When Captain Jim Hubbell took command of the Dipsey the state of affairs on that vessel underwent a great change. He was sharp, exact, and severe; he appreciated the dignity of his position, and he wished to let everybody see that he did so. The men on board who had previously been workmen now became sailors—at least in the eyes of Captain Hubbell. He did not know much about the work that they had been in the habit of doing, but he intended to teach them the duties of sailors just as soon as he could find any such duties for them to perform. He walked about the deck with an important air, and looked for something about which he might give orders. There were no masts or spars or shrouds or sheets, but there were tarpaulins on the deck, and these were soon arranged in seamanlike fashion. A compass was rigged up on deck, and Captain Hubbell put himself into communication with the electric steersman.
It was morning when the Dipsey emerged from the sea, although day and night were equally bright at that season, and at twelve o'clock Captain Hubbell took an observation, assisted by Sammy. The result was as follows: longitude, 69 30'; latitude, 88 42'.
“It strikes me,” said Captain James Hubbell, “that that latitude goes over anything ever set down by any skipper, ancient or modern.”
“I should say so,” answered Sammy. “But that record won't be anything compared to what we are goin' to set down.”
Work went on very rapidly, in order to get the Dipsey into regular nautical condition, and although it was out of his line, Captain Hubbell made it a point to direct as much of it as he could. The electric gills were packed as close to the side of the vessel as possible, and the various contrivances for heating and ventilation when sailing in the open air were put into working order. At four o'clock in the afternoon our party started to round the icy promontory ahead of them, encouraged by a most hearty and soul-inspiring message from the hills of New Jersey.
“It's all very fine,” said Sarah Block to her husband, “for everybody on board to be talkin' about what a splendid thing it is to be sailin' on the surface of the sea, in the bright and beautiful air, but I must say that I like a ship to keep quiet when I am on board of her. I had a pretty bad time when I was comin' up on the Go Lightly, but she was big and didn't wabble like this little thing. We went along beautifully when we were under the water, with the floor just as level as if we were at home, in a house, and now I am not feelin' anything like as well as I have been. For my part, I think it would be a great deal better to sink down again and go the rest of the way under the water. I am sure we found it very comfortable, and a great deal warmer.”
Sammy laughed.
“Oh, that would not do at all,” he said. “You can't expect the people on board this vessel to be willin' to scoop along under the water when they have got a chance of sailin' like Christians in the open air. It's the sudden change that troubles you, Sarah; you'll soon get over it.”
But Sarah was not satisfied. The Dipsey rolled a good deal, and the good woman was frequently obliged to stop and steady herself when crossing the little cabin.
“I feel,” said she, “as if I had had a Christmas dinner yesterday and somebody else had made the pies.”