There could be no better omen for me, since I am a native of Mecklenburg-Schwerin. I crossed over to Gravesend on a ferry-boat, and from there unobtrusively watched the steamer. I adopted the careless demeanour and rolling gait of the typical Jack Tar, hands in my pockets, whistling a gay tune, but keeping eyes and mind keenly on the alert.
This was my plan: to swim to the buoy during the night, climb the hawser, creep on deck and reach Holland as a stowaway.
I soon found the basis for my operations.
After I had ascertained that nobody was paying attention to me, I climbed over a pile of wood and rubbish, and concealed myself under some planks, where I discovered several bundles of hay. These afforded me a warm resting-place, of which I made use on that and the following nights.
About midnight I left my refuge. Cautiously I clambered over the old planks and the litter strewn over the ground. The rain came down noisily, and, though I had taken my bearings during the day, it was almost impossible in the pitch-dark night to find the two barges which I had seen near the lumber pile.
Creeping on all fours, listening with straining ears and trying to pierce the surrounding blackness, I came closer to my object.
However, I perceived with dismay that the two barges which, in daytime, had been completely submerged, lay high and dry. Luckily, at the stern, a little dinghy rode on the water.
With prompt resolution I wanted to rush into the boat, but before I knew where I was I felt the ground slipping from under my feet and I sank to the hips into a squashy, slimy, stinking mass. I threw my arms about, and was just able to reach the plank, which ran from the shore to the sailing-boat, with my left hand.
It took all my strength to get free of the slime which had nearly proved my undoing, and I was completely exhausted when I at last dragged myself back to my bed of hay.
When the sun rose on the third morning of my escape, I had already returned to a bench in Gravesend Park, and was watching the Mecklenburg as she slipped her moorings at 7 a.m. and made for the open sea.