SAILING CRAFT 121 



mendous blast lays her far over, and the sea 

 is a lather of foam to windward. The skipper 

 conies on deck, takes a quick look round, and 

 shouts at the full pitch of his lungs : ' All 

 hands shorten sail ! ' Up come the other 

 watch in their oilskins, which they have care- 

 fully lashed round their wrists and above their 

 knees to keep the water out. Taking in sail 

 is no easy matter now. Every one tails on, 

 puts his back into it, and joins the chorus of 

 the hard-breathed chanty. The human voices 

 sound like fitful screams of seabirds, heard in 

 wild snatches between the volleying gusts; 

 while overhead the sails are booming like 

 artillery, as the spilling lines strain to get the 

 grip. ' Now then, starboard watch, up with 

 your sail and give the larboard watch a dressing 

 down ! ' Yo ho ! Yo hay ! Yo ho oh I 

 Up she goes! A hiss, a crash, a deafening 

 thud, and a gigantic wave curls overhead and 

 batters down the toiling men, who hang on for 

 their lives and struggle for a foothold. ' Up 

 with you ! ' yells the mate, directly the tangled 

 coil of yellow-clad humanity emerges like a half- 

 drowned rat, ' Up with you, boys, and give her 

 hell!' Yoho! Yohay! Yohoharrhh! 

 ' Turn that ! ' 'All fast, sir ! ' ' Aloft and 

 roll her up! Now then, starbowlines, show 



