The Adventure Club Afloat

by Ralph Henry Barbour

  CHAPTER VI

  IN THE FOG

  "We've been going two whole days now," declared Perry, "and we haven'teven glimpsed an adventure." It was Tuesday morning and the two cruiserswere lying side by side in New Bedford harbour. A light drizzle wasfalling and even under the awning of the bridge deck everything wascoated with a film of moisture. The _Adventurer_ and the _Follow Me_ haddone just short of a hundred miles yesterday, reaching the present portat nightfall. They had averaged fifteen miles an hour and neither enginehad missed an explosion all day long. Joe had been rather stuck-up overthe way his engine had performed and had been inclined to take a goodshare of the credit to himself. Perry, however, had declared that theonly reason the thing had run was because Joe had left it alone.

  "It's lucky for us you're afraid to touch it," said Perry. "If youweren't we'd have been wallowing around somewhere between here andAfrica two days ago!"

  It had been too late to go ashore for sight-seeing last evening, andthey had put it off until morning. And now it was drizzling in a steady,whole-hearted way that promised to make sight-seeing a miserablebusiness. Some of the crew of the _Follow Me_ had come aboard to discussplans and the question was whether to remain in harbour and await betterweather or to set out again and run as far as Martha's Vineyard. Perrywas all for action, and he had the support of numerous others, but Stevepointed out that running the cruiser in such weather in strange waterswas not over pleasant. "It's all well enough for the rest of you, forall you have to do is lie around and read, but it's another thing tostand up there at the wheel and keep from running into the landscape!"

  "Give her to me," advised Perry. "I'll get her to Edgartown or whereveryou want to go, right-side-up with care."

  "If you take the wheel," said Han, "I get out and walk every foot of theway."

  "Better put your rubbers on," suggested Wink Wheeler.

  "You fellows make me very tired," continued Perry severely. "You callyourselves the Adventure Club and start out to see some sport, and thenthe first time there's a heavy mist you want to stick around an oldharbour for fear you'll get damp! We've been going two whole days now,and we haven't even glimpsed an adventure!"

  "An adventure is one thing," said Ossie, "and getting drowned issomething else again. Tell you what, Perry; if you are so keen for sportwhy don't you slip into the tender and run over to Vineyard Havenyourself? We'll follow along tomorrow, or maybe this afternoon."

  "I want to see this town," said Joe. "There's lots to look at in here.Whaling ships and a museum and--and lots of romantic things."

  "The whaling ships are all gone now," said Perry disdainfully. "They'vechopped them all up and sold them by the cord for fire wood. I know, forwe bought a lot of it once. It cost dad about ten dollars for expressand didn't burn any different from any other wood. My grandmother--"

  Steve groaned. "For the love of lemons, Perry, don't resurrect yourgrandmother. Let the poor old lady lie."

  "She isn't dead," denied Perry indignantly. "She's ninety-one and a heapsmarter than you are."

  "Perry," charged Joe severely, "I distinctly remember you telling usthat your grandmother died of sea-sickness."

  "I didn't. I told you she ate lemons and--"

  "Died of acid stomach? Oh, all right. I knew she was dead."

  "Oh, dry up! She ate lemons to keep from being sea-sick, you idiot. Andif you ate them you wouldn't have to lug around a lot of silly medicinethat doesn't amount to a row of pins. And if--"

  "All very interesting," interrupted Phil mildly, "but it isn't decidingwhether we're to stay here or go on. Personally, I think that thatshould be up to the captain. If he isn't to decide whether the weatheris right or wrong, who is?"

  "That's so," agreed several. "Steve's the captain. What you say goes,Steve."

  "Very well. Then we'll stay here until it stops misting, or, at anyrate, until tomorrow. If it's still nasty then and you fellows want togo on, I'll go. Now let's go ashore and see what's doing."

  "O Harry!" called Wink. "We're going to stay until tomorrow. Comeashore."

  In spite of the drizzle they found a good deal to interest them in NewBedford, and Joe actually did find a whaler, although it was no longerin commission. At noon, Ossie, having made many purchases in the town,served a dinner that made the world look a lot brighter. Afterwards thecrews of the two boats exchanged calls, read, dozed, played thegraphophone and didn't much care whether it drizzled or not. Toward theend of the day the sun peered forth experimentally and there followedanother expedition ashore. But the sun soon gave up its attempt to doany business that day and the drizzle set in harder than ever. In theevening the entire club attended a moving picture show and thus disposedof several hours that might otherwise have proved difficult to getthrough. A motor-boat, no matter how large or luxurious, is not the mostinteresting place to live on in wet weather.

  The next morning the mist had ceased, but the sun was hidden behind darkclouds and the world was still rather dreary. But plenty of hot coffee,some of Ossie's baking powder biscuits and the almost invariable friedbacon cheered them remarkably, and at a little past eight the order wasgiven to weigh anchor and the two cruisers, the _Adventurer_ showing theway, set forth across Buzzard's Bay for Edgartown.

