On the bridge our giant captain, in uniform; at his side a little pilot in elaborately gold-laced uniform; on the forecastle a white mate and quartermaster or two, and a brilliant crowd of lascars standing by for business.

Our stern was pointing straight at the head of the channel; so we must turn entirely around in the puddle--and the wind blowing as described.

It was done, and beautifully.

It was done by help of a jib.

We stirred up much mud, but did not touch the bottom.