824 
FOREST AND STREAM. 
[Nov. 19, 1910. 
marked there on the chart, but could not see 
any, until we discovered a common or barn 
lantern and ti pole to hang it on! This was the 
lighthouse all right, so we pushed on and, al¬ 
though the tide was pretty hot and foul, we 
managed to shove through. We noticed that 
all the lights and beacons, etc., were far superior 
on the Canadian side. In fact, it put me m 
mind of what it used to be (I don’t know 
whether things are different now) when cross¬ 
ing from the French coast to the English side 
or from the splendid lights on the northern 
coasts of Ireland to the Clyde and Hielands. 
After passing through Deception Pass there 
is a long stretch of smooth and shallow water, 
bordered by equally low land. In fact, the 
towns are almost out of sight, and railways and 
roads run for miles on rows of piles. We did 
not want to negotiate this at night, and as we 
were in the pleasing situation of being always in 
soundings and smooth water, we simply turned 
in a little toward Whidby Island and anchored 
in about four fathoms, near a sort of fishing 
camp. During the night the tug an'd boom 
passed down outside of 11s, and toward morn¬ 
ing our dogs started such a fearful uproar on 
deck that we all turned out, only to find that a 
Swede fisherman had got his salmon net foul 
to our cable. We soon got it clear and he made 
off in his gasolene boat, and we started soon 
afterward and had a lovely run to Seattle. It 
was almost too fine, as the smoke from the 
numerous towns and sawmills was rather thick, 
necessitating compass courses in some places. 
It was clear enough off Seattle, and first we 
tried tying up at one of the wharves or “docks” 
in the town, but found that position quite un¬ 
tenable owing to the wash from the numerous 
large and powerful steamers. We then tried 
West Seattle, where the yacht club is, but the 
water is practically too deep to anchor, and as 
I knew nobody there, 'did not like to pick up 
one of the club buoys. Afterward they told 
me I should have done that as a matter of 
course, and, in fact, I cannot speak too highly 
of the kindness and courtesy extended to us 
by the club. 
However, after hanging on and dodging 
around a little, we decided to run across to Pt. 
Blakeley, just opposite, where we found a de¬ 
lightful and quiet anchorage, and found that a 
steamer would take 11s into Seattle in the morn¬ 
ing in less than an hour. We went to the Ex¬ 
hibition (two of 11s) the next day—of which 
more anon—and also to West Seattle, where we 
were very kindly received at the club and shown 
a buoy we could' lie at. Accordingly next morn¬ 
ing we brought the steamer across and tied up 
there for the remainder of the time we stayed 
in Seattle. There were same very nice vessels 
among the fleet — in fact, in fittings and general 
finish they are far ahead of those on our side. 
Of course there are exceptions—but as a rule 
this is the case. But then it must be remem¬ 
bered that the facilities on the American side 
for obtaining materials and fittings are much 
greater than we have as yet; although things 
are improving in Vancouver in that way very 
rapidly. One of the nicest boats of her class— 
a raised deck cruising launch—is the Lydia, 
and she was brought in toto from New York. 
Still, most of the vessels are far from being 
what we would call “yachts” at home. I was 
speaking to two of the “skippers”—one a Welsh 
man, the other a London river man, originally 
— and they agreed there was quite a contrast. 
The racing (sic) also, as in Vancouver, has gen¬ 
erally been on a very crude basis as regards 
measurement rules. So long as there is a race, 
and the newspapers can print some dreadful 
rubbish about it, nobody seems very particular 
as to what rule it is sailed under. The best 
sport obtains naturally in the handicaps, pure 
and simple. This year, however, the thing is 
probably going to be put on a better footing, 
as all the clubs on both sides are trying to de¬ 
cide on which measurement rule to adopt and 
stick to. The rather elaborate flag etiquette is 
also very noticeable, there being various pen¬ 
nants to denote all sorts of things, and the ab¬ 
sence or presence of the owner or “Captain,” 
as the papers here invariably dub the owner of 
a yacht. 
