WE LAND AT ACCRA 19 



town on much the same level in the background. On 

 closer acquaintance with Accra, those of you who 

 happen to know Yarmouth will discover that the two 

 towns have nothing in common except this similarity 

 of site, but I think you will agree with me that the 

 experience of landing at Accra on a calm day is very 

 like a pleasure trip in a row-boat at Yarmouth on a 

 day when the sea there is rough enough to make most 

 pleasure-seekers decide to remain on land, but not 

 unpleasantly rough for people who are very good 

 sailors. 



Fortunately the sea is very calm to-day. Are you 

 ready to go ashore ? Here come the surf-boats, and 

 from what I know of our host he will be in one of 

 the first of them that arrives alongside, one of the 

 first of friends from the shore to welcome friends 

 aboard. 



The popular Captain is on the look-out to see us off; 

 he adds to his many kindnesses to us by acting as 

 our light porter. The equally good-natured purser, 

 who has volunteered to superintend the'' transhipment 

 of our heavier baggage, presently rejoins us armed 

 with his camera. The Mammie Chair, draped with 

 the Union Jack, awaits us ; it reminds us of a swinging 

 boat made for four, such as we have seen at village 

 fairs. In we step, the first batch of us ... the next 

 moment we are hoisted into mid-air to the tune of a 

 donkey engine at work, and dumped overboard ... at 

 the end of a rope we hang dangling in space . . . 

 now we are dropping down, down, the little boats 

 below look a long way out of the line of our fall, 

 and the steamer grows to a mountainous height. A 

 second later we recognise the voice of the Chief Officer 

 shouting commands from somewhere up above, hear 



