JUPITER PLUVIUS had been on hand at the beginning of the voyage and now at its close he was in evidence again. Rain interrupted us at breakfast and continued through the forenoon. Disregarding the showers we started on the last lap of our cruise and at 11 o'clock reached Lock No. 1, or, according to our count, No. 75 from Cumberland. We surrendered our waybill with the request that the canal company would return it to us to keep as a souvenir. After a pleasant chat to the lockmaster during which time we took refuge from a particularly annoying shower, "Sometub" was lowered to the Georgetown level. A few minutes later the lofty towers supporting the arials of the naval radio station at Arlington were visible and rounding a majestic curve to the eastward, we beheld the fantastic skyline of the National Capital.
"BACK HOME"
Threading our way between a fleet of canal boats, tugs, skiffs and nondescript craft we reached the coal wharf in Georgetown and ran "Sometub" into the mud at the ancient lock which connects the canal with Rock creek, its outlet into the waters of the Potomac. The waterfront at Georgetown is no prepossessing place and the attitude of the bystanders was not calculated to lead the boatman to leave his property unguarded. Asking the obliging lockmaster to "keep an eye" on "Sometub" I went up a side street to the office of the Chesapeake and Ohio Canal Company to report our arrival and to meet in person Mr. A. Sahli, the secretary, with whom I had had an interesting telephone conversation last winter when in Washington arranging for the voyage.
Mr. Sahli had been most obliging and we felt grateful for his advice. He told me that a short distance below the lock at the railroad yards I could take the boat from the water and ship it back to Pittsburgh. It seemed that every possible convenience was provided for the skipper directing a "portable cruise."
I cannot describe my feelings when I returned to the wharf. We refused to realize that our voyage was at an end. It seemed that to take down the canopy, pack our stores and utensils and lift "Sometub" from the water would leave us absolutely homeless. It was still raining. For a long time we sat in the boat debating what to do. It was Friday and we had three days remaining on our hands. The little boat never looked more friendly, cozy and hospitable than just now. We had been companions on a most interesting journey and to leave it to pursue our own pleasure was like parting with a faithful partner in adversity.
We compromised by exploring new waters. Giving the signal to the lockmaster, we were lowered into Rock creek and started up that winding stream toward Rock Creek park where we hoped to find a quiet place to tie up. We ran under the arched bridge of Pennsylvania avenue and under the trees to a point at the foot of the hill below DuPont circle but here shoal water checked our progress. Reluctantly we turned back and ran out to the dam where the creek empties into the Potomac. Here our cruise came near terminating in a tragedy. We were within 30 yards of the dam before we saw that water to a depth of a foot or more was pouring over its crest into the swirling river 15 feet below. The motor refused to reverse. We were caught in the current and drifted broadside toward the dam.