Sea Scouts up-Channel

by Percy F. Westerman

"Carry on!" was the Scoutmaster's only rejoinder.

The Sea Scouts knew the meaning of that "Carry on". It meant that they were on their mettle. They had to extricate the anchor by their own devices. The first thing they did was to secure the anchor-trig and haul on the trip-line. The latter was unequal to the strain. It parted well below the surface. Not for the first time was a trip-line a broken reed.

Then Desmond tried to break out the anchor by "sailing it out". Telling Jock to pay out plenty of chain, he got way on the yacht, first on one tack and then on the other. Every time the cable snubbed violently, but still the stubborn anchor retained its hold.

It was now about time, thought Mr. Graham, that he had a look in. Gaining experience was all very well when time was no object; but, with a long day's run in front of him, the Scoutmaster realized that every minute counted. Not only that, the tide was making rapidly, and the deeper the water the more difficult would be the task of freeing the fouled anchor.

Telling Findlay and Desmond to heave short, Mr. Graham went for'ard with a long boat-hook and a coil of three-inch manila, one end of which was bent to the anchor buoy. Sounding, the Scoutmaster confirmed his suspicions: the anchor had caught in a heavy ground-chain. His next step was to submerge the buoy with the boat-hook until he could pass it under the bight of the chain. This took a considerable amount of time and patience, but at length the buoy reappeared on the surface, while the rope to which it was attached had been passed under the chain itself. "Now we've settled the problem!" exclaimed Mr. Graham. "Cast off the cable from the wind, Findlay, and take a couple of turns with the rope. That's right, now heave on the winch." The two Sea Scouts did so until the three-inch manila was strained almost to breaking-point. They now realized what the Scoutmaster was about. The strain on the rope lifted the mooring chain clear of the ground. It now ought to be a simple matter to shake the anchor clear, stow it on board, and ride to the rope until it required to be slipped.

It was a simple operation in theory. In practice Mr. Graham had done it successfully on several occasions, but this time the Scoutmaster had the mortification of finding that his practical demonstration was a failure. The anchor stubbornly refused to release its hold, and no power available could raise the bight of the mooring chain above the surface. For half an hour Mr. Graham persevered. By that time the strain on the rope had brought the yacht's bows down a good eighteen inches above her water-level.

"Slacken away, lads," he exclaimed. "We'll have to wait till low tide. There's no sailing for us to-day."

During the afternoon, a heavy ground-swell set in, followed by a gusty sou'-westerly wind. Consulting the barometer the Scoutmaster found that the glass had dropped three points in less than a couple of hours.

He no longer regretted that the Spindrift had been compelled to remain in port.

Presently the fishing-boats in St. Ives Bay came heading up for home under close reefed canvas. A little later a couple of boats ran round Fisherman's Reef with their mizzen sails set on their main-masts. Their mainsails had been split to ribbons. They were followed by a smack under jury-rig, her mast having parted five feet above the deck.