National Geographic : 1962 Aug
which is the right name for the place the Yankee whalemen called Johanna. I asked why the women of Anjouan had such red mouths. "They chew betel nut," he said. Bertha "swallowed the anchor," as she put it, and married a landsman and stayed quietly on the Cape. She lives alone now in her rambling old frame house under big, friendly trees. In the parlor's cool corners, in glass-doored cabinets of another era, rest her treasures from far places. Fragile flowers of feathers speak of women's patient hands, women of the Cape Verde Islands, where Yankee whalers, outward bound, called for crews. There is marvelous scrimshaw-her mother's sewing box of rosewood and ivory, a beautiful swift for the winding of yarn, jagging wheels for crimping pies-made by the whalers during long passages down the hurrying trade winds. Bertha had a bad spell in a hospital bed last winter, but when spring rolled around, she told the doctors she was going home to take care of her house-and she did. The children of West Falmouth come to hear Bertha's stories of distant oceans and to eat the cookies she makes by the dozens. Watching them through the parlor window, playing on the lawn, I spoke to her of nostalgia and the golden days of childhood. "Pshaw," she said, "you don't live on Cape Cod, so you're getting old the wrong way. Life is so good here you never look astern, you're that busy waiting for tomorrow." THE END Skilled hand at the helm: Skipper John F. Kennedy tends the tiller as his 25-foot knockabout Victura cleaves the chop off Hyan nis Port. The President's wife Jacqueline, his brother Edward, and assorted small fry make up the crew. The Wianno Senior class boat, designed by the century-old Crosby firm of Osterville, meets special sailing conditions of Nantucket Sound. First Family frolics on the Kennedy beach at Hyannis Port. The President swings Caroline aloft as Mrs. Kennedy basks in the sun.