“A good deal higher, youngster. They’ll roll up close to thirty feet in a good storm, and that’s as high as the average house or higher. Wait till you see some of those huge combers come crashing down on the deck and you won’t wonder that they have to fortify the coast along here. There isn’t a thing between here and Europe to stop the waves, once they get to rolling.”
Roy whistled in amazement and took another look at the ocean.
The Lycoming was now fairly at sea. In quick succession she passed a string of towns so grown together that there appeared to be but one long community. These were the numerous summer resorts that occupy the narrow strip of land between the Navesink River and the Atlantic Ocean. With the purser’s strong glass Roy could see from his high perch the crowds of bathers on the long beach and motor-cars speeding along the smooth boulevard that runs for many miles close to the shore-line. As darkness came on, the shore faded from sight. But in its place innumerable twinkling lights sprang into being, stretching in unbroken lines, like great strings of glowing jewels, for miles and miles up and down the coast, with brighter clusters here and there like pendants, to mark the hearts of the numerous towns.
From his high post atop the ship, Roy commanded an unobstructed view for miles in every direction. And in every direction lights twinkled. Ashore, millions of lights shone steadily like huge glowworms. The twin headlights of automobiles, like giant, fiery eyes, turned this way or that and darted through the darkness. Search-lights pointed their long beams toward heaven, where they swung, now here, now there, like enormous pencils of light writing on the firmament. As far as he could see, the coast-line was pricked out in innumerable lights.
Seaward shone the lamps of occasional ships. In places single, low-lying, bright eyes in the dark betokened the presence of small sailing ships with lights in their rigging. Lanterns gleamed aboard belated fishing ships, as they made for the great metropolis with their cargoes of sea food. And beyond them, but drawing steadily nearer, a moving mass of lights indicated the presence and approach of a great ocean liner.
Roy had only to turn his eyes heavenward to see the faithful watch-lights that God so long ago placed in the heavens, and that are still shining undimmed to guide the footsteps of those who struggle upward—even as Roy was doing. Something of this he felt as he stood in silent wonder, charmed by the myriad lights ashore, fascinated by the bobbing gleams at sea, with their hint of mystery and romance. The sea! What things it had witnessed! What tragedies it had seen! What adventures had occurred on its heaving bosom! What acts of heroism had taken place on its broad expanse!
Duty called Roy to the wireless house, for the early part of the night was his busy hour afloat. As he turned his back on the panorama of lights and went to his post, he wondered what the sea would bring to him. Hitherto he had thought little about the dangerous side of life at sea. Now he began to grasp the possibilities of tragedy, to understand that not all of those who go down to the sea in ships return safely. As he looked out over the vast void and up into the unfathomable firmament, he felt again that sense of littleness and insignificance that had overwhelmed him upon his arrival in New York. But somehow there was a difference. The stars did not terrify him as his callous fellow beings had done. A sense of awe rather than fear gripped him. Long he looked at the silent stars, so calm, so imperturbable, and though it seemed ridiculous to compare his commander to one of God’s stars, he could not help thinking of that calm, immovable figure he had last seen on the bridge. Whether the night was fair, as it was now, or the tempest raged and the wave-crests hurled themselves upon the ship, Roy felt sure that his commander would be at his post, unterrified. With a prayer that he, too, might be found at his post, unterrified, doing his duty calmly when the pinch came, Roy took a final look at the stars, slipped into the wireless house, and sat down at his operating table, ready for the night’s work.