CHAPTER IV.

GOLDEN GATE TO POINT REYS-SHOALS AND ROCKSA LIGHTHOUSE-PERILS OF THE SEA-"KotzeBUE IS OVERBOARD”—The Rescue-LIGHT WINDS AND SLOW PROGRESS-ANXIOUS PASSENGERS—“A FAIR BREEZE"-SHADES OF EVENING SEASICK PASSENGERS.

Extending for a considerable distance from shore, along the coast for thirty or forty miles from the Golden Gate to and beyond Point Reys, is a more or less continuous stretch of shoal waters and meagerly submerged rocks, and the region is a very hazardous one for the mariner. More marine casualties occur here, it is said, than at any other place on the Pacific coast. Here the ill-fated passenger steamer, Rio de Janeiro, from the China ports, as recently as February 22, 1901, in trying to make San Francisco harbor in a dense fog, got out of her course, struck one of the treacherous rocks, and went down in fifteen minutes, carrying with her 128 of the 208 persons she had on board. On Point Reys a lighthouse is located, and its sixteen sided tower, rising twenty feet in the air, can be plainly seen at a distance of twenty miles or more from land.

Just as the sun was peeping above the horizon on the morning of our second day out we were abreast of Point Reys. The wind during the night had died into a calm, and we were now being rocked in the trough of the sea, and the swells were slowly carrying the ship inshore. For five hours we did not make a league. of north latitude. The sails hung helplessly. There was not enough air to admit of any arrangement of

them that would enable the ship to overcome the influence of the sea which was gradually bearing her on the rocks. To those who realized the peril, these were anxious hours. The captain and first officer were both on deck, watching the listless movements of the ship, which were always in one direction—and the sails were still useless. Occasionally they would glance toward the lighthouse, as if wondering if the keeper there observed the impending danger. A sailing vessel under such circumstances is the most helpless thing imaginable.

Suddenly, however, there was a change in the countenance and demeanor of the captain. The expression of watchful care and the anxiety which led to gruff refusal to answer questions of timid passengers, gave place to confidence and action. He seemed to scent the rescuing breeze from afar, and long before it had any appreciable effect upon the vessel. A few short orders put the sails in trim to catch favorably the coming wind, and now they began to fill and to assert their power affirmatively. The drifting ceased, the ship, surprised at her lethargy in the presence of such danger, came to herself, bore up into the wind which now blew briskly, and moved out into the open sea to safety.

One of the sailors had picked up a dog on the wharf before leaving 'Frisco and brought it along with him. It was a little fellow, of the spaniel species, and had been christened "Kotzebue." It meant good luck to the bark, the sailors said. While eight bells were striking in the afternoon, some one cried out, "Kotzebue" is overboard!" The passengers from all quarters crowded to the larboard deck eager for the rescue of the unfortunate canine. The sailors were all excitement, for the loss of the dog was the one thing in their

opinion which would bring bad luck. "Lower the dingy," called out one of them. His order was quickly obeyed, and two of the sailors leaped over the taffrail into the boat, and marshaling the oars, rowed with all their might toward the spaniel now struggling for his life two hundred yards in our wake. Their movements were watched from the ship with apparently as much solicitude as if a human life were at stake. The boatmen shortly had poor "Kotzebue" by the neck, and as they dragged him into the ark of safety they were greeted with repeated cheers from passengers and crew. Ten minutes later the twain, with the mascot of the vessel in hand, returned and received hearty congratulations from all.

During the next twenty-four hours we had light winds, consequently making slow progress. Many of the boys at this early stage of the journey began to murmur at the futility of a sailing craft as a means of rapid transit. Anxious we all were to reach the golden shore of the frozen North, and moving at the rate of less than one nautical mile an hour, did not tend to assuage the restiveness.

the

The ship, however, was not disturbed by the carping of the passengers. She had the best of it. There are no "way stations" on this "Northern Pacific Line" to stop at and let off passengers; no "junctions" for weary wanderer to "change cars"; no places where is heard the announcement, "ten minutes for lunch." It was on this occasion that I first noticed the trait in the Catherine's character of indifference to critcism when she was doing the best she could, and I made up my mind to be friends with her.

In the afternoon we encountered a fair breeze, and amid the exultations of the passengers began to make some headway. Half an hour later the breeze increased

to a gale, and the Catherine now ploughed the waves at a speed of nine knots. The vessel braved the foaming billows of the ocean, and heaved and pitched and forced her way over and through the now tempestuous sea, bent on showing the querulous gold hunters what she could do when she had a chance.

With the shades of evening rain began to fall, and the sea was becoming more wild. But by dawn next morning the gale had relaxed to a gentle breeze, and we sailed at a moderate speed. Many of the passengers were now confined to their bunks with seasickness. The rough weather had induced the dreaded symptoms, and notwithstanding many a heroic protest there was no escape from the sea's decree.

CHAPTER V.

THE

BEAUTIFUL MORNING-MEMORIAL DAY ON
OCEAN-CHANGE OF WEATHER-A SOUTHWEST
GALE-STORM AT SEA-EXCITEMENT AMONG THE
PASSENGERS AND SAILORS-A DECISIVE MOMENT
-ALL HANDS ON DECK-THE CAPTAIN AT THE
HELM-SHIP'S VICTORY-STORM ABATES.

Monday morning, May 30, found us in 39 degrees, 59 minutes, north latitude, and 126 degrees, 38 minutes, west longitude. It was a beautiful morning. The sea was calm and the ship slowly drifted onward.

It was Memorial Day, and the peaceful slumbering of the ocean seemed typical of the day. At 9 o'clock, Old Glory was run up the mainmast by order of the captain, and during the remaining hours of the hallowed day the beautiful flag, high above the maintopsail, floated proudly to the breeze in honor of the fallen brave. Just before the noon hour the passengers assembled beneath the Stars and Stripes and sang with the spirit. of true patriotism a number of national airs, such as "The Star Spangled Banner," "My Country 'Tis of Thee," and "Rally Round the Flag," accompanied by

sweet strains of music.

At half past 2 o'clock in the afternoon, we were favored with a fair breeze, and the Catherine Sudden again moved along at the average speed of five knots. At half past four the breeze stiffened and the log indicated eight knots. The falling of the barometer predicted a change of weather. At 7:30 it commenced to rain. The threatening aspect of the heavens gave evidence of an approaching storm. A gale was preparing to blow from the southwest. The ship increased