
all of nature, which slept with its eyes open. The dim and the dark did not
come, instead it spread a twilight whenever the sun peaked through the clouds in
the summer-like landscape.
But all did not sleep this night. There, at the
beginning of the channel, pushed the "Norra Finland", fully loaded, with its
tremendous power and the engine running, squirted water from small holes from
both sides. The propeller once in a while sounded angry turns and a dense smoke
billow (monument) fell from the stack with light steam. The holds were still
loaded with cargo and in that process the winch squeaked without a
tune.
Every now and then a bare headed pale buffet table
waitress, or some other female server, carried a full load of glasses to the
rear salon, where several gentlemen, travelers and city folk were sitting. More
people were on the piers during the ships departure, than on the ship. Young and
happy people they were and more came on the crowded streets from the city. They
could no longer get on the small steam vessels, those that had overnighted on
the citys shores. Instead they came by boats, girls and boys, playing tunes on
their accordions. Those, who had to wake up early, now sacrificed the best part
of the short night, as they had to be there to see the departure of the "Norra
Finland", which again took a large migrating group to the other side of the
Atlantic. And all were dressed in their Sunday-best to honor this solemn last
moment of those departing their land of birth.
The air in the steerage deck, where emigrants were
supposed to stay, was heavy and damp, as the engine room would blow a hot, oily
breath. There on benches was their place, where they spread their wool clothing
and travelling gear. But the area was still empty of people. There was only an
aged rural woman in cotton and dark streaked scarf and short ankled banded
shoes, under which, showed thick home knitted gray wool socks. Some middle aged
woman with a small child, also slept her first night on the iron ship. A couple
of intoxicated rural men with their bottles made a racket, trying to assure each
other how good life is in America.
Outside, the young frolicked. Soon started the
dancing in a ring or to polka tunes of the accordion with the emigrants for the
last time on the mainland of Finland. There danced a weathered sailor, broad
breasted, in a sweater and tasseled hat with a reddish country girl, and a city
laborer kicked his skinny legs with some seamstress. Their movements were quick
and fluent, as a country boy, who in a new suit, watch chain showing, and a
stylish felt hat on his head showed off with the others. He had sampled a bit of
the spirits, which had warmed his blood and his mind proud, that to America,
this boy is going. He often extended his hands briskly while dancing.
While the dancing briefly paused, the young started
to walk slowly in small groups in the area. There the engaged couples moved in
pairs and hand-in-hand, discussed their departure, which had been forgotten a
little during the dancing; there friends talked apparently in more serious way
than usually. The longing for those who stay and the homeland started gnawing in
the heart, some discussed it between themselves, with tears in their
eyes.
The sadness did not bother the young city folk, those
who had come here only to celebrate, their cheerfulness even diminished it among
the departing. Soon some youngster started playing the accordion and then again
many pairs started dancing under the loading deck, where it was fun to dance the
polka. But the closer the departure came, the fewer dancers there were and
finally only the city folk danced alone, those who remained here in old Finland.
Others joined with their friends and familiar people talked before the
Atlantics voice disrupted it.
What was it, that attached those middle aged,
crouched rural men to Finland, those who preoccupied, sat dazzled on their
flashy travelling chests or occasionally exchanged words among themselves. The
departure made men contemplate.
- Perhaps it would have been best to stay in Finland,
think some, who start
to regret their departure
- I dont know, even if it was, but they only write
about good there,
answers another loosely and slightly
sighing.
- But go we must, as the house is sold and everything
is ready for the move.
- I am not leaving for good, when I have earned the
money I will return here
again, thinks another and his eyes are glossy, hoping
for a good forthcoming
sign.
- What can I accomplish here anymore, when everyone
is poised to rob the son
of a farmer, all the civil servants and other small
gentlemen.
- Thats how it is. Here it is quite a difficult time
and since they write
about such good
Short and dry was the conversation. No longer was
anyone interested in explaining to others, the good side of America, as before,
no, we now almost started to doubt it ourselves, when the departure was ahead of
us. Still only a few days ago was America in their minds, such a desirable land,
that they had to even encourage all their neighbors to go there. But now is
otherwise. Why, oh why did I leave, the question is on their lips, but not
freely or audibly.
Now the ship whistles for the first time and the
older, more steady folk begin to settle in the ship. Life in the middle deck
becomes more vivid and changeable. Some single farm hand, who is unaccompanied,
fits himself carelessly to lay down on a bench, where one would think he is
hoping to bury all the departure regrets. His life has never been without hard
and bleak toil for the daily bread and thats why even his heart has hardened so
that he can indifferently, in his sleep, dismiss the land of his birth. There, a
middle aged woman, whose husband is already in America, settles herself on the
bench. The juice of life has been squeezed out of her dry face and her eyes are
bloodshot. Here a young wife breastfeeds her child, already domiciled in the
iron ship. The plumpness is missing from her face and the angularity already
fully developed. Beside her stands the father in an attractive intoxication
sucking on a pug nosed pipe and staring occasionally at the
emigrants.
