We are running between the clouds still, but they are coming together. Many clouds all about ... shouldn’t bother. Port motor coughing a bit. Sounds like water. We are going to go into, under or over a storm. I don’t like to, with one motor acting the way it is.
How grey it is before; and behind, the mass of soggy cloud we came through, is pink with dawn. Dawn “the rosy fingered,” as the Odyssey has it.
Himmel! The sea! We are 3000. Patchy clouds. We have been jazzing from 1000 to 5000 where we now are, to get out of clouds. At present there are sights of blue and sunshine, but everlasting clouds always in the offing. The radio is dead.
The sea for a while. Clouds ahead. We ought to be coming somewhat in the range of our destination if we are on the course. Port motor off again. 3000 ft. 7 o’clock London.
Can’t use radio at all. Coming down now in a rather clear spot. 2500 ft. Everything sliding forward.
8:50. 2 Boats!!!!
Trans steamer.
Try to get bearing. Radio won’t. One hr’s gas. Mess. All craft cutting our course. Why?
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So the log ends.