Saltus Grammar School - Yearbook (Hamilton, Bermuda)

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30 I waited for a day when the winds were light. I got through the window and told my son to follow me. I saw that his wings were secure, then we jumped off and rose up in the air. The people thought that we were gods as we were flying for a distant island. My son kept flying higher and higher till the heat of the sun melted the wax; the feathers began to drop out, and he started to fall. I heard a great cry and flew back to help him, but when I got there, I saw nothing but the feathers floating about, which told me that he was drowned. I flew to the nearest Island and hung my wings on an altar as an offering, and promised never to use them again. I named the island Icaria after my son, John Pitt, II, A TEST FOR ANY SAILOR It was not until late in the afternoon of June 6th, 1926, that we had com- pleted the task of preparing our small yawl for her long sea voyage, which we were to begin the following day. At five o ' clock the next morning we slowly glided out over the reefs at the western end of Bermuda, just in time to witness the rising of the sun, which cast a beautiful golden glow over the eastern heavens. With the cool southerly morning breeze, which freshened slightly as we entered the great Atlantic, we soon were gliding swiftly on our way with her bows headed for the great American Continent in a north-westerly direction. We left our beautiful Bermuda behind us in the faint mist which still hung over the sleeping isle, covering its low wave-like hills with its greyish beauty. By noon the faint grey line of Bermuda which had grown fainter and fainter in the distance, had completely vanished, leaving us only with the sub-tropical sun blazing down on our deck, the long rolling ocean and the ever refreshing sea breeze, which never failed to give us an excellent appetite. All afternoon the wind kept at a steady rate, but by sun-set it freshened, and blew a stiff night breeze from the east, which sent our little craft through the water at about twelve knots. The sun-set was beautiful, with its grand golden glow reflecting on the clouds that appeared to nestle around it, whilst the whole ocean seemed to shine with its brilliance. Gradually it changed: the sky became dimmer, and the sea darker with a greyish blackness that makes one feel lonely and depressed. Then came the profound greyness of the entire surroundings, save for the ocean which had become jet black and more angry looking than before. It seemed to heave our little craft up and down angrily with some unknown vengeance that never seemed to cease, but only to become more angry with the inky blackness of the mid-Atlantic night. Having lit our starboard and port lights, and lashed her helm, we went below lo her small but comfortable cabin, where we spent most of the evening listening to the old seaman Vic tell yarns of his adventures.

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29 could. You help me to take these bottom board off, they will help to keep us up. Harry, let slack on that mainsail. That ' s right, now we ' re set even if we do sink. But the boat won ' t sink, said Harry, It ' s made of wood. What with the weight of the wet sails, (for they had got wet from the spray) and the centreboard, I ' m afraid it mi ght. At any rate, Daddy will soon be here and he will rescue us. At that moment a wave came over the side, and the boat was already half-full. Be ready! said Dick. Keep a tight hold on this board, if it does sink, Arnold! At that moment they could hear the engines of their father ' s motor boat. Just as they thought the boat was going to sink, the keel touched some- thing hard. Then the Fleet-wing stopped sinking for it was resting on some rocks. About a minute afterwards they were pulled onto their father ' s boat. The Fleetwing was then secured to the back of the motor boat, and when Dick asked if it would sink, his father laughed and said, Of course it won ' t, it ' s made of wood. Told you so, said Harry, who had recovered from his scare. The motor-boat soon reached home, and although Dick was scolded, his father knew that he was not to be blamed, and had the Fleet-wing repaired for him. Beavis, IV. ICARUS AND DAEDALUS I was drawing my plans for King Minos of Crete when I made a mis- take which he did not like. He said that if I did not have it corrected by morning, he would imprison me. I left it behind and forgot to correct it. I came the next morning, and he asked if I had finished it. I told him I had not. He said that I was to go to prison with my son, Icarus. As my son and I sat at the window of our prison, I was wondering how we could escape. I was watching for hours a seagull sailing through the air. He would flap his great wings and range for a while looking for his young ones. After he had fed them, he began to teach them one after the other to fly. They could flap their tiny wings and flutter about, while he would get underneath them and help them to fly. As I watched them, I though of a plan. A week or two after, some feathers floated in at my window. I piled them up, till I thought I had enough to make a pair of wings for myself and a small pair for my son. I found some wax in the holes in the wall. I moulded it out in the shape of a wing and carefully fitted the feathers in it. I learned how to fly and taught my son too. I told him not to fly too high or the sun would melt the wax and the feathers would drop out, or too low for the mist of the earth would make him lose his way and he would fall and be killed. Finally we could fly very well.

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31 About ten o ' clock the wind became much stronger, and shifted to the south-east, blowing at about sixty miles an hour. We were all called on deck to trim sail, which in such a breeze was no easy work. The mainsail on the foremast was the most difficult to handle, for it was a huge spread of canvas rising to a height of 46 feet above the deck, and 23 feet along the boom. Two of us were ordered to man the halyard, one was at the helm, while the other three lashed in the sail as we let it down. We had worked at this sail for fully an hour, and by this time the wind was blowing a strong south-east gale, sending the seas high over her deck, flooding the cockpit and rushing off into the foaming fury, that boiled around us, every minute threatening our frail craft and crashing pitilessly on her tiny deck. We had scarcely finished lashing the mainsail down, when a huge sea struck the after part of the boat, carrying away with it the sail on the mizzen mast, but fortunately doing no damage to the mast itself. Our next task was to get the jib down and to lash the boom on the mizzen mast in place. Clinging to the mast, I managed with great difficulty to uncleat the jib halyards. Out the jibs flew in the wind, and after another half-hour ' s work, we succeeded in securing them and finishing our long and exhausting task, which we found had taken two and three-quarter hours. As the wind had dropped considerably we were able to leave one man on deck, while the rest of us went below to try to get a little sleep if possible. Whether the rest did or not, I am unable to say, for on throwing myself down on my bunk, I fell into a dreamless sleep of exhaustion. I was awakened some hours later by the first watchman, who told me that it was my turn to go on watch. I went on deck and found that the gale had passed over, and though it was still dark the stars twinkled brightly above me. The wind blew gently from the south again, and the ocean was calm compared with its state a few hours before. I seated myself at the helm and gazed wonderingly at the crowded heaven, for there was nothing else for me to do. Thus I passed an hour in the star-lit darkness until the sky began to lighten in the east. The first sign of the sun ' s rising was a long, low bar of golden light, which brightened gradually until the whole eastern heaven was a blaze of gorgeous beauty. This was worth all my night ' s toil, for never have I seen anything as beautiful as that sunrise. All were on deck by 5.30 a.m., and I retired to finish my night ' s sleep. About five in the morning of the fourth day at sea, we sighted the long gray line of America, dimly visible by the faint light of the rising sun, and by noon the tall sky-scrapers of New York could be seen clearly as we glided up the Hudson River, and into the yacht-yard where we were to prepare for the race back to Bermuda. W. T. Conyers, V-