The South Seas by Paul Callister Part 1

It is time to tell a story again.

The following was written by Paul Callister, Irene Callister McCullough’s brother, about a trip they went on to the South Seas. As it is quite a long story…here is Part 1….

The South Seas

Getting Ready to Leave and a Funny Moment on the Train

Anticipation often leads one into the far corners of the earth and I had often thought of traveling to the South Seas where I had been told that palms and ferns grew profusely. In the winter time I have longed for the warmth of ocean sands and warm ocean breezes and anticipation has now given birth to reality for here Mary and I are on the S.S. Monterey with Verne and Irene (McCullough) and Walter and Margaret Latshaw.

In August, when the trip was first mentioned, I was confined at home from a condition brought on by not keeping the Word or Wisdom. Mary loves such trips as much as I do and was for it from the start. Preparing for a vacation of this magnitude gave her much joy in things she loves to do, shopping and more shopping. When we made our reservations, January 11^th seemed so far away and I wondered at the time if I would be strong enough by then to make the trip for I could hardly make my way around the house. The body soon mends if given a chance and strength returns where it has been dissipated away. Health is such a precious thing and yet we think little of it until suddenly deprived of the precious gift. Days, weeks, months passed fast. Mary had all of her bags packed before Christmas.

On January 7^th we left Ogden for San Francisco. Paul (my son) and his wife Elenore drove Verne, Irene, Mary and I to Ogden to catch the train. We had decided to leave Salt Lake at 5 o’clock to give us plenty of time to make the thirty-eight miles to Ogden, but when we called to pick up the McCulloughs, Verne was just repacking one of his suit cases, looking for a pair of gloves, here we lost fifteen minutes. I had forgotten my rubbers so another five minutes was squandered going back to our house and then we had to go to the Kearns Building for Verne’s rubbers. We lost more than thirty minutes of precious time but we made it to the Ogden Depot just in time to get aboard the train; thanks to my boy Paul’s good driving.

No trip was ever taken that didn’t have its funny parts. Verne started this one out by leaving his ticket home. He is so meticulous how others do, that he often forgets about himself. On the train he put his watch on backwards and read from the illuminated dial in his upper berth 7:30 AM instead of 1:30 AM. Out of his berth he climbs and shaves, washes, dresses, eats an apple and hurries Irene out of her berth, fearful he would be too late for breakfast.

He walks into the club car, all dark with the brake man dozing in a chair. He wakes the brakeman and asks where all the people are and was told in their berths asleep where they should be, but Verne, in his mild manner, says they should be up as it is after eight o’clock. The brakeman looked at Verne and then his own watch and told Verne that his watch read 2:30 AM. When Verne saw his mistake he went back to his room and told Irene of his mistake. Irene said she thought it was one of the shortest nights she had ever slept through. They both undressed and went back to bed.

To be continued...