SIX WEEKS OUT, THE LADY JANE GOT CAUGHT IN A TERRIBLE STORM and was tossed like a log in the towering Atlantic waves. The wind roared like a banshee, and thunder and lightning flashed above them. Sea water poured over the deck and in on the passengers, flooding the low steerage hold. For once, Mary pitied the crew.
‘Hold on to the bunks!’ John ordered the terrified children, using his belt to tie Tim and Annie to the upper one.
All around them people prayed that they would not drown.
As the ship gave a huge creaking lurch, Sarah was flung on to the soaked floor, howling in pain as Mary and John pulled her back up, for her arm was badly hurt. One man smashed the bones in his leg and a woman had her eyes blackened and nose broken as she was thrown against a wooden beam. Everyone was terrified, for they did not know how much more the ship could take. Some resorted to prayers while others sat in silence, watching the water rise, terrified they would drown.
There were tears of relief when the gales and waves finally abated, although there were bruises and cuts aplenty among the passengers. Despite the severity of the storm, Mr Dwyer reassured them that the ship was undamaged and he gave the orders for the water below to be bailed out as the Lady Jane sailed on across the tall, churning waves.
Six, seven weeks, all the days ran together. The family’s supply of oatcakes was long gone and the food they received was not fit for a dog. However, they had no choice but to eat the meagre rations and the little water that was allowed. Bored, some passengers played cards, listened to the fiddle, or told stories of their townland to pass the hours on the seemingly endless voyage.
Suddenly there was a change at sea and the sailors gave orders to clean up the bunks and the steerage deck. All the filth, the stinking mouldy mattresses, the straw and the blankets were jettisoned to the churning depths of the Atlantic Ocean. The deck was washed with lime and new bedding straw appeared. The over hatch was left open and fresh air finally filled the fetid, squalid darkness.
‘We have entered American waters,’ declared Johnny Meagher. ‘I tell you, soon we will be landed.’
The excitement was contagious as the passengers roused themselves from the terrible inertia and despondency that had hung over them for the past seven long weeks. Faces were scrubbed and children wailed in protest as mothers combed and tried to clean their hair.
‘America! We are nearly there,’ John told his family proudly.
However, their hopes of landing any time soon were halted as the captain announced that an inspector was due to board the ship shortly.
‘Those who are deemed ill or display any symptoms of fever will be removed from this ship immediately to a nearby quarantine facility for medical care. By law, they must remain there until they have recovered sufficiently.’
Consternation spread among the passengers, for many among them were unwell and incredibly weak.
Mary looked at Annie, who resembled a ghost child. She had kept down little food during the journey and deep circles shadowed her eyes. Her lips were parched and flaking, and she sported a dark bruise on her leg where one night the previous week she had hit it on the bunk.
What would they do if she was removed to this quarantine place? They had all heard terrible tales of what happened to the patients of such hospitals where fever, as in the workhouse, spread quickly. They knew stories of families who had endured the long ocean crossing, only to succumb when they landed there.
‘Mammy, what is happening?’ Annie asked, fearful.
‘It is all right, pet. No need to worry,’ she reassured her little daughter. ‘The captain said our journey is nearly over. Sit up and let me plait your hair.’