  It was a sixteen-mile run to the channel between Nonamesset Island andthe mainland, and Steve followed the steamboat course closely. Thechart showed many rocks and ledges in the first six miles, but neitherof the cruisers drew enough to make it necessary for their skippers toworry. There was rough water, however, and Joe was seen to lookanxiously toward the after cabin. A flukey breeze came out of thesoutheast and made sweaters comfortable. The shore of Naushon Island wasgrey and indistinct when the _Adventurer_ straightened out for the runacross the bay. Behind her the _Follow Me_ plunged gallantly, doing herfourteen miles without a murmur. As they neared Penzance the seamoderated and they swung into the channel on an almost even keel. Goodharbours beckoned, and the plan of lying by until after dinner wasdiscussed and finally abandoned. Edgartown was only another hour's sailand it would be better to keep on and lie in there for dinner. But whenthe _Adventurer_ had passed into Vineyard Sound Steve began to wish hehad waited. A bank of grey mist hid the island toward which they wereheaded and he feared they would find themselves in it before they couldreach the nearest harbour, which was Vineyard Haven. But since the_Adventurer_ had already left Wood's Holl two miles behind and VineyardHaven Harbour was only some four miles further it seemed silly to turnback. There was always the chance that the fog would blow off, besides.Nevertheless Steve frowned dubiously through the moist pane ahead and,without saying anything of his fears to the rest, drew the throttle afew notches down and kept the _Adventurer_ close to her course. Behind,the _Follow Me_ speeded up as well and the two boats hurried for where,out of sight in the grey void ahead, West Chop pointed a blunt nose tosea.

  But it was a losing race, for ten minutes later Steve saw that the fogbank was rolling down upon them and from somewhere to the eastward camethe dismal hoot of a steamer feeling her way along. Joe, too, saw whatthey were in for and turned anxiously to Steve. "That's fog, isn't it?"he asked.

  Steve nodded. "Get the fog-horn ready, will you? We don't want anyonebumping into us. I'm going to slow down to six miles. There's too muchwater here to drop anchor in." He eyed the advancing fog distastefullyand then shrugged his shoulders. "You've got to learn some time, Isuppose, Joe, and here's where I learn to make harbour by the compass.Now we're in it!"

  At that instant the grey mist enveloped them silently, chillingly. Joedrew a long wail from the fog-horn and in response a similar buthigher-keyed wail came through the fog from the _Follow Me_. And at thesame moment the other members of the ship's company stuck inquiringheads through the companion ways.

  "Hello," exclaimed Perry. "Fog! Gee, that's exciting! Say, you can't seea thing, can you? Look, fellows, the boat hasn't any bow!"

  "Nor any stern," added Han. "You can almost taste the stuff. Say, Steve,isn't it hard to steer in a fog?
"

  "Not a bit," answered Steve cheerfully. "Steering's perfectly easy. Theonly trouble is to steer right."

  "To-o-ot!" said the fog-horn and was answered from astern. Thensomewhere to the south-eastward a siren sent a wailing cry, subdued bydistance. The fog settled on everything and shone on the boys' sweatersin little beads of moisture. The _Adventurer_ seemed to be standingstill, for, with nothing to judge by, progress was made known only bythe slow lazy throb of the engine. Even the water alongside was scarcelydiscernible. Joe pulled the lever of the fog-horn again, and this time,beside the response from the _Follow Me_, an answering bellow cameacross the water.

  "A steamer," muttered Steve, peering uselessly into the grey void."She's a good ways off, though. Give her another pull, Joe."

  Again the _Adventurer_ proclaimed her position but there was no answerfrom the steamer. "She doesn't seem very talkative," said Phil. "Howfast are we going, Steve?"

  "Six."

  "And how far is Edgartown?"

  "About twelve, but we're not going there. I'm trying to make VineyardHaven. It's only about two miles." He glanced puzzledly at the compassand moved the wheel a fraction. "There's a jetty comes out there and Iguess we'd better give it a good wide berth." Collars were pulled up tokeep the moisture from creeping down necks, and Perry begged to beallowed to manipulate the fog-horn. He went at it whole-souledly andSteve had to curb his enthusiasm. "Once a minute will do, Perry," hesaid. "You sound like a locomotive scaring a cow off the track."

  "How do you know there isn't a cow ahead?" demanded Perry. "Or a whale?Gee, wouldn't it be a surprise if we bust right into a whale? Who wouldget the worst of it, Steve?"

  "I guess we would. Shut up a minute, fellows, please!"

  Silence held the bridge deck, silence save for the subdued purr of theengine under their feet and the drip, drip of the drops from the awningedge. Steve peered anxiously ahead, his senses alert. At last:

  "Hear anything?" he asked.

  They all said no.

  "I guess I was mistaken then," Steve explained, "but I could have swornI heard surf." He leaned over the chart. "This doesn't show anything,though, nearer than the land. Toot your horn, Perry."

  Perry obeyed. At long intervals the unseen, distant steamer bellowed herwarning and more frequently the _Follow Me_ groaned dismally on a handhorn. It was ten minutes later, perhaps, when Steve suddenly swungaround and looked back past the bow of the dingey on the after cabinroof.

  "That's funny!" he exclaimed. "The _Follow Me_ sounded away over there!"He looked anxiously at the compass, hesitated and shook his head. "If Ididn't know this thing was all right, fellows, I'd say it was crazy. Orif there was a strong current here--" His voice dwindled away to amurmur as he studied the chart again. Just then the _Follow Me's_fog-horn sounded and it was undeniably further away and well over toport. "Either he's off his course or I am," muttered Steve. "And Isimply don't see how I can be. Give them a long one, Perry!"

  Perry sent a frantic wail across the water and they listened intently.But no reply came from the _Follow Me_. Instead, from somewhere offtheir port bow travelled the steamer's bellow. That, too, seemedconsiderably further away. Then the distant siren sounded, and afterthat there was silence again. But the silence lasted only a moment, forbefore anyone could hazard a conjecture as to the _Follow Me's_ erraticbehaviour, Phil's voice arose warningly.

  "Listen, Steve!" he cried. "Isn't that surf I hear?"