The Ship’s Arrival

Paraty - The town lived more or less isolated from the rest of the world. I say more or less because radio had already arrived in these parts, and with an enchanting turn of its dials we were connected to even the most distant events, through the magic of Hertzian waves.

But to travel, to leave town and visit the state capital, then Niterói, or the capital of the Republic, then Rio de Janeiro, there was but one way to go - by sea.

One day on either side made all the difference in terms of catching the boat and being able to travel or not.

Even now, when I remember those times, I think about the arrival of the ship – a major event in the town, always anticipated with a dose of anxiety. It was part of a premeditated ritual enacted by the residents of the sleepy little village.

The boat, which left from Mangaratiba, would set sail a half-hour after the arrival there of the 6 a.m. train from Brazil Central Station (Central do Brasil), a.k.a Dom Pedro II Railway Station (Estação Dom Pedro II), in Rio de Janeiro. As the train didn’t have a precise time of arrival in Mangaratiba, the ship, which would receive passengers from the train, had to wait. Consequently, the boat’s arrival time in Paraty was never certain; it depended on when it left Mangaratiba. This probably explains why, lacking anything better to worry about, people made this their biggest concern of the day.

No matter what the time of departure from Mangaratiba, however, the time of arrival in Paraty could be estimated, with reasonable certainty, two hours ahead of time. That’s because the next to last stop on the long route was in Mambucaba, where passengers disembarked and the mail was delivered. “Seu” Lara, the chief of the Telegraph Office there, called by telephone (the old crank kinds the operated via telegraph lines and which required strong vocal chords if the speaker expected to be heard) to the Telegraph Office in Paraty reporting the departure time from Mangaratiba. Two hours later, the boat would arrive in Paraty.

For that reason, interested parties would hang out around the post office, waiting for the information to be provided by the employee on duty as soon as he received it.

Now that everyone knew the time of arrival, the Rua da Praia (Beach Street) would fill up with people a half hour before the appointed hour. Commercial establishments would receive their usual customers. Around the landing point, groups would form, people shooting the breeze.

When the long-awaited craft appeared on the horizon in the channel of Mantimento Island, and a little later, when it had passed Bexiga Island and began sounding its horn, the bridge was full of people. Porters with their hand-trucks, people waiting for relatives or friends, the usual curiosity seekers, and people who planned to dispute ownership of a copy of the day’s newspaper.

The arrivals, after having dispatching their luggage (in those days travelers didn’t trouble themselves carrying their own bags) headed to the town center on their way home – offering news of the capital and the journey while getting the lowdown on happenings in town during their absence.

The day’s ritual ended at the street corner where the post office stood. If the mailbags arrived by 8 p.m., postal workers would put in overtime and deliver the mail that very day. If later, delivery would have to wait until the following day, starting at 7 a.m.

How long it has been!

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