Percy F. Westerman

“ The Milford Sea Scouts had a most pleasant afternoon's ramble round Oxford, with Mr. Jackson's scouts. They saw as much as anyone could possibly expect to see and appreciate in so short a space of time.
"I can't help envying you, Armitage," said the Oxford Scoutmaster towards the end of the afternoon. "There's nothing like a sea life. Knocking about on a river is very good sport, but, when all's said and done, it doesn't come up to a sea voyage. You don't get the lift of the ocean and the stinging salt breezes and all that sort of thing here." ”

“ Alum Bay and the detached chalk masses known as the Needles were blotted out in a thick but invisible mist that blended with the grey sky.
"It's stopped, sir," exclaimed Hepburn.
"What's stopped?" inquired Mr. Armitage.
"The fog-horn, sir," replied Alan, who, like the rest of the Sea Scouts, knew the character of the Needles "fog reed-horn" well, since Milford is within six miles of the lighthouse. "It's a blast of five seconds every fifteen seconds. I haven't heard it for more than a couple of minutes."
"The fog's lifted out there, perhaps," suggested Roche. ”

“ The tide had been flowing for about an hour when the Rosalie passed between the two pierheads. Even then the masonry towered far above her deck.
"There's a vacant berth, sir!" exclaimed Stratton, pointing to a flight of steps on the inner side of the East Pier.
"Yes," replied Mr. Armitage, "but it won't do for us. I'll tell you why later."
Throttling the only efficient motor to dead slow, the Scoutmaster brought the yacht steadily and carefully until she was almost abeam of a large steam trawler.
"Ahoy!" shouted Mr. Armitage. "Can we make fast alongside of you?" ”

“ Optically the yacht was in the midst of a vast sea, but a deviation from the correct course would speedily pile her upon one of the submerged dangers that infest the Thames estuary.
"Lightship ahead, sir," reported Woodleigh.
"That's Black Deep," replied the Scoutmaster. "We're all right, so far. Now port helm a point. That ought to take us through Fisherman's Gat."
A few minutes later the hitherto tranquil surface of the water was ruffled with cats' paws. A light breeze from the nor'west'ard was springing up.
"All hands on deck!" shouted the Scoutmaster. "All hands make sail." ”

“ Stratton, following the direction of the Scoutmaster's outstretched hand, also uttered an ejaculation, for swimming strongly for the Rosalie was Bruin. The Olivette's crew, down below smartening themselves up, were ignorant that the pup had leaped overboard. Bruin, seized by a sudden inspiration after the manner of members of the canine world, had quietly taken to the water in order to rejoin the yacht.
"We'll pull their legs, sir," declared Peter, as he hauled the mascot on deck. "I'll take him below out of the way and then signal to ask them where he is. That'll put the wind up them." ”

“ CHAPTER VII Stranded
"Looks something like a river, sir," remarked Hepburn, as the unlovely waterside buildings at Reading were left astern, and the Olivette gained the broad reach where the Kennet joins the Thames.
"Looks are sometimes deceptive," rejoined Mr. Armitage, who was standing behind Hepburn in the wheel-house. "There's a tricky spot just beyond Sonning. I'll tell you where when we come to it. Because a river's wide it doesn't necessarily mean that it's deep. Edge a little over towards the tow-path." ”

“ While the Patrol-leader was making his way back to the yacht the four-inch hawser was led to the for'ard winch, and the small rope taken aft and a watch-tackle clapped on to it.
"That's all we can do for the present," declared Mr. Armitage. "It's no use putting a strain on the ropes until the tide flows round her. Pipe all hands to breakfast, Peter." ”

“ Suppose I keep the Olivette at Keyhaven, will your Sea Scouts look after her? Take me for trips when I can run down? If so, you can use her whenever you want, whether I'm there or not. Virtually I remain the owner, but in practice she's yours."
"Quite a good scheme, from our point of view," replied Mr. Armitage. "In fact, it looks rather like sponging on you. We hardly——"
"Rot!" interrupted Mr. Murgatroyd. "It's a quid pro quo arrangement. I save both money and worry by it. Say the word, and she's ready for you when you've handed over the Rosalie." ”

“ His own experience had taught him that anyone who knew how to handle a small sailing dinghy properly can sail a yacht, but it did not necessarily follow that a person who could manage a large vessel could sail a dinghy. Carrying the process still further, it was fairly safe to assume that a single-handed yachtsman could be of material assistance if he found himself on board a big craft; hence the advantage of fostering the art of boat-sailing—a pastime of which the joys never pale—is incalculable both in peace and war. ”