The young still move about the piers. The dancing has
now completely ceased, as now the homelands fun has been had and close friends
gathered together. Robust young men were walking restlessly beside the ship and
he, who had a girl friend, talked with her. Most were the sons of farm owners,
and for no reason they moved from their home land, as their minds had been
fascinated by those tempting letters, which were exchanged before
departure.
A city gentleman, whose business had not fared too
well here in the homeland, said his farewells to his family. As soon as he
could, he would send a ticket to his family staying here so that they may get
over the ocean. His wifes eyes were teary and even now, she touched them with
her handkerchief. The man tried to be more careless encouraging others falsely.
But absent mindedly he placed his hand in his pocket touching "Emigrants
Interpreter", the booklet which would be his first security in the new world and
from where he had, for the days of a month, rigidly learned English. Then he
boarded the ship and his wife and children followed to see what type of
accommodation, the father received on the ship. A gentle pharmacist graduate,
who also started for America, absent mindedly looked around emptily and did not
speak much to the procession of people, even though everyone around him appeared
to be generous to serve him. He occasionally eyed a bunch of fresh flowers and
then to a blooming girl, who stood close by. There another graduate was with the
departing, but he was embarrassed about his leaving and soon withdrew to the
salon.
The sun had now completely set and nature was now
cold and tasteless. The air was filled with the night dew and water drops on the
freshly painted handrails were half solidified together in full droplets. The
steamship breathed warm steam around, which felt comforting while standing
during the departure, more than the chill from the container stiffened the limbs
standing in one spot. The engine sprayed still more water out and the smoke
billowed more heavy from the smoke stack. The ship whistled and for the second
time, longer than the first.
People there on the pier had stiffened, waiting for
the departure. Hour by hour they stood more closely together on one spot, even
though they were cold. The moment of departure was approaching, and after the
second whistle, the majority of the departing moved to the ship. The time
between two last whistles was the time for final farewells. Many shook hands
with friends for longer than usually, and more sensitive were looking for
security in a handkerchief. Then the majority moved to the ship and climbed to
the upper deck waiting for the departure.
At the same time nature opened clear, the transparent
brilliance and the days first light glimpsed twilight on the surface and the
outer end of the channel to the sea. That light brightened, spread and warmly
took the chill from the cheeks. It brightened the land and waters and played on
the steamships shining metal. A small ripple started on the surface of the
channel from the seaside, it increased and soon rose to full waves. At the
rising of the sun, came the wind and the sea started in the morning air. Birds
had not yet arisen, and for that reason, predominated that northern Finlands
early summer morning incomplete life, where is ones own, still tone.
The ship whistled for the third time, long and sharp.
The bridge to the pier was removed and started to remove the ropes from the bow
side, so that the bow turned to the middle of the current. And so it moved
slowly but surely. Even though the waves splashed on the seaside, and the engine
did not run at all, they could not move the ship, as the current pushed the bow
down. When it was more than half turned, the stern lines were freed and the ship
was free of the pier. The engine started slowly and with it, the
ship.
The ships upper deck was full of people waving their
handkerchiefs or otherwise giving farewell signs. The people left on shore,
shook their handkerchiefs or hats.
The engine started working harder and the sturdy ship
moved forward. Sunshine played on the rear reflector and gilded pretty initials
there. Handkerchiefs were waved for a long time. For so long as people knew
their own were on the ship, which now cut the first wave of the sea. There it
mixed for a while in the shelter of other ships, which rested at anchor, but
soon it was alone in the line of sight, in a wavy sea, where in the distance,
loomed the first beacon.
There again dwindled another healthy drop of blood
from the body of Finnish people, to the foreign lands and strange bodies. Can it
strengthen up there and deliver its labors as here in Finland? Was the surplus
of the heart responsible for that occasional bloodshed or is it just a sign of
weakness?
TO THE EMIGRANT
Why bother to live here
this toilsome life of the
poor,
when you can speed past the
seas,
start another life in the land of
luck.
Remove the dust from the land of the poor
from your feet!
So urges the shifting mind but leaves
unspoken,
that often back there only dreary weather
welcomes you;
but who would like to speak about
that?
If, you Finn, hear that
voice,
restrain yourself! Many
ships
were taken to the
unknown
by the winds of the
world.
But if you have to leave, for the
good
of your family and
children,
to the strange countries where you
think
you will succeed, then live for
Finland!
Niilo E. Wainio
Published in a Finnish calendar in 1895.
_________________________________________________________________________
