122 
THE CONDOR 
I Vor.. VII 
of the next wave piling over us, and the third tossed us shoreward like an empty 
cracker-box. We dried out the rest of the day, and went at it again the following 
morning with about the same success. The fourth day, the surf dropped lower 
and we reached the smooth water beyond. 
As the most “climbable” and “campable” looking rock, we selected the one 
farthest out at sea. This rock was 600 feet in length and rose in abrupt cliffs 
from the sea, but the south side was well ledged. It was not an easy task to land 
on the rock itself. The steady ground-swell of four or five feet would not let the 
boat touch the rock. We found a place on the south side where the rock shelved 
down to the tide-level. As the wave receded, we backed the boat in and one of 
us landed in a flying leap from the stern, while the other pulled away to keep 
from being dashed against the jagged rock by the next breaker. Provisions had 
TUFTED PUFFIN AT ENTRANCE TO BURRO'V 
to be pitched out and some of our bulkier belongings barely escaped a watery 
grave. It was a much more difficult task “ledging” our boat, as it weighed over 
five hundred pounds. We had to swing her well in on the crest of a big wave 
and spring into the water and hold her as the wave receded, then work her up 
with block and tackle to a twelve-foot table away from the lash of the waves. 
When we began looking for the best camping spot on the rough, jagged side 
of that cliff, it was a good deal like hunting for a lodging on a winding stair-case. 
There wasn’t much choice. There was only one landing that was wide enough to 
stretch out, and that looked as couch-like and comfortable as the top of a broken 
picket fence. It was a good deal more dangerous in case one took to perambulat- 
ing in his sleep, as the edge broke abruptly off to a reef forty feet below. 
