The Breath of the Southern Seas 91 



A boat is the only instrument by which 

 man can move over any considerable part 

 of the earth's surface. 



When I bought my first boat, and became 

 amphibious, I was an efficient inhabitant 

 of the world. The summer before I had 

 chartered a schooner-rigged sharpie, sailed 

 bravely out of a shallow inlet from the 

 Pamlico Sound, skimmed up the coast fif- 

 teen miles to the Oregon Inlet, and tried to 

 come in. Caught by a squall in the act 

 of threading our way through the shoals 

 of this dangerous and crooked channel, we 

 were held there for twenty-three hours be- 

 tween two mountains of breakers with only 

 a quarter inch rusty chain anchoring us to 

 life. 



I said then that if I ever owned a boat it 

 should have a wheel at one end of it and a 

 machine to drive it. So I bought a naphtha 

 launch in New York. 



We named her the Chattahoochee for the 



