Cranes, dock sheds, customhouses, freight boats, tugs, lighters, and a thicket of spars and funnels monopolize one's first impressions. Tall buildings distract attention from the seafaring interest of New York, but Southampton's skyline appears dedicated to shipping, with ocean liners as its skyscrapers (page 97).

In peacetime, when a big vessel approached the port diminutive tugs raced for it like a brood of hungry ducklings; optimistically they pushed and pulled the massive hulk, none apparently caring what the others were doing; yet in an incredibly short time their giant charge was securely berthed.

Today, in wartime, the festive air is missing. When a liner nears port, two pilots come aboard. One is the customary harbor pilot, the other a naval officer. Together they zigzag the ship through an extensive mine field, gradually working their way to a huge, submerged net which protects the harbor entrance from marauding submarines. Two tugs swing open the gateway of the net, and close it again as soon as the ship has passed through.

Convoys of merchant ships now assemble here before crossing the Atlantic, and other fleets of freighters arrive from overseas under armed escort. Naval vessels hover near, antiaircraft batteries are ever on the alert, and planes soar overhead, all closely guarding this great ocean terminal, to which come supplies from all corners of the earth to furnish England with the sinews of war.

From a towering boat deck one sees a medley of flags, but only by strolling through the docks can one get the cosmopolitan effect. Brazil Road and Java Road lead to wharves where bananas, millions of them, bring the ripe atmosphere of the West Indies; farther along, the smells of oranges and olive oil and onions unite in an aroma that could only be Spanish. Within the boundary of dockland, the United States, Australia, New Zealand, South Africa, India, and continental European ports meet around mighty consignments of citrus fruits, wool, meat, grain, butter, hides, tomatoes, and wines.

Southampton's commercial traffic dates far back, the early trade having been chiefly in wool and wine. During the fourteenth century a tax of a penny a pound was payable on all woolen goods passing through the port. These were weighed at the Wool House, which stands alongside the Old Quay. During the Napoleonic Wars, when the wool trade diminished, prisoners of war were confined in this building, and some of their carved names still remain on the old beams. This venerable relic is now being used as a warehouse…”