Thursday, November twenty-eighth.
This continual waiting is getting upon my nerves. Most of to-day I spent tinkering with the engine. It goes now—in a water barrel. The trouble with the best of these little motors is that the moment they get wet they stop, and they are attached at such an exposed place, on the stern, that they will get wet if there’s much of a sea. Then you’re in a bad fix for it’s impossible to make any headway rowing with the engine—or rather the propeller—dragging. Most of the engines are hung right on the stern and can be readily detached and drawn into the boat. But mine fits into a sort of pocket built in the stern and is difficult even on land to lift out. It weighs decidedly over a hundred pounds. So I don’t relish getting caught with such an equipment. I must have mentioned, by the way, that the engine was “thrown in” with the boat as of no value.
So there’s the day gone. To-night we go to bed early and if it is calm just before daylight in the morning we shall start at once.
DRIFTWOOD