Hay 23, 1903.1 
FOREST AND STREAM. 
v.— Pemaqoid to New Havefl. 
The object of this cruise was to bring the Lapwing to 
her home port between Sept. 2 and Sept. 22, with as much 
pka.sure as possible on the way. The friend who started 
\\\ih me, H. W. R, is a well-tested woodsman, quick m 
expedient and cool in a crisis, but of limited experience 
ill cruising. I give the log almost as it was written, add- 
ing remarks, in parenthesis and reserving general com- 
ments to the end. 
Tuesdav, Sept. 2.— Morning foggy, but clearing, wind 
W.N W. Dropped the mooring at 12, taking the usual 
westerly course past Ram Island and the Cuckolds. We 
took tricks of an hour at the tiller. (This custom we 
observed very punctually and I found it a great relief 
to the monotony.) As the wind was ahead and we could 
. not make the mouth of the Kennebec, we stood up 
Sheepscot Bay and anchored in Herman's Harbor at 
five. (A ledge runs partly across the entrance, covered 
at high- water; otherwise this is a good small-boat 
harbor.) Distance, 10^ miles. 
Sept. 3. — Up at four and, as there were two to divide 
the work, under way at' five with everything in order for 
the day. Light northwest wind to Sequin, then light 
southwest breeze, which gradually backed round to south 
and increased, so that we reacheed straight across to 
Cape Elizabeth outside of Half Way Rock. Anchored in 
Wood Island harbor at five, exactly 12 hours under way. 
Distance, 36>4 miles. 
Sept, 4.— Blowing^ hard southwest, dead ahead, and 
thick. Some vessels came in, but none went out. At 
anchor all day. Late in the afternoon there was a sud- 
den shift of wind to northwest, followed by a beautiful 
golden sunset. - 
Sept. 5. — Under way at 5.10, wind northwest and fresh. 
Carried \vhole sail to Cape Porpoise, then luffed up into 
smooth water and put in one reef. The wind increased 
and off Bald Head Cliff we put in a second reef and 
changed jib for staysail. Off Portsmouth we saw two 
naval boats racing; one was rigged with two sliding 
gunters and seemed to be having the better of the other, 
which carried two standing lugs. I had never seen either 
rig before. Both boats had large crews and stood up 
well in the strong breeze. So far we had made a fine run, 
iuUy five knots an hour, but about this time I noticed 
that the tender was filling from the splashing over her 
bow. I put off bailing, hoping that she would go all 
right, but as we headed more to the eastward she took a 
wide sheer and capsized. I laid the boat to and hauled 
the tender alongside. F. took hold of her gunwale to turn 
her over and did it, but his left thumb was frightfully 
jammed between the boats, the nail being almost com- 
pletely torn out. As the tender went astern, the oars 
lloaled out, but I paid no attention to this, being occupied 
with binding up the wound. Then I started for the near- 
est harbor, This was Newburyport, some three miles 
away to leeward, and I anticipated no difficulty in get- 
ting in, but we met a most extraordinary head tide be- 
tween the jetties, against which I could make no head- 
way. As I was beating across, the tender, Avhich I had 
only partially bailed, turned over again and I anchored. 
Righted the tender with the boat hook, got my anchor 
with very great difficulty in the strong tide and tried it 
again. Failure; anchored again, and here we lay for 
three hours within sight of a trolley line which would 
have taken us quickly to a surgeon, but unable to get 
to .shore because of the loss of the oars. It was a long 
and -wretched afternoon. Finally, about six, a tug came 
into the harbor and, when I explained the situation, 
towed us up and under the pilotage of one of the men, 
whose Idndness to strangers I shall not soon forget, we 
fell into the hands of a very skillful surgeon. Happily it 
proved that amputation, which we had feared, was un- 
necessary, though the injury will leave permanent marks. 
Distance, 45 miles. (First, haul the tender alongside and 
bail her before she is half full. Second, lash in the oars. 
Third, use the boat hook to turn her back, if she does 
capsize. I wish I could have learned these elementary 
rules at a less price.) 
