The bags were filled, attached to the whip—as the derrick hoist is called—and swung up to the deck. There the bags were seized and those intended for stowage on the side next to the collier were dumped quickly. Those intended for the other side of the ship were placed on little trucks and pulled across the deck and then dumped. It was lively work, step and go, and laughter and good cheer enlivened the task. The ship's band was placed on the after bridge, where it played quicksteps and jigs and made the men run and heave and shovel and toss as if coaling ship was the greatest fun in the world.

The decks were sanded so that the dust would mingle with the sand and not grime the woodwork. After the coaling was over the gear was stowed away first. Then the men washed away the dirt from their hands and around their mouths, noses and eyes and all turned to, baboonlike in appearance, to clean ship. Sides were washed down and decks scrubbed. In two or three hours no one would have known that the ship had been in a black dirt storm. Then the men scrubbed their clothes and finally they scrubbed themselves, got into clean clothes and the task was over.

Four days were occupied with this work for the fleet. The last ship to be coaled was the Maine, for that ship is the greatest coal eater in the fleet. She was reserved to the last, so that she would have the largest supply possible on board for the 3,000 mile run to Rio. The Maine was coaled on Saturday and it depended upon the alertness with which it was done whether the fleet was to sail for Rio at sunset on Saturday or Sunday.

The supply ships had little to do in this port because the ships were not in need of much provisioning. Most of the ships took meat from the "beef ships," as the sailors call the supply vessels, but it was only in limited quantities.

The torpedo flotilla got under way on Christmas morning. The bluejackets were sorry to see it go on that day, for they knew they were going to have fun and wished their mates on the flotilla could also join in the merriment. The Yankton and Panther, the latter a repair ship, sailed two days later. The supply ships Culgoa and Glacier were kept to go along with the fleet because they can steam easily at the rate of 11 knots.

Up to the last day of the stay in port liberty parties were going ashore from the ships every day. To the credit of Jack let it be said that he conducted himself with the dignity that becomes the true American man-o'-war's man. Of course he patronized the saloons. Now and then one would stagger a little on coming to his ship. There were no rows, and the authorities had no complaints to make of unruly behavior. Before each party went ashore the executive officer on each ship read to them the order of Admiral Evans allowing them liberty to the fullest extent in keeping with discipline and warning them to be on their good behavior. The Admiral said that if any unhappy incident occurred ashore he would be obliged to stop all liberty. The men heeded the warning. They visited the shops, bought postal cards by the thousands, patronized jewelry stores, got all the pets they wanted, swaggered through the middle of the streets and gave Port of Spain such a coloring in local aspect as it had never seen before. Three or four baseball games were played on the great park's green. The one great stunt the bluejackets enjoyed most was to hire a hack by the hour and ride around the streets. They wrangled with the cabbies about fares, paid out their good money—it was payday on the ships the day before they arrived—and growled as true sailormen should growl when they got English money in change for their own gold and American notes. Trinidad is a place where prices are quoted mostly in dollars and cents, and yet the medium of exchange is pounds, shillings and pence. Most of the shops take American money at its face value.

The shopkeepers were alive to the situation and they made money from the call at their port. They were accommodating and profited by it. Hundreds of Panama hats were purchased. They were bought by men who would not think of purchasing such hats at home because of the high prices. The American hatters, therefore, have lost little by the transactions except the sale of ordinary straw hats in the summer time for two or three years.

The races in the great oval in front of the Queen's Park Hotel were the chief social event of the stay. Thousands attended them and the Yankee propensity to bet made its effect felt. Some of the boys were a little slow in grasping the details of the mutual pool system. A few of them won money, but most of them didn't. There were all sorts of gambling devices, wheels and cards and the like, in operation near the betting ring, and it was like throwing your money away to go against them. But Jack didn't mind that. One of the bluejackets from the Ohio said he was going to bet all he had in the hope of beating the "blooming British," because some of the English bluejackets once had difficulty in pronouncing the word Ohio. They said the name of the Ohio was "Ho and a Haich and a blooming 10," and they didn't know what to call a ship named O H and 10. The American bluejacket will not try to get revenge again, for he lost.

After the races the Queen's Park Hotel was jammed for the rest of the day and evening. Patrons of the bar were lined up six deep. It was as difficult to get a table on the veranda, or even inside, as it is to get one on New Year's eve in New York. All the rest of Trinidad goes to sleep with the chickens except the Queen's Park Hotel, and that also has an early bedtime on ordinary occasions, but the presence of American officers and the races combined made it break the Ben Franklin rule of early to bed.

And so the visit to Trinidad wore away. The fleet was really glad to leave. Most of the visitors growled and said they'd be glad never to return, but all the same every one who has once been here in the winter and experienced the delightful climate and picturesque surroundings will be glad to see it once again. The motto of the fleet now is: "Heave away for Rio."