A COLD FOWLING CRUISE 211 



It took all hands a good twenty-five minutes to clear 

 the decks and well of snow and ice. The snow shovelling 

 was warm and exhilarating work, and personally I 

 rather enjoyed it ; but when it came to getting in the 

 anchor, unfurling frozen sails, and hauling on ice-sheathed 

 halyards, it was quite a different story, and I suddenly 

 remembered that the guns wanted a coat of vaseline to 

 keep out the sea water. Having lent a hand on the 

 peak-halyards, I went below to attend to the all-im- 

 portant matter of waterproofing the locks and barrels 

 of the 8 -bores and cripple-stoppers ; an occupation I did 

 not finish until the yacht was well under weigh and 

 tearing along towards the North Sea, with a couple of 

 reefs in her mainsail, and with her lee-rail just awash. 



It was the captain's intention to sail down to the 

 Blackwater, as that estuary was reported to be full of 

 wildfowl ; but there was such a heavy sea running outside 

 the Mouse that a Trinity House yacht, which passed 

 within hailing distance of the Seamew, made quite bad 

 weather of it. He therefore decided to go about and 

 run for Yantlett, which snug, albeit somewhat muddy, 

 little haven, we reached, just in time to " save water 

 in," dropping anchor off the coastguard cutter. 



Leaving the captain aboard to prepare the midday 

 meal (the " crew " had been sent ashore with a huge 

 marketing basket), I took my old 12-bore and went 

 ashore in the dinghy to see what I could pick up in the 

 shape of fowl on the salt-marshes and foreshores. Should 

 the owner of the neighbouring marshes happen to read 