Sept. 6-7. — In Newburyport harbor, at anchor off the 
yacht clubhouse. With much reluctance we decided that 
F. must. go home by train and I therefore telegraphed to 
White of New Haven {qiieni nomino honoris causa and 
because he is known to hundreds of Yale men) to send 
me the man who had made the trip with me in 1900. He 
arrived very promptly on Sunday morning and in the 
afternoon I set F. ashore, both of us deeply disappointed 
at this termination of his cruising. (But we have since 
exchanged vows to explore Buzzard's Bay together next 
summer.) 
Monday, Sept. 8. — ^An early start and a slow sail around 
Cape Ann. Wind south and light Hoping^ to cros.s 
directly to Provincetown the next day we did not push 
on to Marblehead, but. turned in early to Gloucester. 
(This cost us a whole day. We counted too hopefully on 
crossing the Bay.) Anchored in the cove at the head of 
the harbor at 2.30. Distance, 2S-J4 miles. 
To me this is the most interesting harbor on the coast 
aiid a fleet of iishing schooners is a finer sight than a 
fieiet of yachts. Put a, pair of them alongside arid the 
yacht looks like a toy, as indeed she is. 
Sept. 9. — Foggy and breeze late from S.S.E. Stood 
close-hauled along the shore toward Marblehead, look- 
ing at the fine summer houses. Toward noon the wind 
backed to southeast and increased, so that we had to 
give up Scituate. About 12.30, rounding the Graves, we 
stood up Hypocrite channel for Boston. This was an 
interesting sail and consoled me for the short day's run; 
Anchored near the wharves of the N. Y. and N. E. 
Transportation Co. and I made a hasty rush, the details 
of which 1 now recall with amusement, for the Southern 
I'erminal' Station, where I hoped to intercept my family 
on their way to New Haven. I was disappointed in this, 
but I learned some lessons in regard to the effect of 
wearing rough clothes. The conductor of the train hailed 
me in highly peremptory tones with "Hi, there ! Where 
are you going at?" and the well-dressed passengers, an 
acquaintance or two among them, did not even glance at 
me. Once before, on an earlier cruise, I was refused 
entrance to a hotel and was for a time under suspicion 
of stealing my own boat, and I consider myself qualified 
by these experiences to add a chapter to Stevenson's 
Inland Voyage. 
The storm signals (S.E.) were flying when I returned 
to the boat and the afternoon was made uncomfortable 
by the constant passing of tugs and steamers. Distance, 
28 miles. 
Sept. 10. — The weather looked threatening and w.e were 
not under way till 11. Passed the' new seven-master lying 
at anchor and had an easy sail to Scituate. Distance, 20 
miles. (The best anchorage is not behmd the break- 
water, but lip the harbor out of the swell.) 
Sept. II. — Under way at 5.30, wind light northwest. In 
the expectation of a shift to southwest we ran down close 
to the land for a slant to Provincetown. The wind came 
in, however, southeast and we had a. long slow beat 
across. Passed a lobsterman witlr an auxiliary engine in 
his boat. As soon as he got hold of the buoy, he set his 
wheel hard down and kept going in a small circle, haul- 
ing in the slack by hand. When the slack was gathered 
in, he put the warp over a snatch-block on a davit and 
then around a winch attached to the motor and so hauled 
the pot by machinery. I saw plenty of evidence this 
summer of the spread of the motor among fishermen, but 
nothing more ingenious than this. Reached Province- 
town at 6.15 and anchored on the western side of the 
harbor. Distance, 31J/2 miles. 
