ii4 NATURE NEAR LONDON 



wave rises, and, repulsed, rushes outwards. At each 

 stroke, as the weight swings towards the prow, there is 

 just the least faint depression at its stem as the boat 

 travels. Whirlpool after whirlpool glides from the oars, 

 revolving to the rear with a threefold motion, round and 

 round, backwards and outwards. The crew impart their 

 own life to their boat ; the animate and inanimate be- 

 come as one, the boat is no longer wooden but alive. 



If there be a breeze a fleet of white sails comes round 

 the willow-hidden bend. But the Thames yachtsmen 

 have no slight difficulties to contend with. The capri- 

 cious wind is nowhere so thoroughly capricious as on the 

 upper river. Along one mile there may be a spanking 

 breeze, the very next is calm, or with a fitful puff coming 

 over a high hedge, which flutters his pennant, but does 

 not so much as shake the sail. Even in the same mile 

 the wind may take the water on one side, and scarcely 

 move a leaf on the other. But the current is always 

 there, and the vessel is certain to drift. 



When at last a good opportunity is obtained, just as 

 the boat heels over, and the rushing bubbles at the prow 

 resound, she must be put about, and the flapping foresail 

 almost brushes the osiers. If she does not come round 

 if the movement has been put off a moment too long 

 the keel grates, and she is aground immediately. It is 

 nothing but tacking, tacking, tacking a kind of stitching 

 the stream. 



Nor can one always choose the best day for the 

 purpose ; the exigencies of business, perhaps, will not 

 permit, and when free, the wind, which has been scatter- 

 ing tiles and chimney-pots and snapping telegraph wires 

 in the City all the week, drops on the Saturday to 

 nothing. He must possess invincible patience, and at 

 the same time be always ready to advance his vessel even 



