190 A DESCENT INTO PERPETUAL NIGHT 



tire cosmos in the entry to a new world, accidents like 

 these I am narrating, instead of being a source of worry 

 or distrust, arouse only a feeling of greater security and 

 confidence. Nothing insures a better seat on a horse than 

 having been bucked or run away with. 



To conclude the account of our rehearsal dive, we were 

 plucked forth from our four feet of submergence, dried 

 out, fastened in properly and for some time sat patiently 

 22 feet down on the muddy bottom of St. Georges har- 

 bor, in dry silence, while the deck crew was coached in 

 various activities. 



Prophecy for August seventh was squalls and uncertain 

 winds. For no especial reason I selected it as a possible first 

 day at sea, and the night before ordered steam up in 

 the tug and the boilers of the barge. At five o'clock dawn 

 a glance at the slender, motionless cedar-tips beyond my 

 veranda justified my gamble. After a hasty breakfast we 

 chugged down harbor in the SkJnk in pursuit of the an- 

 cient Ready, with her precious globe of ultramarine just 

 showing above the bulwarks and shining in the rain-washed 

 air. Farther ahead the great towing cable alternately be- 

 came taut and slacked off, now dipping below the surface, 

 now snapping up into steel-like rigidity, flicking a vertical 

 wave of foam into the air. The tug threaded its way 

 through the narrow Hole-in-the-wall and we lifted 

 quietly on the gentle, breathing swell of the open ocean. 



Gentle though the swell was, and flat calm as the sea 

 appeared, when we transferred to the Ready, the rise and 



