United States or Angola ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Then, again, when still some miles out from the land, yet another current took charge of her, bringing her within the influence of the strong indraught which runs into the Gulf of Saint Malo; by which, finally, she was wafted, in a circular way, up to "the Caskets," or "Casquettes," to adopt the proper French version.
When, however, the rays of the bright morning sun sent this nightmare of a mist to the right-about, a small French fishing lugger might have been seen working out towards the offing from Saint Malo, giving the "Casquettes" a pretty wide berth you may be sure; those who have to do with seafaring matters across Channel knowing full well of the dangerous race that runs by the fatal rocks, ever seeking in its malice to engulph passing crafts and bear them away to destruction!
"Look you!" said Samson, shading his eyes with his hand as he leant with his arm on the gunwale; "we take our track neatly betwixt Auremen and the Hague, and in so fair a day as this have no fear to run close by yonder cursed Casquettes, where many a good ship hath met its doom. Dost thou see them yet?" "Yea," I said.
Here Jacques proceeded to rub the bodies of the boys alternately with a piece of flannel dipped in spirit, which he first held in front of the stove to warm; Maitre Antoine, meanwhile, attending to the navigation of the lugger and guarding lest she should run upon the Casquettes, or get led astray out of her course by Alderney Race, a current of these regions which, like the Saint Malo stream, is not to be played with when the wind's on shore!
It will prove the very messenger of victory from God." "Ay, in good truth," I said. "See, even now before we attack them, they drift, though they would stay steady." We were now well past Les Casquettes, and I could see clear the great rocky headland of the Guet, and others as high and deadly, that I remember not the names of, loom sharp and clear behind the pirates' fleet.
On the evening of the second day that had elapsed since losing sight of Pointe de Graves at the mouth of the Garonne, towards sunset, we had weathered Ushant and were shaping a course up Channel, north east, so as to clear the dangerous Casquettes rocks of Guernsey, when I noticed a large ship, close-hauled on the starboard tack, steaming inwards for the French coast, as if heading for Brest, her nearest port.
This ball belonged to the lighthouse-tower erected on the highest peak of the Casquettes, a terrible group of rocks jutting out into the Channel, just off the French coast hard by Alderney, some six miles to the north-west of which island they lie.
Word Of The Day