“ Just then Mr. Murgatroyd, who was sitting on the roof of the deck-house determined to enjoy himself, inquired: "Won't she go any faster?"
"We can't do it without causing damage to other craft," replied Mr. Armitage.
"Then I'm hanged if I keep the boat on the Thames, if I can't get more out of her than that," was the rejoinder. "Look at that launch, she's going twice as fast as we are."
By the time Mr. Armitage had endeavoured to explain that the difference in displacement and shape of the submerged surfaces had everything to do with speed, the Olivette was approaching Iffley Lock. ”

“ At high water the harbour-master came alongside, and, having collected dues, suggested that the Rosalie should shift her berth.
"You'll be all right between those two buoys," he said. "You'll probably ground at low water, but the mud's soft, so you won't heel there."
For the next three days it blew hard. The Sea Scouts endured the forced detention with fortitude, but whenever they landed and walked to the pier-head the aspect of the English Channel rather made them wonder whether it was going to be rough for weeks. As far as the eye could see, there were tumultuous, white-crested waves. ”

“ Sheltering in the wheel-house, with his feet hard against the edge of a locker, was Mr. Jackson, disconsolately surveying the inclined plane represented by the listing yacht's wet deck.
"Think she'll lift to the flood tide, Armitage? Frankly, I don't think she will."
"There's a chance she won't," agreed Mr. Armitage. "She's heeled more since I left you. The difficulty is, that we can't run a warp ashore till there's enough water to float the dinghy. By that time——"
He broke off abruptly.
"I'll manage it, sir," volunteered Peter. "I don't suppose the mud's softer than it is at Keyhaven." ”

“ The two men on the pier-head-who had been keeping their telescopes fixed seaward were now in a state of activity, shouting and gesticulating to an approaching vessel, which, however, was invisible from the sloping deck of the Rosalie.
A few minutes later, pitching and rolling heavily, a large motor-boat staggered in between the pier-heads, her deck glistening with water that came inboard over her bows.
"She's the Olivette!" exclaimed Stratton.
"Looks uncommonly like her," agreed Mr. Armitage. "But she's one of a class. May be one of the same type." ”

“ Woodleigh had chosen tails, and he had lost.
"Nemesis, ship-keeper!" exclaimed the Patrol-leader. "Never mind. Basking on deck and watching the boats go by is preferable to the cinema and a jolly sight more healthy."
At half-past nine the rest of the crew came back, and after supper turned in. So tired were they with the long day in the open air that they all slept like logs, until Mr. Armitage bawled in nautical style into the fo'c'sle: "Show a leg, show a leg, and shine! Sun's over the fore-yard!"
"Can we bathe, sir?" asked Roche.
The Scoutmaster gave a glance at the swift-flowing current. ”

“ Armitage earnestly. "If you do, you'll probably chuck it up as a bad job. Three-quarters of the stuff in books on coastal navigation isn't really necessary. It might be useful, but it's not essential."
"Then what is?" asked Mr. Murgatroyd.
"Common sense, resourcefulness, and an ability to read a chart," replied the Scoutmaster. "These, in my opinion, are the essentials, coupled with a nautical instinct. One must be born, not made, for the sea, you know."
"My innate nautical instinct seems to be developing rather late in life," declared Mr. Murgatroyd. ”

“ Too many fishing-boats about."
"You can't leave her at anchor," remarked Mr. Jackson.
"No, but I can beach her on the mud," replied Mr. Armitage. "Tide's rising. We can send a tug to finish the job. Stand by to cast off," he ordered, raising his voice.
With the now strong flood tide the Rosalie towed the tramp through Brownsea Roads into the sheltered Wych Channel. Here the hawser was let go, and the Pent-y-coote took the soft mud, while the yacht, relieved of her heavy burden, turned, and, passing through the Little Channel, was soon berthed safely alongside Poole quay. ”

“ Easy astern!"
Thinking that perhaps it was an inexperienced oarsman who had got in the way of the Olivette, the Scoutmaster hurried to the wheel-house.
"What's wrong, Warkworth?"
"I don't know, sir," replied the perplexed youth. "The river seems to stop here. There's no lock and no way out."
Too late the Scoutmaster remembered that there was such a thing as Culham Cut, one of those artificial waterways that avoid a long detour of the tortuous stream. This one had been missed, and the Olivette's progress was stopped by the weir of Sutton Courtney. ”

