SEA-WRACK 15 



audience is beginning to jeer and to threaten to 

 return to the unfinished no trumps, or the final 

 chapter of '* The Lure of Love." Near the 

 water level as I am, I can yet see ahead a big 

 ' slick ' of golden brown, and I wait. But the 

 bow dips farther and farther away and I almost 

 give up hope. Then I look up appealingly to 

 the bridge and catch a twinkle in the Captain's 

 eye. Even as I look he motions to the wheel- 

 man and the second succeeding dip of the bow 

 slews it nearer the aquatic golden field. Still 

 more it swings to starboard and at last crashes 

 down into the very heart of the dense mass of 

 weed. The frothing water alongside is thick 

 with the tangle of floating vegetation, and it is 

 impossible to miss. I throw and lean far over, 

 dragging the grapple until its arms are packed 

 full. Then with all my strength I draw up, 

 hand over hand, leaning far out so it will not 

 bang against the side, and dump the dripping 

 mass on the deck. My helper instantly frees the 

 prongs and I make a second cast and get 

 another rich haul before the last of the 

 field of weed drifts astern and tarnishes 

 the emerald foam of the propeller churned 

 wake. 



