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Like all pilot-boats, the Hermann Oelrichs was built low in the water, so that it was easy to jump aboard. Her sails were furled and, from the quiet prevailing, one might have supposed that the crew had gone into the village. No sound issued until we reached the companionway. Then below we could see the cook scraping cold ashes out of a fireless stove. He was cleaning the cabin and putting things to rights before the pilots arrived. He accepted our intrusion with a friendly glance.

“Captain Rierson told us to come aboard,” we said.

“All right, sir. Stow your things in any one of them bunks.”

We went about this while the ashes were taken out and tossed overboard. When the cook returned it was with a bucket and brush, and he attacked the oilcloth on the floor industriously.

“Cozy little cabin, this, eh?”

“Yes, she’s a comfortable little boat,” replied the cook. “These pilots take things purty comfortable. She’s not as fast as some of the boats, but she’s all right in rough weather.”

“Do you encounter much rough weather?”