White Bluffs spokesman. [volume] (White Bluffs, Wash.) 1907-1938, 1929-07-19
eBy
LOWELL THOMAS
Copyright by
Doubleday. Doran & Co.

Cue Cdptdlu ulu uOL Uuucr5Iduu, DEluS
up captains numbers five and nine."
While we waited, l invited my
mournful guest to have some more
champagne, but he refused and con.
tinued holding his head and moaning.
A knock at the door.
"Come in."
And in walked the captains Of the
Antonin and the La Rochefoucauld.
They had been on board ten and three
days respectively.
The captain of the Duplex gaped.
"Eh, tout la France!" he cried.
Full Of ironical enthusiasm, he
raised his glass of champagne and
saluted them. Then with JOY that he
made no effort to conceal, he clasped
the hands of the two captains whose
advice he had scorned and who had
encountered the same fate as he.
They returned his welcome with q
grim humor.
The presence Of these three cap
tains aboard the Seeadler represented
q loss of ten thousand tons of salt
petre destined for French powder
mills, and saving of hundreds, per-
haps thousands Of German lives.
One Sunday morning, we sighted a
large British barque and started after
her. She thought we were playfully
challenging her to race, and tried to
run away. don't know whether we
could have caught her In straight
sailing ship against sailing ship con-
test; at any rate, our motor gave US
the edge.
A strange feeling came over me as
we gained on her and as her lines
became more distinct. 1t was sense
of sadness and Of vague. dimly dawn
ing recollection. Had seen that ship
before? Was it possible -.
"Signal and ask her for her name,"
I called.
Our signal flag went aloft. The re-
ply came back:
"Pinmore."
All, my old Pinmore, on which
had made the longest and most har
rowing voyage Of my life. Memories
swept over me of those endless storms
and of the disease on board, beri-berl,
scurvy. My whole being seemed to
leap back to the days of my youth.
Homesickness seized me. could not
say a word to Leudemann, who stood
beside me.
mo use, the ship must be SUNK" a
harsh inner voice told me.
It was hard for me to sink any sail
ing vessel, but doubly cruel to have to
sink my old ship. felt as though
she were a kind mother. No sailor
with any kind of sailors soul in him
will raise a hand against his own ship.
We took her as we had taken the
others. When her crew came aboard.
looked for familiar faces. There
were none. The skipper, Captain Mul.
len, came up to me with humorous,
seamanly air."
swell, Captain, our hard luck is
your good luck"
"Lucky?" j felt like saying. do
you call this lucky?"
he was typical OLD seaman, AFRAID
neither of enemy in war nor storms at
sea. The seven seas had been his
home. Like the sailing ship, the old
time windjammer captain is vanishing
Captain Mullen was indeed like the
king of a vanishing race. He staggered
down below, and saluted our other
shippers with jovial air. he soon
became the leading figure of the Gap.
tains' club"
When every one had left the Pin
more, had boat take me over to
her. clambered aboard and sent the
boat and Its crew back, telling them
would give them hail when
wanted them again.
"Why does the Count want to re.
main alone aboard herr" heard one
of them say.
went to the fo'c'sle. There was
my bunk, the same old bunk where
had slept night after night for months
and had tumbled out countless times
at the command "all hands on deck"
while those endless storms bore down
upon us. paced the planks on deck
where had stood watch SO often.
1t seemed as though l had never
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