90 THE LOG OF THE 



no log out. Imagine my surprise (and everyone else's) when at six 

 we sighted Boston Light. It was then an easy matter to steam up 

 the harbor and find the anchorage off City Point. All hands went 

 ashore, some to go home and others to telephone. We sat around the 

 deck half the night much too excited to sleep. There we were after a 

 five thousand mile sail and nobody particularly glad it was over. 



Newspapers, ice-cream sodas, trolley cars and boys on roller 

 skates all reminded us of the winter ahead. After three months of 

 perfect companionship and a life without worries the change to a 

 big city is too sudden. Someone should be stationed a hundred miles 

 off shore to put aboard copies of the Boston Advertiser and thus re- 

 mind the sailor of everything unpleasant he will have to face on re- 

 entering civilization. 



