The Harvard African Expedition Book 1: July 7, 1926
Creator
Loring WhitmanDate
7/7/26Transcription
Wed – July 7th – Today we have disembarked and are now settled on shore – in Monrovia, Liberia, West Africa. At about 1000 AM. the engines finally came to a stop and we dropped anchor off the town; The end of a long journey from America. Immediately large surf boats – manned by 10 or more lusty oars-men and others came along to th sides ready to unload our large assortment of baggage and the eleven weary travelers who had at last arrived. And never have I heard a more voluble crew in all my life. It was quite exciting and extremely nerve racking to see them lower our supplies into the little boats about 30 ft long which were bobbing up and down in the swell- and as each load was swung over the side there arose a chorus of chattering, shouting- orders and replies as the boats rose and fell, bumped and separated along side. At times it looked as if a whole load was going to be dropped into the water but there was always some providential guidance which slid a boat under it before it disappeared with a gurgle beneath the seas.
And all over the boat was confusion & bustle. A large proportion of the white population of Monrovia had come out to look us over, some looking for friends, some looking for good beer & a haircut. We met Wolo – we find that he is not a chief of an island tribe – Johnson – one of fir Firestones men who has lived on the coast for 17 yrs. – Dr Willis – with whom we are staying – and several young engineers. We tipped stewards and paid bills – we showed passports – and then we sat around & talked till lunch time.
And then we said good bye to the Captain and passengers aboard the Wadai. We walked down to the gang plank to step into one of the surf boats – some 14 or 15 whites, a dozen oarsmen and a few odds & ends of others. And then we headed for the bar, at first being towed by the ships launch. Oars were produced, however, just before we got to the breakers and we were soon cruising thru them to the sing – song grunts of the Kru boys as they pulled along. But the sea was very quiet and and the bar not even exciting – a quiet paddle thru small rollers. The boys – each one to each long sweep now bent to their task in earnest, pulling the big boat along with surprising speed, while all the remaining blacks talked volubly to themselves and or anybody that happened to be near. Chung-chug chung (a single mans high voice) – chug (in chorus by the rest).
At last we passed the bar sand spit where two natives were casting out nets, up the short stretch of river to the docks and custom houses. Here there was a perfect mob of voluble natives all trying to do something for money. And scattered over everything was our mountainous luggage piled helter skelter, and all mixed up. We started to get it straight – tin trunks and all personal baggage was yanked out & placed in piles according to name, guns were locked up for safe keeping until we can get a permit to take them out. They say here that unless we are lucky we may not get them for 6 or 8 months as the Liberians are a bit afraid that we will take the country by force. Then we split the personal luggage into two parts, for we are staying in separate houses, and sent the lot going to the nearest place off by head. The rest was piled onto a truck and I took it up to our house, No1., the house of Dr. Willis. I drove up water street – crowded with negroes in varied deshabile, past stores in front of which squatted countless natives chatting & gesticulating, past a policeman – a traffic police cop in uniform to drive up the only cement street in the place. This, however, was rougher than the regular unpaved roads, for it contained yawning cavities which could not be avoided. Then we turned left, heralded by another cop onto broad st.- grass grown except where the automobiles have run in the center to traverse practically its whole length. Then a right & left and we drove up to our house. It is quite a big house – white-plastered – with a large spacious veranda on both the ground and second floor.- Tin roofed and more or less set on pilings. There is a little white picket fence around it behind which several Hibiscus, banana trees, palms & roses form something of a garden.
I unloaded the car & went back to the customs house for more junk – with my five boys riding in state behind. On our way we passed the president to whom all doffed their hats – and several convicts in yellow & black – some with chains – were breaking rock beside the road.
After refilling the truck I again returned to No 1. This time sending my five boys ahead with a few odds & ends we didn’t have room for. I left Dr. Shattuck seeing that all our other supplies were well cared for & locked up. In the meanwhile Dr. Strong & Coolidge had gone to see the american consulate about our guns. When I got to No 1 I found them just going out to look up the rest of the party at No 5 who were getting their goods & chattels straightened out. They introduced me to our hostess Mrs Willis who showed us where we were to sleep so that I would get the luggage properly distributed. Dr. Shattuck arrived too, with Mr. Johnson – an American who has had some 17 yrs experience on the coast and who paid off our boys.
We then unpacked, took a cold bath in a tin tub and got dressed for supper – a really sumptuous meal. And after supper we just sat around talking with a rather cool breeze drawing through the main sitting room. The customs man cost 10sh./person.