And then
their silvery lines spread slowly away on both sides as though
unseen hands were pulling them out in even terraces that broke
tip on the rocks with a deafening roar. Back of the first wave
was another, and farther back still others, that advanced to a
certain point and then spread out evenly, like terraced cascades
of purest marble.
The loud crashes of thunder mingled with the shriek of the wind,
the booming breakers became more awful, and we could imagine
unknown foes advancing to combat along the shore. Like phalanxes
with walls of silver shields they followed each other swiftly
and disappeared like a line of soldiers cut down in battle. The
howling wind and moaning waves "were like laments for the
vanquished hosts." This ceaseless welter of the elements became
more awe-inspiring as another boat appeared in the distance like
some fiery monster of the deep. It seemed the very spirit of the
sullen storm. As it drew nearer we beheld a vast fortress
besieged by the angry waves.
The desolateness of the scene was heightened by listening to
George relate his tales of storm and disaster while homeward
bound on the U. S. S. Roanoke in Mine Squadron One.
"We left England in the month of December. The first day at sea
was fine. No fear or anxious moments were ours. We sped swiftly
over the peaceful water that glittered with a dazzling metallic
luster. In the level rays of the morning sun we beheld a
gradation of rare tints 'infinitely harmonious and yet
superlatively rich.' A short distance away from us the ocean was
deep blue; nearer it was light green, while far out toward the
horizon it attained that iridescence which is indescribable.
Everyone on board was supremely happy. All ten mine layers with
the flagship had their homeward bound pennants flying. We gazed
for hours at the play of light on the water, ever discovering
new and wonderful combinations.
"The second day out we ran into a storm that lasted three days
and nights. The dismal curtains of the sky were drawn and we
could hear the sullen tone of the advancing storm as onward we
plowed through the ever-growing foam-crested waves. The second
day the sea became awesome, and breathlessly we watched each
mountain wave that swept past leaving us still unharmed. Great
masses of frothing billows came hurtling out of the gloom, which
grew blacker and more menacing every hour. The sight of the
ships tossing upon the mountainous masses was ominous, almost
appalling. The billows broke with deafening roar, hurling tons
of water on board, often filling the spacious decks fore and aft
with their seething flood.
"About the middle of the second day the storm began gradually to
abate.
