I expected to see this; still, it thrilled me as an electric shock might have done.

I slid down the mast, trembling under the strangest sensations; and not able to resist the impulse, I sat on deck and gave way to my emotions.
To folks in a parlor on shore this may seem weak indeed, but I am telling the story of a voyage alone.
I didn't touch the helm, for with the current and heave of the sea the sloop found herself at the end of the run absolutely in the fairway of the channel.

You couldn't have beaten it in the navy! Then I trimmed her sails by the wind, took the helm, and flogged her up the couple of miles or so abreast the harbor landing, where I cast anchor at 3:30 P.M., July 17,1897, twenty-three days from Thursday Island.

The distance run was twenty-seven hundred miles as the crow flies.

This would have been a fair Atlantic voyage.