SEA FOG.

Auckland Star, Volume LIV, Issue 148, 23 June 1923, Page 24

SEA FOG.

(By "TAFFRAIL.") Tin- palo disc of the sun shone fitfully - through mist overhanging the calm, I windless sea in bunches like rising steam. ! The light, cruiser was steaming up ! I Channel, and her position was tolerably I well known, but she. was in a portion lof the sea densely crowded with ship- ' I The ship was in charge of the officer of : the watch, a young lieutenant, who paced ijup and down, to ami fro, across the i j narrow conlincß of the upper bridge. He • was alone. Like all seamen he hated • i thick weather, particularly with traffic I about, and wished for a breeze to clear ' it. Little beads of moisture powdered ■jliis blue, overcoat. He shivered, stamp- ', ing , liis feet and shifting the useless glasses hanging round his neck. It was jcold and clammy. He longed for the ■ warmth and comfort of the wardroom. The silence was disturbed only by the • gurgle of the bow wave, the deep hum- < ming of the stokehold fans, and the i'sound of conversation on the lower ''bridge. Kxrept for a couple of black and .white divers, which upended their quaint little sterns and vanished as the I ship sped past, the sea was empty. I A low-hanging wall of whitish j vapour dead ahead. The officer looked at it. and as il rapidly grew thicker gave a sudden order through a voice pipe. Instantly a telegraph tinkled on the' ! lower bridge and reply gongs from the engine room clanged in answer. "Start the siren!" ho ordered. "Messenger—go and tell the captain and navigating oflicer it's coming on very thick, and I've eased to eight'knots— Kxtra look-outs on the forecastle— I Sounding party stand by." There was. nothing else to be done, for watertight doors were already closed. Speed dropped until the ship seemed barely to be moving. A sudden wave of clammier moisture—thick fog. in which the sharp bows were barely discernible. .The siren screeched harshly into the |gre3'ness. A faint answering wail to port. Another, a deeper booming note, line on the starboard bow. Steamers. The officer of the watch listened intently, trying to judge their bearings. I '-Sound one blast! Port twonty!" he ordered, as the vessel on the starboard bow suddenly gave tongue close at hand. The siren yelped as the cruiser swung I rapidly to starboard. An answering ] , yelp from ahead. i Two minutes' suspense, and then tTie sounds of a ship passing a few hundreds of yards away to port: but wholly invisible. The noise of escaping steam, followed by a deep-throated bellow as her whistle boomed. '"A bit close!" said the captain, arrivI ing on the bridge as his little ship rnckod uneasily in the heavy wash. '•Damned pirate! Going much too fast." . The light cruiser swung back to ncr 'course and crept on. groping her way through the murk with the whistles of passing ships sounding about her. Once or twice she altered course to avoid them. But even fog at pea cannot last lor ever. By noon there was brijftit funlight, with the blue line of the distant I coast visible to starboard. Nearer at i hand the familiar red of a lightship.