NORTH POLE OF THE WINDS 



On the twentieth we are still held tight in the 

 jaws of the straits though this is the thirteenth 

 day out of Holstensborg. We are making perhaps 

 a little headway, though very little. At midnight 

 on the twenty-first there was great commotion on 

 deck. The head wind which had so long held us 

 in irons had fallen off and in a near calm the fore- 

 sail was flapping and the traveller going over with 

 a bang, first on the port and then on the starboard 

 side. This calm was soon followed by a full gale 

 in the northeast and we were running all night 

 before it. 



When I emerged from the forecastle gang- 

 way in the early morning the sight which met my 

 eyes was one I shall not soon forget. The Cap- 

 tain was at the wheel, his sou'wester gone and 

 strands of his long thin hair flying free. The great 

 billows of a following sea reared their black masses 

 far above the taffrail, but just before they broke 

 the good ship would seem to slip out from under, 

 so that only perhaps a foot of the heavy seas would 

 come aboard and sweep about the Captain's legs. 

 The bowsprit was dipping into the seas but with 

 our canvas shortened to a riding sail and a jumbo 

 jib, the ship was making eight knots. Riding 

 out the seas. Captain Bob was in his element 

 like a Viking of the olden times. How I have 



104. 



