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Show ll 1 I f I f f 1 4 i t 1. JL ' 5, Ail CP11 g " if .;......-":"'- 4 . - (D on the . n r '.i ' An American housewife tells how she, her husband, and daughter lived through one of the most terrifying voyages 1 - ' j in modern sea history Delbert Janie, and daughter Deborah beam Smith,-wi- e awoke sometime in the predawn hours on I day, Jan. seven-year-o- to sleep. air-conditio- , 15-d- ay . ; Family Weekly; April 9, 1961 se, We Learn What's Happening At 9:20, a static crackle came over the ship's public-addre- ss system. In a moment, a voice began a long haranguing speech, first in Portuguese, then in Spanish. Joan Harborsen, a young lady with Who with her husband had, gone sight-seeius at several ports, understood enough Spanish and Portuguese to tell us: "He says that this sei- zure coincides with revolts in Portugal and Spain and that Capt. Henrique Galvao is in charge." As she was about to elaborate, the voice said in labored English: "You will not be sailing to Port Everglades. Your Captain Maia cannot talk to you You will be at sea for five days." What will our parents back in Johnstown think? ng life-and-de- ath i ill-at-ea- , 22 vaguely system had Since the ship's failed outside of La Guaira, Venezuela, our cabin on the leeward or windless side of the. ship had been stiflingly hot as we ploughed northward through the Caribbean on the final leg of our cruise from Lisbon, Portugal, to Port Everglades, Fla. We were less than two days out now, and, as lovely as the cruise had been, we looked forward to a reunion with our families in Johnstown, Pa. Sleep wouldn't come; I couldn't get over the feeling that something was different. Then I heard a faint rustling noise and noticed that our window curtains were swirling in a freshening breeze. Suddenly, I was aware of the . ship's turbines pounding fiercely. The Santa Maria was scudding over a choppy ocean at terrific speed! The breeze must mean we're running into a storm, I thought, and Captain Maia is trying to beat it to port Satisfied with this explanation and gladdened by the breeze, I fell back to sleep. Sleep would never have come that morning if I had known the real reason for that welcome breeze. drama had been enacted on the A bridge several hours before; a ship's officer we had numbered among our friends was shot to death; another friend, the ship's doctor, was severely wounded; several others in the ship's crew were at that very moment being treated for gunshot wounds; and Capt. Mario Sinoes Maia was linger arrest on his own ship. If I had known of the nightmare that was to haunt us for the next 11 days, I would never have been able to sleep. their ordeal. we woke early that Sunday Still morning. Del dressed and said he was going to take a prebreakfast stroll on deck. Debbie hadn't been feeling well and already had had a shot of penicillin for what the doctor thought might be tonsillitis so I decided to stay with her. When Del came back, I noticed his grave manner and knew something was wrong. "Don't be scared, honey," he said directly, "but armed men have taken over the ship. Captain Maia is a prisoner. We're all to meet in the lounge at 9 a.m." It's difficult to describe how I felt then I'm really not sure myself. I worried mostly about little Debbie. As the minutes ticked off toward 9 o'clock, my apprehension increased, and just before we left for the meeting, I said firmly: "Debbie is coming with us. I don't know who these pirates are, but from now on she stays with us!" pasWe joined the other first- - and second lounge. The insurrectionsengers in the first-cla- ss ists stood outside glass doors, hands on holstered gun butts. From time to time, I would steal a frightened .glance at them, but it didn't appear as if they would molest is. Sun- disturbed by some change aboard the cruise ship Santa Maria. In the dim first-cla- ss moonlight filtering through the window of our cabin, I could make out the slumbering figld ures of my husband Del and our daughter Debbie. Reassured, I tried to drift back; 5 ater By Mrs. JANIE SMITH as told to Bob Driscoll V I wondered. And what will happen to us? Boarding the ship at Lisbon seemed a distant aftmemory. We were coming home from Holland er two years abroad and had decided to take a southern route to avoid bad weather. We had never heard of the Santa Maria until a travel agent suggested her. She had been a blind choice, so to speak,' but she looked a true queen of the seas. This would be a dream cruise, we thought s The first incident to mar the dream was the breakdown. Then Debbie complained that she didn't feel well. But we were getting closer to home, we reassured durselves. Lulled by the pleasantness of the cruise, "even some strange new passengers boarding at La Guaira didn't seem particularly ominous to me. As' I watched them struggling with heavy hand baggage, I remarked to Del: "They don't look very much like tourists, do they? They look a little bit sinister." I commented on a funeral procession, too. Mourners in black accompanied a coffin to the ship. The coffin was sealed in a cabin, and I thought little more about it until we were finally getting off the ship. Then ! noticed that the seal to the cabin had been broken and the cabin itself was empty. Did the pirates bring their heavier arms and dynamite aboard inside a coffin? That first morning, we were too terrified to think much about anything like that, however. Our apprehension mounted as we saw the mutineers, for no apparent reason, tear down a beautiful green sun awning over the passenger deck. Next they ripped off the canvas lifeboat coverings. It was some time before any of us put our fears into words: did they intend to cast us adrift? i- -' While we discussed the mutiny, Debbie stayed in bed with a rapidly blossoming rash. At first, we thought it might be just heat rash; but after a time the rash added t character, and we knew what it was: measles! air-condition-ing |