before and past us . Several came close and one coming up from astern proved to be a West boat S.S. WEST HARCUV AR a replica of the good old " Cherow." I felt a pang of homesickness. All the day it prevailed calm and variable and to soothe the people and doubtless himself, the Old Man stated that it mattered but little; after all we couldn't be berthed till Monday week and for that reason he didn't tow! Sour grapes, I reckon. July 13, 1925, Monday-Very hazy and it is often difficult to discern the horizon owing to the similarity of hue 'twixt sky and water. Were it not that the calm made the throbbing machinery audible, the steamers would have caused us anxiety for they loom up as if from nowhere and when finally spotted they appear to be hung in mid-air. Abreast of Portland Bill at noon. Breeze light and contrary, much bracing. This afternoon a long deferred task was performed, that of slaughtering the pig! It ought to have been done at sea and the fresh pork would then have tasted better. But better late than never. The Skipper performed the operation and a trusty hand he is. The actual killing was done by the Mate who fired a .32 into Dennis' brain, toppling the big fellow over instantly. Immediately willing hands dragged the carcass up on the hatch and the jugular vein was pierced causing the blood to drain out of the body. The blood was caught in a pan held by the steward who curdled it as it poured out and they intend to make blood puddings of it! Very nice, that is for the people aft, eh, what! Then the Old Man and three of the gang soaped the bristles off with hot water and knives after which the old fellow butchered the clean, white carcass. A clever job he made. Tonight at the wheel, I was allowed a favor and how I did grasp at it! It was my last, as it developed later, but it was of a lasting quality and doubtless will tide me over. July 14,-15th, 1925-Calm, oily calm and breathlessly hot these days. Finish seizing the outer jibstay today. July 16, 1925, Thursday-As the Channel narrows the converging traffic thickens and it is made unpleasant when a heavy fog sets down. No land is visible but the boom of Beachy Head's gun is heard every five minutes or so. At noon, the Royal Sovereign Lightship is abeam to port. Must hand it to this Old Man ; he's like a steamboat skipper in the way he hugs the land. Picture Beatty and the " Kranky Kate" (KATHERINE MACKALL) in such fog and such a place! Toward dark the fog lifted enabling us to pass close into Dungeness and speak the station there. What a beehive, a veritable nerve centre of trade . As we were speaking the station, three steamers were also blinking and this brought another blinker to light on the beach. At our request, he said he'd inform the towboats of our whereabouts as one was even now looking for us.
aboard, perhaps, for the voyage is not ended yet and lying thus awaiting orders he doesn't want his crew at loose ends. But after four months of "scouse and burgoo" and smelly beef why neglect to send fresh food off regularly and why not a little fruit? Further, why hasn't the pig been killed, a question which the GRACE HARWAR's skipper put to him one day that he was aboard? All these questions we asked each other and enlarged upon as we impatiently paced to and fro on the decks . Matters lying thus, it was a diplomatic stroke on the Mate's part to break the monotony and relieve the overpressure of "steam" by this diversion. July 11, 1925, Saturday-This forenoon the ship GRACE HARWAR towed out and made sail to a nor'west breeze. She looked a beauty with her canvas spread. She set course down Channel, bound round to Belfast as we heard later. Word came off in the pilot boat that we were going to sea in thP after noon and after dinner the anchor was hove short and all sails loosed. The pilot too, was aboard and we only awaited the Skipper's pleasure. Gladness reigns 'aboard when it's verified that we're bound for London! Spliced outer-jib stay in the morning. About 3 :30 the boat came off with the Old Man , his daughter and the PARCHIM's skipper. But we had little time for mooning. With the gas motor the upper tops'ls were hoisted and the lively lads sheeted home sail upon sail. She was cast upon the port tack, the norwesterly breeze sliding her thru' the water like an eel. We dipped to PARCHIM and curiously enough her skipper was even then taking his farewells of our Mate and betaking himself into the boat. It being Saturday, many pleasure yachts were gliding about and cameras were much in evidence to catch so rare a picture as a ship under canvas. Happy to be up and going, we catted and fished the anchor to a rousing "Californi-o" and when this was done, the port watch was sent below. It was then about 4 :45 and the Mate commented afterwards on the alacrity with which our ship's company "dressed" up their baby. Slipping along smoothly close to the beach and at 8 :00 o'clock still daylight, Eddystone's lonely tower was blinking abeam to port. Shipping to all sides, trawlers, fishing yawls, tramps, passenger-boats, every conceivable craft passed before us in review as we heeled over to the night breeze. It being Saturday, a heavy sailing day, it is usual to expect heavy traffic here. Very interesting but ticklish work in a fog, I reckon! July 12, 1925, Sunday-Forenoon, a flat calm reigns and a death-like silence pervades the ship, unlike the noisesome calm spells at sea when the heaving swells cause everything aloft to emit a sound of its own. Even the steamers passing far off could be heard as their propellers churned the water with a sound like the muffled rolling of a drum. This day a panorama of steamboats passed 21