By Monday morning the wind had considerably abated, and the sea had gone down a good deal, so that by 10 o’clock it was pronounced safe to face homeward. The anchor was hove, and in a few minutes we were bowling along homeward under a still fresh gale. Showers of spray dashed against the boat and sent most of us below. As we approached the open sea, we found it still running quite as high as we wanted it. It was too rough to think of cooking anything, so dividing a Swallow and Ariel plum pudding amongst us, “Father” and a learned member of the Bar retired to the seclusion of the hold to assiduously cultivate a thirst, which they thought would arrive at maturity by the time we reached Geraldton.
At noon, Wizard Peak, Mt. Fairfax, and the Moresby Range hove in view, and by three o’clock our chef shouted down that the lighthouse was visible, and we would be at anchor by half-past four.
Alas for the uncertainties of wind-jamming craft! The breeze which had been gradually dying, forsook us altogether, and we lay helpless, but not motionless, on the heavy billows. We had ample time now to study the geography of the coast line from a distance as we rose and fell from the trough to the crest of the seas. The western horizon was a sea of flame as the sun sank beneath the waves; the stars came out and twinkled mockingly at us to the music of the thudding boom as it jerked the main sheet to the end of the horse; steerage way was lost, and we flopped and floundered round all points of the compass. For seven weary hours we watched the shore. Point Moore light blazed on us in its intermittent flashes, the lights of the town shot their rays across the waters to us as we picked out those of well-known hostelries with which we were so familiar. They only accentuated a thirst which had already arrived at its full maturity, and it was not till near eleven that at last we dropped anchor, and came ashore at the pier, blistered, sunburnt, storm-tossed, but full of life and hope.
Never were higher encomiums passed on the excellent management of the Globe Brewery! Never were more unstinted praise to the tasteful skill of the brewer, as we performed the final act of a ten days’ most enjoyable outing.
Constantine & Gardner, Printers, Geraldton.