THE GREAT MARCH GALE 231 



Uncle Tom wallowed about just off the Head, until 

 suddenly I saw my chance of getting into the Bay and 

 I took it like a starving dog snaps a bone. I ran out of 

 the bad weather into the fairly smooth water of Bridling- 

 ton Bay, sheltered by the Head, and saw all around a 

 great fleet of ships, many of them crippled. At night 

 they looked like a town lit up. 



" Many a fine smack was by that time lying on the 

 bed of the Dogger, with her crew, mostly in The Cemetery. 

 Even in the sheltered Bay a lot of the vessels dragged 

 their anchors and went ashore. 



" There have been many dreadful gales on the North 

 Sea within living memory ; but that March breeze is 

 always spoken of as being the worst as far as smacksmen 

 are concerned. The heaviest loss fell on Hull and 

 Grimsby, and when on that sorry Sunday I got the Uncle 

 Tom safely into Hull, I went to see the crippled smacks 

 which had managed, like myself, to run back to safety, I 

 found that they entirely filled four docks, and some of 

 them were so badly beaten and damaged that it was 

 wonderful that they had escaped at all. It was pitiful to 

 see the battered craft but even that was easier to look 

 on than to go into streets where nearly every house 

 had orphans and a widow. You can patch ships up well 

 enough, and make them as strong as ever they were 

 sometimes stronger ; but you can't do much with broken 

 hearts and there were plenty of 'em after that big 

 breeze in March. 



" As for the Uncle Tom, she got into port without so 

 much as a scratch. Many men had lost their lives ; a 

 few had lost their nerve and that is something, I can 

 tell you, for a North Sea smacksman. 



