twenty-nine-seventy

Updated: May 4, 2025

The day grew suddenly dark, as a squall obscured the face of the sun. Across the lagoon Raoul could see approaching the ominous line of the puff of wind. "Captain Raffy says you've got to get to hell outa here," was the mate's greeting. "If there's any shell, we've got to run the risk of picking it up later on so he says. The barometer's dropped to twenty-nine-seventy."

Jack London - South Sea Tales