color lent by the bright Norwegian flag at her monkey-gaff. So, this thought I, is to be my first Cape Horner: well she'll do me. Once aboard I installed myself in a spare bunk forr'd which unfortunately was a lower but being at the forr'd end of the focsle it was later to prove a good bunk. As I'm not to "turn to" til Monday, I busy myself all the afternoon installing myself, stowing away "go-ashore" rigs, making shelves in the bunk and making the bunk as livable as possible. A word of the crew. There are sixteen bunks in the focsle and thus far fourteen are occupied. The crowd is composed in the main of young Norwegian chaps, (Deck Boys and Young Men they're called) who are making their first deep-water trip and who usually stay by a ship when the older hands desert. These chaps can take their places all right but there are three young fellows shipped here, Aussie two of them and one who claims to hail from Brooklyn, U.S.A. These fellows have had little or no time at sea and will be a hindrance rather than a help for some time. He intends to ship but three A.B.'s here, for ten pounds is appalling to him. Before I joined her, he shipped a Chilano who had served two years in the PHYLLIS, a crackerjack sailorman, a good pull on a brace from the looks of him and of a likable nature. Being both interested in the PHYLLIS and the Pacific Coast, we two hit it off nicely from the start. The cook is a skinny, English kid who is intent on returning home after two years on Australian sheep stations. Offering himself for next to nothing-four pounds-he was eagerly snatched up by the Skipper and it developed later that the Kid knew nothing whatever of his work, his idea merely was to get experience and so get a discharge. Then he could ship again perhaps. From past experience I had an idea of what to expect in the line of food but even then I found that I was to receive a surprise. For Sunday there was little besides soup, meat and potato-es; coffee and bread dominating the menu. Even then there was no coffee or tea for dinner, instead we had it at 3:00 in the p.m. which is the style in these ships. No dessert of any kind tho' a man can do just as well 'thout sweets. But what made matters bad was that that young imposter dished up the grub so poorly ; even the steward up-
fasted, I had a walk about awhile and then made for the station to hire a cab to convey me and my luggage to the trains. Arrived there, my obliging acquaintance shouldered the bag and together we managed the lot nicely. The train conveyed us to the old depot in Port Adelaide, only a block from the shipchandler's and depositing the whole here I strolled about for my last look at the dusty little grain-port of which I hope to see more later. The skipper turned up about 10 o'clock and seemed all haste to get me aboard. I was bundled into the tonneau of a car and away we went to Semaphore Landing. En route we picked up a Customs Officer who hailed us and asked for a lift as he was going out to the anchored ships. Arrived at the pier or rather boardwalk, which thrust itself into the bay for perhaps a quarter mile. I shouldered my sea-bag and the skipper and the Customs chap took hold of the handle of the suitcase which groaned from its load of books. Thus we proceeded out to the end of the pier and I was bundled aboard of the Custom's steamer lying there. There were three square-riggers at anchor about two miles off and of the two fourstickers, I picked the black one as the PHYLLIS tho' she showed no colors. She had a slightly hull, but her rigging appeared light and awry unlike the smart, viol-string tautness usually seen in old Yankee squareriggers. I was told later that she was virtually a wreck aloft due to age and tho' her hull was neatly painted it served only to conceal the rust beneath. Still, she was the PHYLLIS, the only I had set my heart on and she looked good to me. The Britisher, the GARTHPOOL, was anchored farthest up and seen thus at a good distance she looked more massive than ever. By now we were approaching my next ship the SKAREGROM and tho' I cannot become reconciled to her name and the stump to'gallant rig, there's a beauty in her. We approached her from a little on the bow and she looked a capable comfortable ship as she swung to her hook. Against the grey of an overcast sky and the motionless sheen of a calm sea, her greyish-white hull and bright yellow spars contrasted beautifully and the scheme was further enhanced by the dash of t6