A.L. Nicholson wrote his wife Margaret on Sunday August 13, 1933 from the Elbow Beach Hotel in Paget, Bermuda. He was on assignment there designing a new addition to the hotel. It was his day off:

I started off this a.m. for the entrance to Somerset, the most beautiful part of Bermuda. Made two paintings, so I’m getting quite a collection. They are good, bad and indifferent--mostly the last. But I do enjoy the beauty and to be able to get away from this hotel life, which to me is abominable.

I introduced myself to the owner of “Crossways” today—Mrs. Boltse, a very pleasant lady who made me at home and allowed me to take photos of her quaint old home and grounds. She has not left the Islands in eighteen years…

It is great to be able to sit by the water’s edge and look down into its clear depths and see the fish of all sizes and colors sporting around by the hundreds. They are just thick! While painting one hears a splashing noise. You look up and there they are, sparkles of blue, red, yellow, green, all colors and all sizes, jumping out of the water and dashing around… The water is beautiful clear turquoise blue, almost emerald green…

The orchestra is now playing “God Save the King” and the gang will soon be up, so I expect I must finish this in my room, as there will be too much noise…

Room 311: I’m now in comparative quiet and will finish… Well, I got picture #1 finished, packed up and ate my lunch of salmon sandwiches with lemon on whole wheat and two oranges. Took a shortcut through adjoining property to the road to Somerset town, a beautiful road with flashes between cedar trees of the ocean and here and there a quaint old Bermudian house with gardens of oleander, hibiscus, bougainvillea, etc., etc., and in the backyards the patch of banana trees with green bananas on them. I finally selected a shot that would make a good picture, so got out my paraphernalia and got busy. Finished #2 in some sort of shape and started back for train 535, Bridge Hill “Halt.”

By the way, I forgot to mention the surprise party I had as I walked along the road towards the #2 spot. I heard a voice that I recognized. When I had turned the corner, here was this very rare sight of an auto truck stuck in the road with one of the rear tires gone and two men—a colored one and a Portuguese—both hard at work boosting the truck off the road with a heavy bar of wood so they could get the tire off for repairs. The voice was Cappa, the Portuguese man in charge of the Engineers’ Room and two men from the boiler room force helping. One of them drives the truck around the grounds. Cappa had bought the truck from the government and had gotten a permit to take it across the roads to Paget. I went my way and when I returned to the spot on which the truck rested it was gone, so I suppose he got it to the place he wished..

I leave here on the 24 th and get to New York on the 26 th. I hope you are all feeling better and are having some cooler weather. I am well and sweating to a great extent—it is plenty hot and humid, especially humid. The Tritts send their regards.

With lots of love to you all, I am affectionately,

Father