64 THE LAST CRUISE OF THE CARNEGIE 



of instruments with those ashore, for in most of the ports of call 

 this was to occupy a large portion of their time — especially where 

 there were permanent observatories like those in Germany, Peru, 

 Samoa, and Japan. 



At dusk on May 5, all hands were summoned to heave up the 

 anchor for the short trip to Hampton Roads — our first passage 

 under sail. A stiff, steady breeze from astern bowled us along 

 in grand style. Although we were not carrying full sail, we had 

 the rare satisfaction of overtaking several steam vessels. 



The three kittens prowled about over the sleeping forms of the 

 members of the Laboratory staff in Washington, who had come 

 along to test the instruments. There were no berths to spare, 

 so these men had to sprawl over the deck on air-mattresses. But 

 there were some of us who could not force ourselves to go below 

 for well-earned sleep. The moonlight shone gorgeously on the 

 smooth curves of the square sails, and the unthrobbing motion of 

 the vessel was exhilarating. 



We were anchored off Newport News by eight o'clock next 

 morning, and were greeted at once by "bum-boats," little launches 

 which were to be our inseparable companions in every port. 

 They offered laundry service, taxis, provisions — everything we 

 needed, and some things we did not. 



Everyone was impatient to put to sea, so it was a great disap- 

 pointment that we were forced to go into dry-dock here. The 

 oscillator of the sonic depth-finder required some changes, and 

 Mr. Russell of the Navy Yard in Washington had come to per- 

 sonally supervise the work. It rained incessantly, many of us 

 caught colds, and there was little to do after work was finished 

 but to poke around in the cold cabin, stowing our personal effects 

 for the sea-voyage. 



Mr, Gilbert, Administrative Secretary of the Carnegie Institu- 

 tion, and Mr. Fleming, the Acting Director of our Department 

 in Washington, came down to see us off on May 10. We were 

 towed out into the Roads, and set sails, while photographers on 

 the tug made pictures. The breeze was just sufficient to give 

 us steerage way. We had cast off our last ties with shore, and 

 were at last headed for the open sea. Our last sight of land was 

 Cape Henry at sunset. 



