Late in March of 1862, the scattered Latter-day Saints in the British Isles learned they could receive aid from the Perpetual Immigration Fund to help finance converts to their journey to Utah. When my Great, Great, Great Grandfather John Griffith Timothy received the message that a ship for this purpose was scheduled to leave Liverpool, England, he had only nine days to dispose of his family small clock and watch business and the scanty household furniture. He and his wife made final preparations for the long journey from Swansea, Wales for their family of eight (with six boys under the age of nine). It was estimated that it would take at least six weeks to cross the ocean from Liverpool to the New York harbor. Each family was told they would be responsible for their own welfare while aboard the ship.
The major food substance on the trip was “hardtack,” an unleavened bread made of flour, water and sugar, baked and dried hard, then packed in bags for storage. For people that were constantly hungry, this was actually quite palatable when pounded into powder and made into what the Timothy family called “pudding”.
The Timothys began their journey boarding a train that carried them all the way through Northern Wales to the port of Liverpool, England, where they joined with other converts and missionaries on their way to Utah. There were many new sites in this busy city that were new and exciting as they made their way to the ship harbor.
The ship, “John J. Boyd” had already made several successful trips across the ocean, carrying Latter Day Saints. This time, on April 23, 1862, the chartered vessel would carry 701 people including missionaries. While on the John J. Boyd, waiting for it to set sail, Grandfather Timothy decided to leave the ship to sell some watches that he carried in a basket. He thought he would take the opportunity to make a little extra money in the city before leaving. Grandmother Timothy tried to convince her husb
and to stay for fear of the ship leaving without him, but to no avail.He hadn’t been gone an hour before the ship’s horn sounded giving the “all aboard” signal. Then, the John J. Boyd began moving slowly down the river and was soon nosing her way into the Irish Sea…without Grandfather Timothy!
Grandmother and her children tearfully tried to persuade the captain to stop the ship but were unsuccessful. He might not have understood their Welsh language. At any rate, the story goes (as told by their daughter Martha years later who was born as they traveled across the plains toward Utah): “After several hours sailing, a small boat was seen approaching the ship which proved to be father and a kind fisherman, who had understood the situation and offered his assistance to help. Father was pulled up over the side of the ship with a rope. There was great rejoicing!” John sacrificed much for this unfortunate decision; not only did he lose his watches in the process of getting back to the ship, but he was ill during the entire voyage.
In 1862 aboard the John J. Boyd, there weren’t any cabins or dining rooms. Each family or group located themselves in a corner or open space of the ship and did what they could to keep their belongings situated in their allotted spot. Often the sea was rough and behaved like a rocking horse, plowing through the choppy waters. Most of the travelers had times of sea sickness and some were sick the entire time. “Sometimes,” Martha wrote in her journal, “the whole deck was a jumble of people and their effects which rolled from
one side of the deck to the other as the ship battled the rough sea.”Once there was a sad accident. Two little girls were playing on the stairway that led to the bridge deck when suddenly the ship lunged and a huge wave swept over the deck. The children were killed and buried at sea.
It took between forty two and forty five days before the anchor was dropped in New York’s harbor. Martha wrote, “Their hearts were so full of praise and thanksgiving for their safe arrival and to have the good earth under them once more, that most all fell to their knees and kissed the earth and thanked God for His mercy in bringing them to land once again.”
(This story was contributed by Jerry Van Leuven of the Castle Rock Ward who is the great, great great grandson of John and Martha Timothy.)
