Diary of Martje Snip-Nienhuis
Sea Journey Volendam March 16, 1951.
I will try to write down some things about this sea journey because otherwise, you quickly forget the details. I will just start at the beginning.
On the morning of March 15, the day we had been remembering for some time because it was the day of our embarkation to Canada.
How did we come to the decision to emigrate? The first reason, it seems to me, was our longing? in the year 1927. I was at least “eleven years old” then. After the war 40-’45, a branch of the Christian Emigration Center was established in Warffum, the place where we lived as a baker and baker’s wife in the year ’42. We then signed up as members; we were inclined towards emigration. Several years passed, but in the year 1949, we started working on the matter, also because my sister Hennie and her family moved to America (Dec. 6, 1949), and Jet and Foppe had already moved to Canada.
In Warffum, we have very fond memories and we also earned our living there for 9 years, but still we felt burdened about the future. We know, our Heavenly Father could have also kept us in Warffum, but after much consideration and not without thinking about this matter in our prayers, we decided to write to our family to see if they could find a sponsor for us, someone willing to help us come over.
Luckily, Jet and Foppe were willing to do their best for us, so we received word from them that a certain A. Slothouber was willing to apply for the necessary papers for our arrival.
Mr. Slothouber emigrated to Canada in 1938, first worked on a farm and in a factory, then bought a bakery with a friend.
Now that we are on our way to our new homeland, the plan is for my husband to work in the bakery with A. Slothouber. But that’s still in the future; first, I want to tell you about how our journey is going.
On March 15th, we woke up at 5 o’clock in the morning. We stayed with Paul and Mien and left at 7 o’clock with the diesel for Rotterdam. Geert and Grietje also arrived in Assen at 10 minutes to 7 from Stadskanaal, and Onne and Anna came along for company. Piet had to go to Utrecht for an examination, so he could travel with us that far. Together with Jan and Nelly and their family, and Nelly’s brother, we were quite a group. After a smooth journey, we arrived in Rotterdam. First by tram to the ferry, and then to the Holland America warehouse, where our papers were checked, and we had to say goodbye to our family.
Once the formalities were completed, we could board the Volendam. A porter took us and our luggage to our cabin. We wouldn’t have found it on our own right away. It’s very interesting to explore such a sea castle entirely, but we didn’t have time for that at first because our family was standing outside opposite the ship, and we found a good spot to watch them for a while. It wasn’t too crowded then, so we could still shout a few things. We didn’t stay here long at first. The family went into the city for a couple of hours, and we could eat and drink coffee as much as we wanted. After our journey, this was very satisfying, and I put Onne and Gerard to bed for a while. At three o’clock, the family wanted to be back, and they were. On the shore, a dense crowd of family, friends, and well-wishers had gathered. Before our departure, we had to do a drill with the life jackets, assemble ourselves in the spot we were assigned in the lifeboat. Meanwhile, it was already nearly 6 o’clock, but new passengers kept arriving.
Finally, the moment arrived when the gangplanks were pulled in, and the steam whistle sounded three blasts, and almost without anyone noticing, the boat loosened from the quay. For quite some time, we could still wave. Anna stood on a platform, and we could see Onne the longest. At least his cap. We waved simultaneously for a little while longer. Onne’s cap and my arm. The music began to play the national anthem. Outside, it was starting to get dark, and inside, our meal was ready, which tasted wonderful to us again. Now the children could go to sleep, although it didn’t happen quickly because there was a lot of running around the entire ship. The older ones now went to the deck to take a look around. All sorts of lights could be seen. Also, many other ships, bidding farewell with blasts from their steam whistles. A little later, a boat that had sailed ahead with friends and acquaintances came alongside our ship. Everyone waved. Luckily, the weather was beautiful.
After we had passed Hoek van Holland, there was little more to see, so we went inside, and by half past nine, we found our sleeping places. We also got to know our cabin-mates. As for the cabin, we lucked out. Compared to the other cabins, it’s quite spacious, with ten beds, 5 x 2 high. Mrs. Baukema and her three children, along with a friend, have the other five beds. In the men’s section, Mr. Baukema has a bed right next to Klaas. It’s even less comfortable for the men than for us, and perhaps there are about a hundred men sleeping in one room. Claas says it’s not very pleasant and it rocks more than here. There are also rooms where perhaps a hundred mothers with children sleep.
On the first day, Friday, there were few seasick people, and in the evening, there was a closing service at nine o’clock, led by Reverend De Vries, a Dutch Reformed pastor from Holten(?). At ten o’clock in the evening, there is a gathering of Art 31, and in the morning for the Roman Catholics. Yesterday evening and tonight at quarter past nine, there’s dancing, something for everyone.
Saturday morning, there were quite a few seasick people, even though the sea is very calm; according to the notes on the chart, lightly undulating.
As I write this, it is Sunday morning, quarter to ten, and the weather is beautiful again. At ten o’clock, there is “church,” so I must stop now. Gerard and I will go to church now.
Sunday evening: Gerard and I went to church this morning. It was a service of three-quarters of an hour, but it was a beautiful, engaging sermon. Reverend DeVries spoke about the words of Jesus spoken to his fellow crucifixion victims. “Today, you will be with me in paradise.” All three times we have heard him now, he mentions that we are all seekers of the lost Paradise, but without faith in Jesus Christ, we can do nothing. Without Jesus, he said, heaven will be hell. One example from his sermon was this: In West Germany, a place was bombed. Later, the soldiers and the civilians went to clean up the area, including a church. When they were doing this, they also found a statue of Christ at the entrance. They searched for the statue’s hands but couldn’t find them. So, the statue stood there without hands. And what did the soldiers do? They made a caption and placed it at the foot of the statue. It read as follows: “My hands are your hands.” That’s how it should be. We want to put our hands to work in our new homeland, but let us remember that our hands are His hands. Fortunately, we can pray for strength from Above when fulfilling this task; in our own strength, we will accomplish nothing.
Not much else has happened. Tineke and Jan were feeling sick yesterday and vomited a bit, but today they ran around on deck and ate something. The weather doesn’t look too promising. Between Friday and Saturday night, a ship apparently passed very close behind the “Volendam” without lights on. It’s said to have been just a few meters away. When the crew noticed the ship and sounded three blasts on the whistle, they suddenly turned on all the lights. This could have ended differently. Here too, we saw God’s protecting hand.
What struck us on this journey is that the water, as long as we sailed between the land, was sea-green, but now that we are in the Atlantic, it is ink-blue.
This is the end of what Mother wrote. Andries Deleeuw, who has done a lot of work on a “Snip” genealogy, wants to publish a book and has been asking for this writing for a long time. Although it’s Mother’s personal booklet, I hope you will appreciate it. It gives us insight into how the Lord has led in the great step of emigrating.
Warm regards, Tena Evers-Snip, Wainfleet Ont. Canada.
