Sixteen feet--mud.

No bottom." "Ah, ze channel," said French Pete at this.
For a few minutes it was "No bottom"; and then, suddenly, came 'Frisco Kid's cry: "Eight feet--hard!" "Dat 'll do," French Pete commanded.

"Run for'ard, you Sho, an' let go ze jib.

You, Kid, get all ready ze hook." Joe found the jib-halyard and cast it off the pin, and, as the canvas fluttered down, came in hand over hand on the downhaul.
"Let 'er go!" came the command, and the anchor dropped into the water, carrying but little chain after it.
'Frisco Kid threw over plenty of slack and made fast.

Then they furled the sails, made things tidy, and went below and to bed.
It was six o'clock when Joe awoke and went out into the cockpit to look about.