CHAPTER XIX 



I SEE I have gushed a little about the blue sea in the 

 last chapter. This begins with storm, and gale, and 

 courage running into water in the grip of the 

 elements. 



Just now we are rolling in a loppy swell, high and irregular, 

 but there's no wind to speak of. We are right round to W. 

 and S. of St Michael and we see the island faintly to north 

 to windward, distant some eight miles; it gives us shelter 

 from the remains of a north-east gale that sprang up last 

 night, and is only now dying away this afternoon. 



Between the time it rose and fell we had too much time to 

 think and little enough to act. 



As I said over the page, we were last night drifting north, 

 with a land wind from the island south of us ; and at about 

 ten, I and Captain Henriksen had turned in, planning and 

 hoping for fine weather and whales in the morning ; at one- 

 fifteen I heard the whistle in his cabin blown from the bridge 

 and guessed a change had come the wind had gone round 

 he was on deck at once, I waited a little and followed. And 

 sure enough, without the least warning, the wind had gone 

 right round to north-east and was rapidly rising, driving 

 us towards these beautiful villages and cliffs and bay and 

 volcanic mountain dead to leeward in pitch dark. Only the 

 village lights and a small shore light could we see, bidding 

 us anything but a welcome. 



The half-hour we spent drifting towards the cliffs, specu- 

 lating whether our so far rather tricky motor would start, 

 was memorable. The waves rapidly grew large and fierce 

 in their sweep, the phosphorescent crests in the blackness 

 repeated the lines of lights of the villages. 



. . . Fortunately the engine started all right, or these 

 notes would have to have been continued about mermaids 

 under the surf ; I suppose all hands knew that if the engine 



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