CHAPTER VI 



THE OPEN SEA 



ONE'S first impression of the open sea, gained 

 from a steamer's deck, is usually not too happy. 

 The mind is distracted or it is dull, even if the 

 body be not racked, and a sorry conclusion about 

 the sea is a common result. It is a dreary waste 

 of waters. The horizon rim makes a perfect circle 

 about one, the sky is a great arch overhead, and 

 there is nothing to be seen but an occasional 

 school of porpoises or the misty form of some 

 sailing craft straining along the sky-line. 



The nouveau thinks the whole affair monoto- 

 nous and, indeed, at first glance variety does 

 seem lacking. Yet in reality there is not an 

 hour when the wind does not shift the form of 

 the waves, not an hour when the light and color 

 of the water are not changing, not an hour from 

 dawn to dawn when the uneasy, faceted surface 

 is not throwing back reflections of the sky in a 

 thousand variegated hues. The sea and the sky 

 are always changing. What appears at first a 

 113 



Firtt im 

 prestimt- 



chang*. 



