Читать книгу The Wireless Operator—With the U. S. Coast Guard онлайн

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“I must have indigestion,” he muttered to himself. “Maybe I ate something that didn’t agree with me.”

He kept getting sicker and sicker. Soon he suspected that he was seasick. Finally he could stand it on the bridge no longer. Trying hard to control himself, he said good-night to Lieutenant Hill, and made his way with trembling limbs down the ladder to the deck. Like a drunken man he went reeling aft, for the ship was beginning to roll. When he reached the after companionway, he felt worse than ever, for the motion was much more noticeable than it had been forward or amidship. He could stand it no longer. Making his way unsteadily to the leeward rail, he leaned over it and vomited. He had never felt so sick in his life. Every minute he seemed to feel worse. He was so weak he was afraid he would fall over the rail. He decided that he would try to get to his bunk.

He turned and started toward the companionway, when the ship rolled far over on her side. As though he were shot out of a cannon Henry went plunging across the deck. There was nothing he could grasp to stop himself. With terrific force he went crashing into the windward rail and was flung partly over it. With all the power at his command he clung to the rail as he balanced on top of it. For a moment his heart almost ceased to beat. He was afraid he was going overboard. His feet were clear of the deck. His body was half over the rail. All he could do was to cling fast, in the hope that he wouldn’t slide any further. But his position was so awkward he was fearful he could not keep himself from plunging on over into the sea. Suddenly the ship heeled in the other direction. Henry was flung back from the rail as violently as he had just shot into it. This time he struck the companionway. He grasped the door, opened it, took a grip on the handrail, and tottered down the steps. He found the captain’s cabin deserted. The commander had to go on watch later in the night, and was sleeping in preparation for it. Henry got to his stateroom, undressed, pulled on his nightclothes, and with a feeling of relief slid into his bunk. He had lost all interest in the sea and wireless and derelicts. His one hope now was that he would live until the Iroquois got back to port and he could get ashore.