“That must have been a sight—to watch them throw half a million bananas overboard,” said Willie. “How do they handle bananas, anyway? They can’t handle them as they do bales and boxes.”
“Would you like to see them unloading a banana boat?” asked the purser.
“I sure would.”
“Well, there’s evidently a boat unloading now, or these wagon loads of fresh fruit would not be passing. The fruit pier is near at hand and we’ll drop in and watch them unload, while we are waiting to get our dinner.”
“Thank you,” said Willie. “That will be bully!”
Presently they came to a banana pier. Empty wagons were streaming into it and trucks laden with green bananas were issuing from it. The visitors entered the pier and walked along it until they came to where the unloading was in progress. Then, standing to one side, out of the way, they watched the process.
The empty wagons formed a line on the far side of the pier. On the near side of the pier, beside the steamer, several wagons were being loaded. The banana handlers were apparently mostly foreigners. They had neither trucks nor baskets, however, but carried the great bunches of bananas in their arms as carefully as they might convey so many infants. Down one side of the gangplank walked a line of empty-handed carriers, while up the other side came the men bearing the big bunches of fruit. They moved in a steady stream—into the ship and out, into the ship and out; and one man walked close on another’s heels. The bananas were passed by the carriers to waiting hands in the trucks, and the great bunches were piled carefully and skilfully, sometimes with layers of salt hay between to save them from being bruised in the trucks.
As fast as a wagon was loaded, the driver drove away, and a wagon from the waiting line turned and pulled into its place. Thus the fruit moved in a ceaseless stream from vessel to wagon, and from pier shed to store or freight-house. For many of these bananas would be sent inland by train, to supply folks in interior towns.
The steady movement of fruit fascinated Willie. It made him think of the constant flow of a stream of water. For a long time he watched in silence. Then the purser caught his eye.
“What do you think of it?” he asked.