“Well, we’re off,” exclaimed Don, coming up the ladder and stepping into the little cockpit.
“Off on a nice start,” Jim nodded, watching a buoy about half a mile ahead of him.
“This is swell,” Terry struck in, his eyes dancing.
The wind was blowing a lively little breeze, and the Lassie rose and fell with the action of the waves. It was a bright, clear day, and they could see for miles over the tossing, tumbling Atlantic. On the port side they could see the long coast of Maine stretching along before them.
“Just think,” sighed Don. “Nothing to do but sail for a month or more.”
“It surely is great,” Terry agreed. “I hope in that month you’ll teach me something about sailing. I feel awfully ignorant.”
“You needn’t,” Jim told him. “We’re not any too good, ourselves. We’ve been used to sailing cat-boats around, but this is the first time we’ve had an opportunity to handle this boat in any kind of weather. I think we’ll all learn things together.”
After they had sailed down the coast for five miles Don said to Jim: “How about putting on sail?”
Jim considered the sky. “I guess we can. But we’ll have to take two reefs in it. With a small gale like this, we can’t risk putting on full canvas.”
“No, you’re right. Teach Terry how to hold the tiller, while I shut the motor off.”