First Voice: ‘Yes, yes; that’s a good anchor, that is. As I was a sayin’ to Jim this mornin’, “That’s got good flues, that has, and a good stock. I lay she ’on’t never drag that,” I says, “if that git aholt in good houldin’ graound. No more she ’on’t faoul that. That’ll hould she in worse weather than what they’ll ever want to be aout in,” I says. “Then agin, that’s a good anchor for layin’ aout, for that ain’t a heavy anchor to handle in a bo’t,” I says. “None the more for that, she ’on’t never drag that. The chap what made that anchor knaowd what he was abaout.”’
Second Voice: ‘That’s a wonnerful good anchor, that is. That ’on’t never drag that if they let that goo in good houldin’ graound. I allus did like an anchor long in the stock, same as that. Yes, yes; that’ll hould she. That ain’t a heavy anchor for same as layin’ off in a bo’t, whereas them heavy anchors is wonnerful ill convenient. Yes, yes; they’ve got a good anchor there; that was made at Leigh, that was, and wonnerful good anchors that smith allus did make.’
Third Voice: ‘What do I think in it? I don’t want to think nawthen abaout that. I knaow that’s a good anchor. She ’on’t never drag that, do, that’ll hev to be wonnerful poor houldin’ graound. That anchor’s got good flues, that has, and she ’on’t never drag that nit faoul it. They’ll want to be in harbour time that anchor ’on’t hould she. That’s long in the stock, that is, but none the more for that that ain’t a heavy anchor, and yaou can lay that aout in a bit of a sea when maybe a heavier un ’ould be too much for yer.’
The next day the Mate and the elder boy returned, and the barge was christened with a new name. Will Arding, no doubt, had had some sufficient meaning for the late owner, but for us it meant nothing, and we had decided to call the barge Ark Royal.
Before the christening we moved from the quay into midstream. The warps ashore were cast off, and the clank, clank, clank, of the windlass sounded like the music of other worlds calling. We slowly hove off the barge until her stern swung round and she rode free to the flood-tide and the east wind. Sam Prawle was on board, as I had engaged him to come for our first cruise in order that I might learn the handling of a barge under a good instructor. We could not start till high water, because the wind was up river.
Meanwhile, the christening was performed. Several smacksmen came off in their boats for the ceremony. A bottle of champagne, made fast to the jib topsail halyards, was flung well outboard, and came back on to the barge’s bluff bows with a crash and an explosion of foam as the Mate said: ‘In the name of all good luck I christen you Ark Royal!’
Everyone cheered; other champagne (not the christening brand) was handed round, and we all drank success and long life and happiness to one another and the ship. The Royal Cruising Club burgee was hoisted to the truck and the Blue Ensign at the mizzen peak.
Sam stowed the wine-glasses in their racks below; the good-byes were said; the smackies clambered over the side, sorted themselves into the cluster of dinghies astern, and lay on their oars to watch the start. The tide was on the turn, the great topsail flacked in the wind, the brails were let go, and Sam and I sweated the mainsheet home and set the mizzen.
