A COLD FOAVLING CEUISE 207 



Egypt Bay or Yantlett Creek without delay. The 

 tide being very nearly slack, the dock dues being 

 paid, and, following close in the wake of a topsail- 

 barge which also happened to be leaving the basin 

 to sail down-along on the ebb, we hugged the Kentish 

 shore as closely as was advisable, passing the fairway 

 buoys on the port hand. 



The moon was well up, but owing to the dark masses 

 of snow-clouds, which drove at a furious pace across 

 the heavens, she threw but a fitful light upon the grey 

 foam-flecked tideway, and it was by the merest accident 

 that we escaped being piled up on a barge lying at 

 anchor, the crew of which had neglected to hoist a 

 riding light. The bitter nor'-easter strengthened every 

 moment, and before we passed Mucking Light it had 

 increased to almost a gale. The third reef had scarcely 

 been tied down in the mainsail, when down came the snow 

 in a perfect blizzard, obscuring every object lying a dozen 

 yards beyond the bowsprit end. The one-man " crew " 

 suggested that it would be a wise proceeding to run 

 into Hole Haven for shelter, as the creek would afford 

 snug and safe anchorage while the storm held. Gilson's 

 suggestion was an excellent one, and as neither my 

 sailing companion nor myself had ever entered the 

 haven, Gilson took the tiller, and immediately made 

 a board over to the Essex side. 



" Do you think you can find your way into the 

 haven in this snow ? " asked the captain of the '' crew," 

 as the latter took his place at the helm. 