At all events, they made 11s very comfortable 
at the moorings, and as there is a half-hour 
ferry into Seattle, we used to go over in the 
mornings, spend the day at the Exhibition, and 
return in the evening. 
And now, as to the Exhibition itself. The 
last I had seen were the great “Shipperies” at 
Liverpool and the Manchester Exhibition—I 
don’t know how many years ago! so cannot 
judge by comparison with any modern show. 
Still it seemed very good indeed—especially the 
grounds, buildings and gardens, which were 
beautifully laid out and well attended to. 
Of course there is rather a mixture of every 
kind of architecture—from French Rennaissance 
and gardens modelled after the parks of Ver¬ 
sailles, and the California building in Spanish 
mission style, to the various “freak” affairs in 
the “Pay Streak,” as the amusement section is 
termed. This latter is a mile long, and is well 
stocked with all the usual noisy and would-be 
novel attractions generally associated with such 
places, spiced with some Western ingenuity. 
But among numerous striking and attractive 
features, the forestry building appealed more 
to us than any other. It is the largest “log 
house” in the world, being a whole city block 
in length, all made of rough logs with the bark 
on. But such logs! Along the front is a per¬ 
gola of columns, each column a single, clear 
log, 40 feet high, without a flaw or knot. There 
are hundreds of these and each stick contains 
6,000 feet board measure, and is nearly 25 tons 
weight. Inside are specimens of all sorts of 
timber and its growth and manufacture. . Then, 
of course, the exhibits from Alaska, showing 
the fishing and gold mining operations, are very 
fine. A large iron cage filled with gold nug¬ 
gets and “specimens” seems an unfailing center 
of attraction. Liberal use is made of “moving 
picture” displays, so a very realistic impression 
is given. Judged by the rest of the “show,” the 
marine part was rather feeble. Apart from a 
fine display of gasolene engines and a few 
models scattered here and there, there was 
practically no marine machinery exhibited, ex¬ 
cept one small set in the Government building. 
In this section, in fact, was the only nautical 
part—including lights and signals and some ex¬ 
hibits from the U. S. Navy. There was a fine 
model (working) of the notorious dry dock, 
“Dewey.” But, of course, it would be impossible 
to give even a fair general idea of such a huge 
and varied exhibition in a necessarily brief ac¬ 
count of our trip; suffice it to say we had splen¬ 
did weather and enjoyed it thoroughly. 
On Thursday, Aug. 5, we left Seattle about 
four oclock in the morning to catch the ebb, 
which carried up past Point No Point fairly 
well, but from Marrowstone Point past Port 
Townsend and Partridge Point, it runs very 
strongly and gave us a fine lift. We came back 
this way as we saw more of the places and the 
tides suited well, for after passing Smith’s 
Island we got the flood with us at Cattle Point, 
on San Juan Island, and had it with us until we 
crossed the boundary line and got into home 
waters again. We put into Port Browning for 
the night, and found it an ideal little place. 
But all through these islands there are numer¬ 
ous small bays and inlets which afford perfect 
anchorage. The next day we went to Boat 
Harbor, where we waited for a fair tide through 
Dodd’s Narrows to Nanaimo, practically bring¬ 
ing our trip to a most successful conclusion, so 
far as the “foreign” part of it was concerned. 
However, before going home, we ran across to 
Vancouver, about 40 miles, where we spent a 
few days and washed out our boiler. Thence 
we went to False Bay, on Lasqueti Island, 
where we had quite a strong S.E. blow, but 
caught some fine cod, and the next day safely 
reached our moorings—all well. 
At Sea. 
He—It was blowing hard when we ran out 
of port. 
She—But I suppose you had some sherry or 
something to go on with?—Cassell’s Saturday 
Journal. 
Nantucket as a Whaling Port. 
