Vietnam or Thailand ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Updated: June 12, 2025
In my sober senses, however, though sufficiently excited to give me strength for the time, I went over every part of the Resistance, and examined everything in detail except the stokehole! I was not even hoisted on board, but mounted the companion-ladder bravely. It was a glorious sight, the perfection of structure in every part astonished me.
Few people realize that 'ocean records' are a very old affair, even in Canada, where they begin with Champlain's voyage of eighteen days from Honfleur to Tadoussac and end with King George V's sixty-seven hours from land to land, when he speeded home in H.M.S. Indomitable from Champlain's tercentenary at Quebec in 1908, handling his shovel in the stokehole by the way.
And they don't like these stinking holes! They don't like their jobs, with no day and no night, only steel walls and electric light! You hear a shout at midnight and you jump down into the stokehole and work like hell till four a. m., when you crawl up all soaked in sweat and fall asleep till the next shout.
She was thinking of the entrance to the stokehole, where one crouched under the bellies of furnaces, and where the engineer on duty stood on a pile of hot cinders. Toward morning her room grew very close: the air from the ventilator seemed to have ceased. Far down in the ship, in a breathless little cabin far aft, the Red Un kicked the Purser's boy and cried himself to sleep.
They are getting the stinkpots ready for us, I suppose." "Yes, that's it, sir. Do you think it necessary to have the hose ready in case of fire?" "No; if any come on board, the firemen can be called up from the stokehole with their shovels. I think we'll go now upon the bridge. You can come too, Mr Herrick. I may want you to take an order or two."
My swimming kit had meanwhile been taken down into the stokehole, so that when it was handed to me it was not only nearly dry but, what was very much more to the purpose, comfortably warm. Donning it and a fine warm boat cloak, I accompanied the skipper to the deck and walked aft to take a look at the task before me.
Instead of a grimy stokehole full of perspiring firemen and piles of coal, I found a clean, white-painted place with one solitary but clean man regulating polished taps. The Chief Engineer, a burly, red-headed, red-bearded man, came up and began explaining things to me.
And now that she should have been killed in a stokehole! While this was going on a young lady rode up along side of Mr. Price, and said a word to him with her sweetest smile. "You remember your promise to me, Mr. Price?" "Surely, Mrs. Houghton. Your nag can jump a few, no doubt." "Beautifully. Mr. Houghton bought him from Lord Mountfencer.
He crawled down a short ladder and through low passageways dripping wet and so came into the stokehole. This was a long, narrow chamber with a row of glowing furnace doors. Wet coal and coal-dust lay on the floor.
On the trip out he had licked the Captain's boy and the Purser's boy; on the incoming trip he had lashed the Doctor's boy to his triumphant mast, and only three days before he had settled a row in the stokehole by putting hot ashes down the back of a drunken trimmer, and changing his attitude from menace with a steel shovel to supplication and prayer.
Word Of The Day
Others Looking