IN WINDJAMMERS 



when he got tired of reading penny novelettes, of which 

 he had a vast store, he would beg me to sit down and 

 tell him tales — true and fictitious. It was pardonable 

 to romance a little, as embellishments appealed more 

 to his lay mind than absolutely truthful impressions. 

 The amount of thousands I talked about were never 

 contained in the richest Spanish galleon which roved 

 the main. He would sit open-mouthed and listen 

 to it all. Of course I instilled a certain amount of 

 love interest into some of the stories. At last the 

 good fellow thought he might give up the sea and take 

 a farm if he could always know where to find me. 



There was only one occasion really when I could not 

 find anyone to talk sport ; that also was at sea, after 

 a three weeks' trip I had from Newcastle, N.S.W., to 

 Rockhampton, Queensland. A little broken in health, 

 I was induced to go in a certain sailing barque, the 

 captain of which owned her. She was nicely found, 

 and I had a comfortable cabin, which I viewed two 

 days before I sailed. Captain M. was a north of 

 Ireland man. I went on board. We were towed out 

 of the harbour and off we went. The weather was 

 ideal; we never had a rough day the whole time, 

 and the breeze never got us beyond seven knots. On 

 having the first meal with him the reek of onions in 

 the " saloon " was so terrible that I had to gasp for 

 breath ; however, the opening of the skylights, to an 

 extent, modified this. I shall never forget that odour 

 of onions as long as I live, not the cooked article, for 

 the galley was thirty feet right away for'ard. I had 

 discovered that he had filled his spare cabins — I was 

 the only passenger — ^with sacks of onions, which he 

 was taking up as part of his private spec, to our 

 destination. I will pass over little instances such as 

 giant cockroaches — quite harmless, but disconcerting 



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