It was in 1763 that the Nantucket settlers be¬ 
gan to fish for whales, using boats from the 
shore, meeting with such success that, a few 
years later, small villages at Siasconset and 
Sesachacha were built; also fishing stages at 
various points on the shores. About 1712 it is 
recorded that small vessels began making whal¬ 
ing voyages, six sloops being engaged in whal¬ 
ing. The white population in 1719 had in¬ 
creased to 721. By 1730 twenty-five whaling 
vessels were owned at Nantucket, the number 
steadily increasing. In 1772 the first sperm 
candle factory was started. This was the be¬ 
ginning of what developed into a large industry. 
As an example of a successful whaling voyage, 
it is recorded that in 1830 the ship Sarah, Capt. 
Frederick Arthur, arrived after a voyage of 
two years and eleven months, bringing 3,497 
barrels sperm oil, valued at $98,000, the largest 
amount ever brought in. 
Toward the close of 1774 there were 150 sail 
of vessels in the whaling service belonging here, 
the greater part of them at sea. As war with 
England seemed inevitable, the owners decided 
to strip and haul them up as fast as they 
arrived, rather than risk their capture by pri¬ 
vateers. The whaling industry was paralyzed 
for the time, the community suffering severe 
hardship in consequence of the war and its re¬ 
sults. Communication with the mainland be¬ 
ing cut off, it was with great difficulty that they 
obtained necessary supplies. In Macy’s history 
it is stated that “In 1775 the tonnage owned at 
Nantucket was about 14,867 tons. During the 
war fifteen vessels were lost at sea, and 134 
captured; total loss in tonnage 12,467 tons.” 
It was estimated that about 1,600 men lost their 
lives in various ways during the war. Nan¬ 
tucket paid dearly for the independence of the 
colonies. 
Again in 1812, when the islanders had but 
just entered on a new period of prosperity, they 
were doomed to meet with the loss of about 
half their fleet. “Twentv-two had been taken 
and condemned and one lost at sea.” Still un¬ 
daunted, they again resumed their industry, and 
in 1815 twenty-five ships and twenty-four other 
vessels sailed. In 1840 the population had in¬ 
creased to 9.712. In 1842 whaling reached its 
highest point, eighty-six ships and four smaller 
vessels being owned here. Soon after that the 
business began to decline. This process con¬ 
tinued steadily until in 1870 the last whaler 
arrived in port. In 1846 the town was visited 
with a destructive conflagration involving a 
loss of one million dollars. This calamity, to¬ 
gether with the decay of whaling, caused a large 
exodus, of the people to various points on the 
continent (especially to California in 1849), and 
by 1870 the population was reduced to 4,123. 
At this period the business of the island was at 
a low ebb and real estate was almost valueless. 
Not too Proud to Work. 
“Here’s a nickel,” said a thrifty housewife to 
a tramp at her door. “Now, what are you go¬ 
ing to do with it?” 
“Well, mum,” replied the hungry man, “if I 
buy a touring car, I shan’t have enough left to 
pay my chauffeur; if I purchase a steam yacht 
there woil’t be enough left to defray the cost 
of manning her; so I guess, mum, I’ll get a 
schooner and handle it myself.”—Everybody’s. 
Motor Hooting. 
Motor Boat Club of America. 
The annual meeting of the Motor Boat Club 
of America was held last Wednesday at the 
Automobile of America’s club house. The elec¬ 
tion of officers - resulted as "follows: Commo¬ 
dore, H. H. Melville; ; .ce-Commodore, F. K. 
Burnham; Rear-Commodore, J. Stuart Black- 
ton; Secretary, F. N. Morley; Treasurer, 
Charles Francis; Trustees — Albert E. Smith, 
August Heckscher. J. H. Hoadley, John M. 
Shaw, Charles P. Tower, H. R. Sutphen, F. G. 
C. Lyon, Archie Pell, E. J. Steiner, M. M. 
Whitaker. 
