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Updated: June 28, 2025
"It's goin' to be a nasty night," said Uncle Terry, coming in from the shed and dumping an armful of wood in the box behind the kitchen stove, "an' the combers is just a-humpin' over White Hoss Ledge, an' the spray's flyin' half way up the lighthouse."
"I will hang you up if he is lost," said Wulfnoth's voice. Then I sprang up and shouted, and the vault rang painfully in my ears. It was Olaf who called back to me. "Ho, Redwald where are you?" "Under the house, in a pit," I answered, standing under the opening. Then someone came tramping above me, and the next moment Spray's leather-hosed leg came through the hole, and he nearly joined me.
From the Island of Frogs we made for the Island of Birds, called Gannet Island, and sometimes Gannet Rock, whereon is a bright, intermittent light, which flashed fitfully across the Spray's deck as she coasted along under its light and shade.
As she rode at her ancient, rust-eaten anchor, she sat on the water like a swan. The Spray's dimensions were, when finished, thirty-six feet nine inches long, over all, fourteen feet two inches wide, and four feet two inches deep in the hold, her tonnage being nine tons net and twelve and seventy-one hundredths tons gross.
The Spray's good luck followed fast. I discovered, as she sailed along through a labyrinth of islands, that she was in the Cockburn Channel, which leads into the Strait of Magellan at a point opposite Cape Froward, and that she was already passing Thieves' Bay, suggestively named. And at night, March 8, behold, she was at anchor in a snug cove at the Turn!
The sea-breeze, coming in before long, filled the Spray's sails, and the experienced Portuguese mariner piloted her to a safe berth in the bay, where she was moored to a buoy abreast the settlement.
Rounding the "Cape of Storms" in olden time A rough Christmas The Spray ties up for a three months' rest at Cape Town A railway trip to the Transvaal President Kruger's odd definition of the Spray's voyage His terse sayings Distinguished guests on the Spray Cocoanut fiber as a padlock Courtesies from the admiral of the Queen's navy Off for St. Helena Land in sight.
Bruce would like to come on board and shake hands with the Spray. Will it be convenient to-day!" "Very!" I joyfully shouted. On the following day Sir F. Carrington, at the time governor of Gibraltar, with other high officers of the garrison, and all the commanders of the battle-ships, came on board and signed their names in the Spray's log-book. Again there was a hail, "Spray ahoy!" "Hello!"
But when I came to a great island nearer home, stout locks were needed; the first night in port things which I had always left uncovered disappeared, as if the deck on which they were stowed had been swept by a sea. A pleasant visit from Admiral Sir Harry Rawson of the Royal Navy and his family brought to an end the Spray's social relations with the Cape of Good Hope.
The governor's young boys took charge of the Spray's dinghy at once, and my visit cost his Excellency, besides great hospitality to me, the building of a boat for them like the one belonging to the Spray. My first day at this Land of Promise was to me like a fairy-tale.
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