Captain Ed Newman loaned us the scrapbook of Carola A. Hartmann who was a waitress aboard the S.S. Argentina starting with the Argentina's third voyage, February 20, 1959, serving her the passengers through April 25, 1969.  The ship stopped sailing for Moore-McCormack later that year.  Below are a couple of items that were in her scrapbook and we thought you would like to read them:

A Tribute to Moore-McCormack Lines

(Written on the S.S. Argentina on the Sea-Safari Cruise, 1963)

By:  John R. Yost, Travelogue – Madison, Wisconsin

Five days of straight sailing, with no ports, give the passengers an opportunity to observe the operations of an American ship.  Members of the crew are cleaning and polishing all the time.  The Argentina is clean.  While the passengers engage in a lot of kindergarden [sic] foolishness, the team of waitresses play for "keeps," cleaning up after one meal so that they can prepare for the next.

The Moore-McCormack Lines made a wise decision when they selected these girls.  Cheerful, active, alert, they seem charged with energy.  At dinner they competently serve 350 passengers at one sitting.  Some of these people may be satisfied with a simple dinner, but others may chew through eight complete courses.  These young ladies take it all in their stride, which the force must be that of a hundred yard dash man.  With all, they are diplomats, and keep all the demanding "prima-donnas" and their husbands happy.  The efficient service they give would kill an equal number of men.  A great crew these girls.

TO A BEAUTIFUL APPLE STRUDEL

(Written for Carola A. Hartmann, September 29, 1965, Voyage 87 – South America Cruise)

By:  Poet Walter O'Malley, Dodgers

I've never seen a purple cow

Or a Yankee Doodle,

But Yesterday I talked,

With a real live apple strudel.

She's warm and blonde and finely made,

She's all things that are nice,

Like roses and lilacs and orchids,

And dewy edelweiss.

If you ever want to see her,

This apple strudel fair,

Sail the S.S. Argentina

When Carola is there.

She's an ocean of enchantment,

This blonde Bavarian lass,

She's sun and star and moonlight,

And pheasant under glass.

And when she takes a sunbath,

She's really quite a dish,

Because of her,

Male porpoises make like flying fish.

She is so devastating,

So entrancingly alive,

She may only wait on padres

And guys over eighty five.

I may never see the Taj Mahal,

Or sail the milky Nile,

But I've heard an apple strudel talk,

And seen her lovely smile.