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Here is a fun story I ran across via reddit.com. It's about the first (successful) female stowaway, written in the 60s by Paulette Cooper. Her life is also pretty interesting if you were to google or look her up on wikipedia.
I first went to the bar to inaugurate my first scheme; establishing myself as an alcoholic who preferred liquid to a real meal. A large number of passengers were already at the bar, and since I’m friendly, I immediately met almost everyone there, as I had done on other cruises I had been on. But unlike the other times, I couldn’t enjoy myself. Whenever someone casually touched me, I could feel a pain right through to the pit of my stomach. Whenever the loudspeaker went on, I held my breath, certain they were about to announce my unwanted presence. And every time someone looked me straight in the eye, I knew they knew. I became so nervous that I was grateful when they at last left for dinner. (“I prefer to drink than eat. That’s how I keep so slim,” I said to explain my staying there.)
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