Sept 12 to 16.— Lay in Provincetown harbor, waiting 
for good weather and a pilot. This is, I believe, a not 
uncommon experience even for large yachts. The tedium 
of waiting was partly relieved by visits to the shore and 
talk with pleasant acquaintances and Avas, for one night 
at least, entirely dispelled by one of the dispensations of 
what P., a former Rhode Islander, sometimes calls Provi- 
dence-town. For this harbor, though fairly good for 
vessels, is a poor place for small boats. It is so wide 
that, if one anchors near the town, a strong southerly 
breeze puts him in a position of discomfort, and in a 
northeaster or an easterly gale there is practically very 
little shelter anywhere. One must be ready to shift 
anchorage with every change of weather. This charac- 
teristic of the harbor got us into the scrape of which I 
propose to make full confession.' Late on Friday the 
wind was coming strong from the southeast and it looked 
like bad weather. We therefore put in two reefs, to be 
ready for anything, and went over to the south side, 
anchoring directly opposite one of the old forts and, for 
extra assurance, putting down both anchors. Here we 
lay in comfort over Saturday; the storm signals were 
flying (S.E.) and we had no communication with the 
shore. Just before sunset there was a slight break in the 
sky to the northwest, but- it seemed to settle down again 
for a southeast blow, and our judgment appeared to be 
confirmed by the red lantern (easterly winds) at night on 
the signal pole, which we naturally interpreted to mean 
southeast. We turned in therefore as usual. About 11 
I woke to find the boat moving about in a lively fashion 
and the wind N. to N.N.E. ; we were on a lee shore and 
much too near the beach. The weather was as bad as 
possible, blowing hard, raining, black, intensely cold; 
^Ve waited an hour, not so much hoping for a change as 
dreading the trouble of doing anything. Then we went 
on deck; sounded; 6ft. and the tide half ebb. There was 
nothing for it but to get under way. We got the small 
anchor with some difficulty, set the mainsail two-reefed 
and both went forward to get the large anchor. It ap- 
peared to be impossible to break it out, though we were 
both straining on it and the boat was sheering violently 
to one side and the other ; in fact, it had come up from 
the hard bottom at once and we were- all the time hauling 
it against the bobstay. The utter blaclmess of the night 
and the violent motion of the boat partially explain a 
blunder which now seems incredible. When we dis- 
covered the facts, it was too late ; we got off on the wrong 
tack, touched, Avent on a little, touched again and finally 
paid off and stopped, broadside to the sea. We got the 
mainsail off at once, dropped the small anchor to bring 
her head to the wind when she floated and went below to 
wait. She was heeled over so much when she took the 
ground that she did not thump, and as the tide fell she 
went slowly down on her bilge. I felt great confidence 
in her strength, but it was, of course, possible that if 
the sea rose it would drive her sideways on the beach 
before the tide turned. Revolving these possibilities, 
we braced our bodies on the sloping bunks and braced 
our spirits with tobacco. For I could not cook, and 
pilot bread and sweet chocolate, though sustaining, 
are not comforting. As the tide came in and-the boat 
began to rise to an even keel, I kept an anxious eye 
upon Long Point Light, directly over the stern, for 
the first signs of swinging, and when at last the anchor 
held her and the light began to shift to the starboard 
quarter, our spirits rose with every thump. About 
3:30 we went on deck again, cleared up the tangled 
gear, set mainsail and staysail and clawed off" "like a 
pilot boat," as P. rem.arked. A substantial breakfast^ 
a warm drying sun and a general clear-up soon dis- 
sulved this little episode into a mere memory, amusing 
rather than dismal. 
Sept. 16. — Rounding the Cape, we intended to start 
early in the evening of Monday, the 15th, but the 
breeze was too light Under way at 1:15" A. M., -with 
a pilot aboard, wind light N., cold and clear. A s-low 
beat from Wood End to Race Point Outside there 
was a heavy easterly swell. which made it necessary to 
keep well off shore, and the wind was light all day, 
N. to N.N.E. It is almost impossible on this run not 
to feel impatient, and our progress was in reality slow; 
we passed Cape Cod Light (Highland) at 7. Nausett 
- about II, Chatham about 2:30. The Marconi station, 
on the Highlands, is very impressive; the four enor- 
mously high lattice-work towers seem the higher be- 
cause of the low building between them, and the strange 
structure somehow increases the desolation of this 
part of the Cape. As we neared Monomoy, about 4:30 
or 5, we could see lines of breaking seas ahead, and it 
seemed possible that we might have to go out around 
the Shovelful Shoal. But Bearse's Shoal began to cut 
off the swell, and some of the breakers proved to be 
only tide rips. My tables gave low water at 4:30, and 
I counted upon a favorable tide around Monomoy 
Point. Instead of that I found to my surprise, a strong 
head tide and heavy rips. At the Point the tide was 
too much for us, and we had to anchor to wait for 
slack water, which, by my tables, I supposed must be 
at 10:30. But, again, to my surprise and confusion, the 
tide rip began to smooth out soon after 7. (I worked 
this all out afterward. The turn of the current at 
Monomoy is some two or three hours after the turn 
of the tide. I now remember that I was confused by 
this two years ago, and I ought to have remembered 
It. Eldridge's tables give the time of currents; the 
Government tables do not.) While we were at anchor 
we had some soup and coffee, and at 7:30 we rounded 
Monomoy, stood N.N.W. to clear the Handerchief, 
and then kept off for Bishop and Clerk's Light. (The 
fishermen usually preserve the old English pronuncia- 
tion and call this Bishop and Clark's.) There was a 
full moon and moderate breeze; I took the tiller and 
sent P. and the pilot below. Having had only two 
hours sleep Saturday night and none on Monday night, 
I fell asleep while steering and had to stand up to keep 
awake. I was thus engaged at 12, when I entered upon 
my fiftieth year and I meditated somewhat on the ques- 
tion how long a man of my age should continue to 
ainuse himself by sailing about in a little boat. (As 
long as one can- get pleasure and renewed vigor out of 
It, I suppose.) As we neared Hyannis, about i, I 
called the men, went below and instantly fell into a 
sleep so profound that I did not waken when we came 
to anchor or when the two men came down into the 
little cabin and made up their berths. Distance 64^ 
miles; time, exactly 24 hours. 
