For six mortal weeks we waited at Las Palmas, that it might be fulfilled which was spoken by the weather-prophets concerning the West Indian hurricane season:
June, too soon.
July, stand by.
August, if you must.
September, remember.
October, all over.
And on the third of this last, reassuring month we set sail across the Atlantic.
THE ARRIVAL AT BRITISH WEST INDIES
Deep-sea thoughts—Concerning Calms—Visitors in
mid-Atlantic—Barbados and beyond
Chapter VI headpiece
CHAPTER VI
Deep-sea thoughts—Concerning Calms—Visitors in
mid-Atlantic—Barbados and beyond
The great adventure had now begun in earnest. Three thousand miles of Atlantic Ocean lay ahead of us, holding we knew not what of new experience, and for the third time since setting sail our undertaking imbued us with a certain amount of awe.