“You’ll get used to it,” smiled the sailor. “There’s a knack about it.”
“What do we do now?” demanded Fred.
“Wait till we get our orders. The captain will bring ’er up into the wind in a minute and that’s when we get to work.”
“What shall I do?”
“You grab all the loose sail you can, right in your arms, and try to hold it there. They’ll let go below.”
Fred felt dizzy, standing so high above the decks, and he clung to the ropes which were all about him, for dear life. He heartily wished that he was once more with his comrades, but it was too late now. He must go through with it, and he was determined, if possible, not to betray his nervousness.
“Stand by!” came the faint call from below.
“Hang on now,” cautioned Petersen. “They’re going to bring ’er ’round.”
The steersman put the helm hard over and the Josephine swung rapidly around with her bow into the wind. In spite of the warning Fred did not hold on as tightly as he should. He felt himself slipping. He clutched madly at the maze of ropes which entirely surrounded him. He tried to call out, but no sound came. Desperately he strove to save himself, but his efforts were unavailing.