As the passage around Cape Cod is rather long 
for small boats, I add a note or two: 
1. The chance of going into Chatham is too slight 
to be considered. I once followed a fishing boat in, 
but it was a quiet night and I^ might just as well have 
anchored outside, near Monomoy. This time I saw a 
fisherman stand in twice and turn back each time, evi- 
dently because the sea on the bars was too heavy. And 
this was on a clear day with moderate breeze. 
2. Yachts going south often wait a long time for a 
westerly or northwesterly wind, but the local pilots go 
in almost any kind of settled weather, and rather pre- 
fer a N.E. wind, because it is fair from Monomoy 
to Hyannis. 
3. A knowledge of the currents is extremely useful. 
Eldridge's tables give this information pretty fully. 
4. The coast from Chatham north is so clear that 
this part of the passage can easily be made at night. 
5. Pilots from Provincetown to Hyannis can be had 
for $12 to $15, and I suppose at Hyannis also, going 
north. After trying both methods I shall take a pilot 
for my little boat, not only for his knowledge and help, 
but also, I will say frankly, for his moral support. 
Anything more forbidding, desolate, depressing .than 
the outer side of Cape Cod I cannot imagine. 
Sept. 17. — Under way about 10, wind E. and strong. 
Passed Succonnesset Lightship at 11:25 (the captain 
gave us the exact time), and had a fast run with fair 
tide through Quick's Hole, but at the western end of 
the Llole we ran into the heaviest tide rip I have ever 
seen. The poor little boat was almost helpless; one 
sea would catch her before she had recoveded from 
the preceding, and solid water repeatedly came over 
the bow and broke against the cabin house, something 
that I have rarely seen on my boat. Reached New 
Bedford at 4:30. Distance, 40^2 miles. Chose a quiet 
anchorage on the Fairhaven side, away from steamers, 
and had a good night of sleep. 
Thursday, i8th. — We made two attempts to go out/ 
but found the sea and S.E. wind too heavy. 
Friday, 19th.— Wind E., but the clouds began to 
break about 7. Under way at 8. There was a strong 
swell outside and we kept oft' shore, expecting a shift 
of wind to the S.W. It did not come, and we had a 
rather uncomfortable day, rainy and thickish, with a 
very threatening sky. P.'s weather prophecies, which 
are apt to be pessimistic, became quite appalling. We 
held on, however, resisting the temptation to run into 
Newport and about 5 rounded Point Judith and an- 
chored behind the breakwater, very glad to get relief 
from the swell. Distance, 36 miles. (I suppose this 
is not a very good anchorage. The bottom is hard 
sand. We lay quietly in the angle of the breakwater; 
no other boat or vessel was in that night.) 
Sept. 20. — Wind E.N.E., sky overcast. Under way 
at 5:35. The swell continued, but the tide was fair 
and, when we got into Fisher's Island Sound, very 
strong, so that we made a rapid run. Off Black Point 
it turned against us, but the wind had risen and we 
made nearly five knots. In the rain squalls, of which 
there were four or five, I stood by to slack the peak 
halyards, but we carried whole sail all day and ran into 
Sachem's Head at 5:30, exactly. Distance, 57 miles in 
just 12 hours, the best run my boat has ever made. 
