'Poisonous!' echoed the skipper, looking up with his mouth full. 'My dear sir, it was a ripping day. Nearly flat calm.'
'You call that nearly flat calm?'
'Course I do. There was nothing but a little bit of a lop.'
'A lop, d'you call it? And what the deuce are these craft like in a gale?'
'A bit lively, and most damnably wet,' said Wooten.
'Well, thank God I'm not a destroyer sailor!' exclaimed the civilian with a sigh of heartfelt relief. 'I think you fellows ought to get treble pay in bad weather.'
'So do I,' the naval officer agreed. 'But none of us get our deserts, thank Heaven!'
Every one laughed.
The first trial was not a complete success, and the ship was delayed for a few days with defective fan engines. Then, with the faults rectified, they went to sea again, and this time everything worked smoothly—far more smoothly than Thompson, the engineer-lieutenant-commander, had dared to hope.
The Mariner was a flyer, or at least she flew faster than any other ship most of them had ever been in before. The ship's company talked of her being able to do thirty-seven knots, and thought themselves no small beer in consequence; but as a matter of fact their estimate was exaggerated.