12 Sep 1927
John to Mother / S.S. Montclaire
Well here I am. I don't know how long I'll stay. I wrote to Dot last night and had to leave three times before I got three pages written. I gave it up and quit. We hit the sea last night about 7 bells and have been tossing ever since. We rock from end to end and not across - that's what gets you. Just as we were getting out to sea I ate a big dinner. An hour or so later it all came up. I slept well last night through and was not sick as long as I was laying down. A sailor told me though that if you lay down when you felt sick you'd be down from here till Liverpool. so I try to keep up and keep my food down. I didn't eat any breakfast this morning, only an orange. That came up a little later. Ten told me before I left that if I got sick not to quit eating because that would make it worse. So I felt better toward evening and so ate some dinner. I went right up on deck and played quoits in the cool air, as so have managed to keep it down so far. It is now 4:30 p.m. Sitting down makes me feel worse than anything. I'm getting to feel quite weak right now so I'll cut it short. We have been traveling in fog all day long. It has rained at times. There is not much to do. You can't read or write because it makes you sick. You just have to exist. They say it will wear off by tomorrow if we keep up and around. I'm trying to. Merrill is the worse one of the bunch. He can't keep a thing down and sleeps in bed most the time. There are other fellows worse than I am too. Well, I'm going to lose what's left of my dinner if I don't quit. Give my love to the family.
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