“Because they all do. We sailors have become so tired of hearing guests call this colony ‘an American Venice’ that we have established a fine against the expression.”
“Much obliged for saving me the money,” smiled Ted. “But it is a wonderful sight for a person who has never seen it”
“I suppose so. It’s the bane of all ore carriers, however. The people in the launches persist in crossing our bows and darting in and out, until it gives our wheelsmen a nervous fit trying to avoid running them down.”
The Admiral, however, passed the colony without accident and was soon in the St. Clair River, whence she passed into Lake Huron, where it was again plain sailing till the St. Mary’s River was reached.
“M’m, what a delicious odour! Smell it, Ted?” exclaimed Phil, as he sniffed the twilight air, while the big carrier checked speed and passed between the lights marking the channel.
“That is from the pine forests,” explained Captain Perkins. “You are fortunate to get the pure fragrance. Later in the season there are usually fires raging, either in Michigan or Canadian forests, making the air stifling with smoke. I’ve seen it so dense that we were obliged to barely creep along, and blow our whistles just as in a fog.”
The handling of the six-hundred-foot vessel as she steamed up the Detroit River had filled the boys with wonder, but as she made the sharp turns in the St. Mary’s, now being obliged to clear a government dredge at work in the channel, now running so close to the shore that it seemed they could jump from the bridge to land, they were amazed at the ease and skill with which the big carrier was navigated.
“Mr. Adams, Mr. Adams!” shouted the skipper. And as the mate hurried from the pilot house, he added: “See if you can pick up a spar-buoy, off the port bow.”
Intently the officer peered through the fast-increasing darkness for a sight of the red light. “Can’t see it, sir,” he replied.
“Then heave the lead, quick! If the light is out of commission, we may ground before we can make this turn.”