I had been as horrified as the rest of the nation by the harrowing headlines of that poor Lindbergh baby. The small boy snatched from his nursery crib while his parents slept just down the hall. I recalled that tall, square-jawed young pilot, the fair-haired man who’d smiled beside me as we’d accepted our honors from Eleanor Roosevelt. If such a thing could happen to him—a crime committed by a desperate villain demanding money as ransom—then couldn’t it happen to my girls as well?
In spite of the ravages of the Depression, General Foods was not only surviving—it was thriving. Ned was a skillful steward at the helm, and people still needed to eat; our products made that easier and more affordable for them, especially our Birds Eye. The money continued to come in, millions each year, more money than we could spend.
And yet, as much as I put my money to work helping others, I felt the need to get away for a bit, lest I become a target. I put honest, competent people in charge of my charities, and I paid them well to do good work. Our canteens continued to employ and feed hundreds of people a day, and now safe, clean beds were also available for up to fifty women and children a night. And so, with these management positions filled and funded, and with both of my older girls married and settled in households of their own, Ned and I decided to pack up Deenie and board our ship, sailing out of New York for a bit.
* * *
—
I would never have said it aloud, but I hoped that the trip to sea would do some good where I needed it the most—specifically, in my faltering marriage. It was our inaugural journey on a new yacht, one that Ned had designed, named the Sea Cloud. I saw the ship as a sort of peace offering to Ned, a gift of goodwill, though I made sure to explain that we had bought it together, with money that was ours rather than mine. It was only fair—he’d given me the reins to build Mar-a-Lago to my liking, and wasn’t he responsible for many of the millions that I had, the profits that kept climbing, allowing me to enjoy our luxuries?
Ned loved being on the water, and so did I. I hoped that, together with our Deenie, we could take off on new adventures. The Sea Cloud was a behemoth floating atop the seas, stretching over three hundred feet long, which meant it was grander than any of the luxury vessels belonging to the Vanderbilts, the Morgans, even the Windsors and the rest of the royals of Europe who plied the waters with their imperial yachts.
With custom furnishings in the French style of Louis XVI and a staff of more than seventy on board, we could travel the world with all of the luxury of Mar-a-Lago or Hillwood, while enjoying the spontaneity of our own whims. Ned liked to enjoy his drinks in the bar lounge or his cigars in the smokers’ saloon. When not swimming off the deck, we could keep active or enjoy massages in our state-of-the-art exercise rooms. Ned could get a shave while I had my hair washed and set in the salon. Deenie relished the private screenings in our onboard movie theater, accompanied by her full-time tutor and nanny, a firm but capable woman by the name of Mrs. Tytler. The kitchen staff served our meals on our custom Sea Cloud blue-and-white china. And thanks to Birds Eye Frozen Foods and the coolers we’d installed in our cooking galleys, we did not lack for good meals—everything from our vegetables to our desserts could come from the very menu that General Foods had made available to the public.
* * *
—
That first season aboard the Sea Cloud, we crisscrossed the seas from Martinique all the way to France and then Italy. Deenie delighted in everything—cooking with the staff in the crew galley, counting the dolphins that crested the waves along the bow, swimming in the warm waters of the Caribbean while massive turtles lolled beside her. She and Ned would spend hours fishing together, him showing her how to drop her line over the deck while I sat in a lounger nearby and enjoyed the gentle warmth of the sunshine and their laughter.
Those carefree months on the seas had all the makings of blissful happiness. Ned loved being a captain at sea. Deenie loved the ship. I loved my family. We should have been nothing but content as we relished the joys of an exciting and picturesque voyage together. And yet, even though the winter sun poured down on us, bright and brilliant; even though I had the people I loved most right beside me; even though my body was strong and healthy and I had blessings around me beyond counting, I could not ignore the fact that a frostiness had taken hold of my marriage.
One morning that winter, as we were anchored off the coast of southern France, I sat on the deck finishing my breakfast against the colorful backdrop of the port city of Cannes. White gulls circled overhead as the softest of breezes rippled the turquoise of the Mediterranean, and I felt the stirrings of hope. We were in France, one of my favorite places on the planet. The weather was balmy, and the view of the sea crashing against the cliffs was divine. Could we put things to right? I certainly hoped so. I would certainly try my hardest.