(Next morning.) The wind is changing though still stormy. The additional gas is being put aboard and Bill, after looking over the situation, is snoozing. The wind is veering back and forth, now from S. now from N.? The old-timers say a S.W. wind is due. We hope so!!!!!
After supper, June 6. Bill has just been flying the kite and trying out the emergency radio. Andy Fulgoni, Claud Frazer and I went into the doctor’s and heard his signals very plainly. He was trying to reach Cape Race. Just now the gang has gone to W.U., and I haven’t heard whether they were successful.
We have spent one indolent day. After the excitement of the morning, when the wind seemed to be shifting permanently, all of us had a sleep. Bill chopped a little wood. Slim and I played “rummy.” I read one of the six books here, “The Story of the Titanic Disaster.” We have read telegrams and scanned maps and weather reports. I took a walk with Andy and Claud Frazer.
For supper we had canned rabbit. Bill’s comment when he first tasted it was: “Here’s something they caught last year—something that couldn’t get away.”
We had fish today for the first time—canned last year in Newfoundland. Slim hates fish, and had been told that was all there was to eat. Also that even eggs would taste of fish because hens were fed on fish. He has been eating chocolates by the package and seems to thrive.
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Slim hails from Texas. Geographically and temperamentally he is no sailor. Even the word “pontoon” made him stutter a bit, and neither salt water nor its products held any joy for him. Consequently he had been plentifully stuffed with stories of what life meant in a fishing village by the sea. To make matters worse he had had a severe attack of ptomaine poisoning from eating clams in Boston just before we started. The only escape led to the little local store and its limited supply of candy. Before we left we had completely absorbed its entire stock.
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“X MARKS THE SPOT”—OUR HOME IN TREPASSEY