[Afloat at Last by John Conroy Hutcheson]@TWC D-Link bookAfloat at Last CHAPTER SEVEN 10/10
Bosun, call the starboard watch!" "Aye, aye, sorr," answered Tim Rooney from the bows, where he had been keeping his vigils, too, like us aft.
"Starbowlines, ahoy--!" I only remained on the poop while the man at the wheel was being relieved, and Mr Saunders, the second mate, came on deck to take Mr Mackay's place; when, going below to the deck-house cabin, I was soon in my little shelf of a bed, falling asleep more quickly, I think, than I had ever done before; doing so, indeed, almost the instant I got within the blankets. The next day, at noon, we tore by the Start, and, later on, that noblest monument a man could have, the Eddystone, Smeaton's glory; the ship racing down Channel as if all the sea-nymphs were chasing us, and old Neptune, too, at their heels to hurry them on, with his tritons after him. Our average speed all that day was a good ten knots, the wind never shifting and every sail drawing fore and aft.
Sometimes it was even more, according to Tom Jerrold's calculations, he having to heave the log at intervals and turn the fourteen-second glass, his especial duty, in order to determine our rate of progress through the water; but I don't think it was ever less from the time the sun rose in the morning. At all events, the Silver Queen made such good use of her time that, at six o'clock on this evening of our second day under sail, we were up to the Lizard, the last bit of English shore we should see in a hurry; and at "six bells" in the first watch, were speeding along some ten miles south of the Bishop's Rock lightship in the Scilly Isles, really, at last, at sea!.
<<Back Index Next>> D-Link book Top TWC mobile books
|