Some of these steamers make the east coast of Africa for cargoes; some go to Australia; some to the Spice Islands, Java and the Philippines; some go no farther than India; and, finally, some reach Japan, Corea, and Vladivostock.
Entrance to the Suez Canal at Port Said.
Port Said, the product of the canal, is built on the flat sands at the entrance of the Suez Canal. Its harbor, formed by two long breakwaters, contains one of the largest coaling depots in the world, where vessels are supplied at the rate of 200 tons an hour. The place is noted for its wickedness; it abounds in French cafés and dance-halls where wine, women, and music continue the night long. The traveller should purchase a white helmet at Port Said; these hats are cheap, and add considerably to personal comfort.
The steam traffic of the place is enormous; last year 3,389 vessels traversed the canal. The average time of transit by day is 24 hours; by night with electric lights it is 19 hours, and has been done in 15 hours. In order to navigate by night, a vessel must light the way by carrying an electric projector at her bow as close to the water as possible, and pay the closest attention to the orders from the passing stations or gares. Three white lights shown vertically indicate “slow down;” then the display of two white lights is the order to stop and haul in to the gare. The steamer presently hauls in, makes fast, puts out all lights, and lies snug in her berth alongside the desert, while the oncoming vessel, looking like a locomotive at night, passes by. One white light from the gare and lines are let go, and the journey continued until Suez is reached.
Suez is an uninteresting collection of shipping-houses and squalid native huts, with a few tumble-down mosques. Donkeys and donkey-boys swarm along the docks, and if the vessel stop an hour or two the novelty of such a ride may be enjoyed. The heat of the day is intense, but the nights, especially in the canal, have a “soft, warm witchery” about them that is delicious.
After leaving Suez the way lies through the Gulf of the same name, into the Red Sea, where the water is blue, the background light brown, the hazy atmosphere pink, and the temperature red-hot. Vessels spread double awnings and hang up side curtains, but there is no escaping the intolerable heat experienced day and night going down this sea with the wind aft. Far away to the left, in the dim distance, is the fast-receding brown peak of Mount Sinai; other well-remembered biblical places stretch along the indistinct coast line; the ship speeds southward; the constellations in the blue heavens of night begin to change; the Straits of Bab-el-Mandeb are passed; and as the four points of the Southern Cross arise bright and sparkling, the anchor is let go off Aden, in Arabia.
Aden, on its rocky and bare volcanic peninsula, is the Gibraltar of the Red Sea. It interests the traveller because of the big black Somalis, the oily, avaricious Jews, and the thin, ungainly camels moving up and down the streets. The town is too hot for enjoyment; it is better to stay on board ship, buy an imitation ostrich feather from a cheating Jew, and throw coppers into the water for little shave-headed naked negro boys to dive after.
