XII
A WEEK-END ADVENTURE
For several years it has been my habit to spend my week-ends during the summer and autumn months in a small yacht called the Thelma, of about five tons, as a welcome change from the confined life of the City.
Many and many a happy, lazy time have I spent in her, sometimes by myself, at others with a companion, at various delightful spots round our eastern and southern coasts, occasionally taking short cruises along the seaboard, but more often lounging about harbours and estuaries, or even exploring inland waters.
On these occasions many little incidents and adventures have occurred, which, though full of interest to any one fond of yachting, yet are hardly worthy of print, and it was not until about a year and a half ago that the following events took place, and seemed to me of sufficient interest to record.
The Thelma was at the time at an anchorage in one of my favourite spots, a somewhat lonely East-coast estuary, within easy reach of the open sea, and, more important still in a way, fairly close to a main-line railway-station, so that I could get to her from town without wasting much of my precious time on the way. I had run down late on a Friday night early in September, rejoicing, as only a hard-worked City man can rejoice, in the thought of a good forty-eight hours of freedom and fresh air. I was alone, as my exit from town was rather unexpected, and I had no time to find a friend to keep me company; but that did not worry me, as I felt fully able to enjoy myself in solitary peace.
I found everything prepared for my arrival, having wired to the longshoreman and his wife, in whose charge I had left the yacht, and I should much like to describe in full detail all my enjoyment, but must pass over the little events of my first day—the Saturday—as they have nothing to do with my "adventure," though to me the day was brimful of thorough happiness.
It was one of those splendid bright days which are happily so frequent on the East coast in September—so calm, indeed, that sailing was out of the question, and I spent my time in the small boat or dinghy out in the open sea a mile or more, fishing in an indolent way for whiting, etc., and basking in the sun.
I saw no one all day, and there was little shipping about. A private wherry anchored opposite the village above the Thelma was the only craft in the river, and a few trawlers and coasting steamers far out were the only vessels to be seen at sea.