In Winter Quarters 



in her was unimpaired, and, sure 

 enough, at the appointed hour Nan- 

 tucket shoals were safely passed. 



That one sharp stroke at this time 

 o' night means 12:30, but I must 

 finish this cigar. We once spent a 

 half-hour in a small boat off Gibraltar, 

 looking for another liner in a real 

 honest-to-goodness fog. The sea was 

 calm enough that afternoon, but the 

 oarsmen certainly did look like typical 

 throat-slitting pirates of the erstwhile 

 famous Barbary Coast variety, and 

 Billy knew at once that we were to be 

 robbed and murdered out there all 

 alone with those two swarthy brutes, 

 and our bodies duly pickled in good 

 Mediterranean brine. After paddling 

 aimlessly around for what seemed an 

 hour the deep call of the steamer was 

 finally heard through the vapory banks, 

 and the moustachioed boatmen had so 

 little conception of their own real char- 

 acter as drawn by one of their pas- 

 sengers as to soon swing up alongside 

 [166] 



