"And a half--three!"
White foam was boiling in among the dirty welter, and the Puncher's
bow pitched suddenly as the first big bar wave lifted her; a second
later her propellers chug-chug-chugged in surface spume as she kicked
upward like a porpoise diving.
"Oh, lordy, lordy, lordy!" groaned the pilot. "This he-ah watah's
full of sharks, an' that's the bar! You're on the bar now, Captain, sah!"
"By the mark--three!" Byng chanted steadily.
"Starboard a little more," said the commander leaning forward and
shoving the pilot away to leeward at the same time. Then he shouted
to the fo'castle head, where a bosun's mate and his crew had climbed
and were awaiting orders in evident and most unreasonable unconcern.
"Get both anchors ready!"
"Aye, aye, sir!" came the answer, and efficiency controlled by experts
proceeded at kaleidoscopic angles to defy the elements. The big steel
hooks were ready in an instant.
"Stop her!" ordered the commander.
The gongs clanged out an alarm and the throbbing ceased.
"Hard astern, both engines!"
Again there was a clangor under hatches, and the suffering bearings
shrieked.
Pages:
266
267
268
269
270
271
272
273
274
275
276
277
278
279
280
281
282
283
284
285
286
287
288
289
290