EXCERPTS FROM THE DAILY LEVEL # 9

Wednesday, September 9 , 1998

5'9" above SEA LEVEL

Barbere Brant (Bum Boat worker)

MOTHER RACHEL III

Sea Level, N.C., July 27, 1998

...I remember the steward came in the saloon one day at lunchtime on a Sunday, you know, he says, 'gentlemen, how's the turkey?', and he had a towel wrapped round his head like a turban ... so, the chief engineer, he says, 'my God, steward, what's the towel around your head for?'.... 'oh, you'll find out chief!' and off he goes...he was called Mother Rachel then ... he's about six foot two and an ex-prizefighter, he's a real brawler when he wants to be, a tough son of a gun.... that night he comes in... 'gentlemen, how are the steaks?' ....chief says, 'my God, look at his hair, it's BLOND!'.... Rachel says, 'chief' he says, 'I took a survey and I found out, gentlemen prefer blondes,' and off he goes...

(Harrison Maycroft)

THE SAILORS' SNUG HARBOR

[...] Every morning at seven o'clock a bell calls all the inmates down to breakfast, which consists of a quart of excellent coffee for each and an abundant supply of home-made bread and butter. Dinner is on the table at twelve, and supper at half past five or six P.M., according to the season. At nine in the evening all the lights must be put out, except the lamps in the halls and the hospital, and the inmates are expected to retire for rest. Except when tabooed or on the sick list, every inmate is at liberty to leave the institution and visit friends in the city or elsewhere. All he is required to do is to report to the governor before leaving and upon his return. The gates are open for visitors every day during the week from nine in the morning till nine in the evening, except on Sundays, when no visitors are received.

The inmates were at their dinner in the large and attractive dining-hall when we entered it. The largest dining-room contains twelve long tables, each of which can accomodate thirty-two diners. In another dining-room opposite there are four tables, each capable of accomodating the same number. The spoons and forks were of the best white metal, each bearing the stamp "Sailors' Snug Harbor". The table linen was perfectly white and clean, and altogether the appearance of the dining-hall was more like that of a good substantial hotel than of a charitable institution. [...]

(from: Harpers New Monthly Magazine, January 1873.)