CHAPTER VI 

 "our rudder's gone!" 



IT'S good-bye to our Arctic himtiiig, thought I. 

 Over the stern I could see the broken stock and 

 feel the tiller slap uselessly from side to side. 

 • The wind showed no intention of abating, and we were 

 about forty miles off shore with no means of steering the 

 old craft. The waves were sweeping down on us mast 

 high and it was fortunate that the schooner was lightly 

 laden or she would have had a hard time in the seaway. 

 The saving factor in the situation was that the wind was 

 now blowing in a direction which would carry us through 

 Bering Strait. If we could steer the vessel to leeward 

 we might have a chance to save the ship by getting 

 under the lee of East Cape or, if weather permitted, of 

 running into Port Clarence about one himdred and 

 fifty miles distant on the Alaskan coast. At Port 

 Clarence the small town of Teller offered a chance of 

 repairing the damage. Should we not be successful in 

 this attempt we might be dashed against the precipitous 

 sides of the Diomede Islands in Bering Strait or be cast 

 ashore on the Alaskan coast north of Cape Prince of 

 Wales. "In case we're thrown up on the low sandy 

 beaches near Cape Prince of Wales," remarked Ed 

 Born with a quizzical smile, "we can get ashore with- 

 out wetting our feet." Then it would be simply a 

 question of walking a few hundred miles to reach means 

 of conmiunication with the outside world. But the 

 vessel would be lost and om* Arctic trip ended. 



(85) 