“ It was early in the afternoon when the Olivette passed through the great lock at Teddington, and entered the tidal waters of the Thames. It was now just after high water, and the mud-banks on the northern shore were covered.
"Can't we increase speed, sir?" asked Stratton, noticing several fussy, high-powered steam-tugs making quite a swell.
"Connect up all four cylinders, and see how she takes it," assented the Scoutmaster. "Don't give her full throttle. Many a good motor has been spoiled by opening out before the bearings have been properly run in." ”

“ The prospect of falling into the swift-flowing river, even in a mere three feet of water, was not sufficiently tempting.
"I'll get ashore somehow," said Hepburn, who, holding himself responsible for the grounding, was anxious to "make good". "I'll use the boat-hook stave as a leaping-pole."
"How will you get back?" asked Stratton.
"Walk along the tow-path and get on board at the next lock," replied the resourceful Alan.
"Which will be Sonning," decided Mr. Armitage. "We know our way back, but we don't know what's down stream. It's too risky in the dark. Right-o; carry on, Alan." ”

“ I can't run her at any speed."
He paused to watch a long, lean motor-launch glide past, overtaking the Olivette with the greatest ease, yet leaving hardly any wash in her wake.
"That's the sort of thing," he continued.
"For the Thames above London," agreed the Scoutmaster. "I wouldn't care to take her down to the Nore, but this boat would go anywhere."
"I wonder if I would be a good sailor," remarked Mr. Murgatroyd.
"You'll be able to find that out later, if you wish," said Mr. Armitage. "With a competent engineer and coxswain, you ought to get heaps of pleasure out of her on the East Coast." ”

“ I thought of telegraphing to you at Yarmouth, but I knew you would have your work cut out with the Rosalie. The men I engaged at Brightlingsea—good fellows they were, too—couldn't get away, as they had to go fishing later on in the month, so I got hold of the two brigands you saw on board. Goodness only knows where they hail from. They certainly aren't East Coast men. However, I managed to get going, made Ramsgate, and found that you had just left. Held on, looking into Folkestone, Newhaven, and Shoreham on the chance of finding you, and finally came on here in half a gale of wind. ”

“ Armitage, "I think we can manage to spare you three hands, enough to work the Olivette round to the Solent. Lunch ready, Woodleigh?"
It was a bounteous repast in spite of the deficiency of plates and dishes, for there had been heavy casualties in the pantry since the Rosalie left Yarmouth. Woodleigh, always a good cook, simply excelled himself, and Mr. Murgatroyd, drawing a comparison between the culinary arrangements on the Rosalie and the Olivette, felt decidedly envious. ”

“ The return of the foraging-party diverted conversation into other channels, and by the time the Olivette was scrubbed down and tidied up, the Sea Scouts were quite ready for tea.
"There's no dinghy," observed Hepburn.
"No; but it doesn't matter," replied Mr. Armitage, "unless, of course, we want to run out a rope. In ordinary circumstances we can bring the boat alongside the bank if we want to land."
"What puzzles me," remarked Stratton, "is how we are going to turn. There's not room enough here. ”

“ Those fellows on the drifter will have to shorten their warps as the tide rises and pay out when it falls. We, being alongside the drifter, simply rise and fall with her."
"But she goes out of harbour at four in the morning," remarked Hepburn.
"And we'll have to shift," added Mr. Armitage. "That's what I want to do—to shift on a falling tide on the mud, then by six o'clock we'll be able to clear our propeller. Now, who's for the shore?"
The Sea Scouts, after a "wash and brush up", landed via the deck of the drifter. ”

“ Armitage, clad in oilskins, sou'wester, and sea-boots, made his way into the fo'c'sle—a matter of considerable difficulty, owing to the angle of the slippery ladder.
"Morning, lads!" he exclaimed. "I meant you to sleep as long as you liked, but the Rosalie won't let you, I see. Hallo! three still slumbering sweetly."
"What's happened, sir?" asked Roche.
"Nothing very serious, I hope," replied the Scoutmaster. "We've been driven on the edge of the mud by the strong east wind—it's blowing half a gale—and the tide has fallen. Consequently we're high and dry, and heeling rather badly." ”