130 THE CALL OF THE SEA 



Our run for the day had been 271 knots, which we 

 thought a wonderful run, though it has, of course, 

 been exceeded by many ships. For this ship it 

 was an exceptional run. The wind was on the 

 quarter, her best point of sailing, and there was 

 enough wind for a glutton. Our captain had the 

 reputation of being a " cracker-on," and on this 

 occasion he drove her till she groaned. For that 

 one wonderful day we staggered and swooped, and 

 bounded in wild leaps, and burrowed down and 

 shivered, and anon rose up shaking. The wind 

 roared up aloft and boomed in the shrouds, and 

 the sails bellied out as stiff as iron. We tore 

 through the sea in great jumps — there is no other 

 word for it. She seemed to leap clear from one 

 green roaring ridge to come smashing down upon 

 the next. I have been in a fast steamer — a very 

 fast turbine steamer — doing more than twenty 

 knots, but she gave me no sense of great speed. 

 In this old sailing ship the joy of the hurry was 

 such that we laughed and cried aloud. The noise 

 of the wind booming, and the clack, clack, clack 

 of the sheet-blocks, and the ridged seas roaring 

 past us, and the groaning and whining of every 

 block and plank, were like tunes for a dance. We 

 seemed to be tearing through it at ninety miles an 

 hour. Our wake whitened and broadened, and 

 rushed away aft in a creamy fury. We were run- 

 ning here, and hurrying there, taking a small pull 



