But early the next morning I felt Eryholme start to 

 rock. The wind began its familiar song. When we arrived 

 on deck, tliere was quite a sea rolling. It was no use. 



We ate breakfast and disconsolately started back to 

 West End. This time we took a direct compass course and 

 found that, instead of the sixty-eight miles of hen tracks 

 produced by CeflFy's bottom navigation, our return course 

 was only twenty-eight miles long, leading us straight to 

 the dock. 



If we had any thoughts of going back for further 

 search in that area, the wind's reappearance soon changed 

 our minds. Eryholme remained tied up at the dock in 

 West End for nearly two weeks while the anemometer 

 registered velocities of from eighteen to forty knots. 

 Webby finally left on the bi-weekly airplane to Palm 

 Beach, to resume the less exciting but more remunerative 

 business of diving up scrap iron in the keys. A few days 

 later Ed and I flew to Miami, leaving Captain Budd and a 

 Bahamian boatman to bring Eryhohne back when the 

 winds should let up sufficiently. 



This was only the beginning of our search for the 

 elusive brass cannon. We were to return many times in 

 the coming years to these same banks, always with new 

 clues. It was amazing how many different people had ac- 

 tually seen the heavy barrels, never twice in the same 

 place, but unvaryingly somewhere within the confines of 

 the northern banks. 



46 Sea Diver 



