I had an old volume of sea songs in my trunk, several of which we both knew, as "All's Well," "Larboard Watch," "The Anchor's Weighed," etc. Alec's tenor and my deep baritone harmonized rather well, so we thoroughly enjoyed ourselves. As we had no hearers we used to give wonderful expression to our singing, possibly it was lucky no one could hear us, for it would certainly unstring their nerves.
On Sundays we did no work, but at eleven o'clock had a kind of service which lasted quite an hour and a half. I was parson and read the service, while Alec was clerk and read the lessons and made the responses, while, to pass the time away, we always sang two hymns wherever only one should be sung. This was to give each of us an opportunity of selecting his favourites. There was no levity in all this, we did it as a duty to our Maker, in thankfulness for the manifold blessings bestowed upon us during the week; for our health, welfare, and all the other blessings which He bestowed upon us from day to day. Alec had great cause to be thankful that he had been spared ever to put foot on land again, while I, beside my numerous lucky escapes, had not had a day's real illness since I landed. Before I left the island, Sankey and Moody's "Sacred Songs" would scarcely hold together, so much had it suffered from being turned by our great rough thumbs and fingers, while to say that some of the pages were slightly soiled was putting it in a very mild manner. A stranger might have thought that we hid the volume up the chimney, when not in use, and the appearance would quite have warranted his surmise.
Our first great work together was to build another boat, a larger one than the "Yellow Boy," and on an improved principle. First we collected whatever we thought would be of use in the construction of our craft, which we christened, before a stick of her was laid, "The Anglo-Franc." This was a curious commencement, I must own, but then we did some very strange things on Jethou. The name was chosen because we, as shipwrights, were respectively English and French. We scoured the whole island for material, and succeeded in getting a huge pile together from various sources, thus we were not so cramped as when I built the famous "Yellow Boy."
Speaking of the "Yellow Boy" reminds me that after the big storm I saved the portion which still depended from the cable, suspended from the side of La Fauconnaire. These pieces were the two upper strakes, fifteen feet long, and the fore and second compartments. The timber from these helped us greatly in the building of the new boat. Besides this there were a number of rafters and floor boards that I had collected from the old store-house after the explosion; but our third and best supply was obtained from the wreck of Alec's ketch, "Jeanette," the fore part of which still remained jammed high up between two rocks, which stood about twelve feet apart, near high-water mark, on La Creviçhon. From this, by dint of three days' hard work, we secured several loads of deck-timber and other very useful pieces, which "Eddy" dragged up for us to the ruined store-house.
We found our cart wheels were not high enough to clear the big stones on the beach, so we took them off and replaced them by two runners so as to form a kind of sledge, which answered much better, although many pieces were jerked off en route, by reason of the rugged path and primitive construction of the sledge. As Alec remarked, they served as guide posts, so that there was no losing the way. This idea I got by reading Catlin's "North American Indians." By lashing two long tent poles at a horse's sides, with the ends trailing on the ground, they form a kind of sledge, upon which they can carry considerable loads upon transverse sticks.
From the battered hulk we also brought a great number of bolts and other iron-work, a companion ladder, windlass, pump, bowsprit bits, bell, a torn jib, a quantity of cordage, and whatever else we could lay our hands upon, that might have the most remote chance of being of future use to us.
In story books it is usual to have a ship come ashore just in a convenient spot, and with a full cargo; but ours, unfortunately, was only half a battered hulk, perfectly empty, and in a most awkward position to get at, as we had to cross the Creviçhon Channel at every trip, so that we could only bring the wreckage over at low tide. We could, however, continue our work of dismantling right through the day, except for two hours, when the high tide flowed in and out through poor "Jeanette's" ribs. These two hours we took for rest, food, and the soothing pipe. Bless Raleigh!
When we had collected all our material, both iron and wood, we commenced building the "Anglo-Franc," and in three weeks had her finished and afloat. She was sixteen feet over all, by five feet beam, and was rigged in the style peculiar to the Guernsey boats; that is to say she had two small masts. The foremast was stepped exactly amidships, while the mizen was placed close to the stern. This arrangement strikes an Englishman as very strange, as they are in the habit of seeing the foremast very nearly in the bows; but Ducas was a sailor, and knew the rig adapted to these waters, and I must say that under most circumstances the "Anglo-Franc" behaved herself admirably. She was a success in every way. One special feature was, that we built a kind of half-deck forward, which formed a small cuddy or cabin quite large enough for one of us to have "a watch below" in, or for a regular sleep at night, or we could both squeeze inside during a pelting rain. We spent several single nights at sea in the "Anglo-Franc" during the summer, and by putting a sail-cloth awning from the aft edge of the cuddy deck we lengthened our cabin by four feet, and could thus both obtain a good night's rest, or cook in any wind or weather.
When we had finished the boat we were rather at a loss to know how to find accommodation for her when we did not actually require to use her. In fine weather she could lie moored just off the house, and to enable us always to keep her afloat, we rigged up an out-haul, so that standing on the shore we could haul the boat out or in to its moorings whenever we chose. This was all very well in fine weather, but when a fresh south-west wind was blowing, and a heavy sea on, she would pitch and roll to such an extent that we were afraid she would break loose and drift away. We had therefore to cast about for some safer place for her, and with this in view inspected the whole island round. When we came to Lobster Bay, at the north-east corner, we agreed that that was the most sheltered position we could find, and most suitable in every way for a haven.
Quite at the angle of the island a promontory runs straight out to the eastward for a distance of about forty yards, thus forming a shelter from the rush of the rising tide through the Perchée Channel, while the island of Herm kept the wind from the north-east in check.