Next came the squaring of the yards, though this was imperfectly done, and a good deal by guess-work.

The men came down, and there lay a noble fleet at anchor, with nothing visible to those on the cliffs, but their top-hamper and upper spars.
Sir Gervaise Oakes had been so much struck and amused with a sight that to him happened to be entirely novel, that he did not speak during the whole process of anchoring.

Indeed, many a man might pass his life at sea, and never witness such a scene; but those who have, know that it is one of the most beautiful and striking spectacles connected with the wonders of the great deep.
By this time the sun had got so high, as to begin to stir the fog, and streams of vapour were shooting up from the beach, like smoke rising from coal-pits.

The wind increased, too, and rolled the vapour before it, and in less than ten minutes, the veil was removed; ship after ship coming out in plain view, until the entire fleet was seen riding in the roadstead, in its naked and distinct proportions.
"Now, Bluewater is a happy fellow," exclaimed Sir Gervaise.

"He sees his great enemy, the land, and knows how to deal with it." "I thought the French were the great and natural enemies of every British sailor," observed Sir Wycherly, simply, but quite to the point.
"Hum--there's truth in that, too.