All Sunday they toiled--the spars on an 18-tonner are no child's play--and at last they were able to rig up a jury-mast which would carry the mainsail with four reefs, while the foresail was able to catch the wind of heaven with only two.

On Monday morning the yacht sailed out of Yarmouth fully rigged, and made off to the regatta with as cheerful a crew as ever braved the elements.

The result of this labour was that the Baden-Powells, with a jury rig, won a second prize, and came in for the warm commendation of wondering and admiring sailors.
As I have said, in these expeditions the boys did seamen's work.

They learned how to set sails, how to splice, how to reeve gear, how to moor a ship, and make all ready for scrubbing the bottom.

It was a fine sight to see the healthy younkers, with trousers rolled over the knee, ankles well under slate-coloured oozing mud, scrubbing away at the bottom of the ship, and laughing and singing among themselves, while the reflective Warington, pipe in mouth, looked on and encouraged the toilers.
All round the English coast sailed the Baden-Powells, fighting their way to glory in regattas, and enjoying themselves from sunrise to sunset.