Job
First Post
At Last!
Because of--or possibly despite--everyone's continuing nervous vigilance, no further incidents interfered with the expedition's preparations for departure.
How all of the things that eventually got on board were squeezed in was amazing; for with an unsuspected necromancy, Professor Moore managed to find a place for everything, although the pile of supplies still awaiting a place seemed to grow larger and the space of the Gabrielle, pitifully small to begin with, seemed to shrink before our eyes. At last the hold was full; there was room for not another box below, so Moore began to load the decks. Food boxes and gasoline drums were ranged about it until the waist of the ship became so deep with things that some pathways on the main deck could only support single file traffic.
As the weights of supplies in her mounted, the Gabrielle settled gradually. This, with the fact that an immoderately large part of her load was above decks, gave rise to some uneasiness. In fact, the day before we put to sea, an old sailing man, who had been watching operations with a disapproving eye, came up and said: "You're taking an awful chance with that ship. She'll ship green water every roll. You don't know what storms are until you get into the 'Sixties.' I've been there and I know." Commander Starkweather led the man away, assuring him that we knew what we were doing.
All the crew and party members gathered together on board ship for the first time on the morning of September 11th, 1933, three days after originally planned, and the Gabrielle set sail at last, early that afternoon.
The skies were covered with high, thin clouds; the sea was choppy; a number of small boats turned out to watch as the ship saluted the Statue of Liberty, and continued alone south into the Atlantic Ocean.
Headed southward at last. After years of anticipation and months of preparation.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Job (the tortured one).
Because of--or possibly despite--everyone's continuing nervous vigilance, no further incidents interfered with the expedition's preparations for departure.
How all of the things that eventually got on board were squeezed in was amazing; for with an unsuspected necromancy, Professor Moore managed to find a place for everything, although the pile of supplies still awaiting a place seemed to grow larger and the space of the Gabrielle, pitifully small to begin with, seemed to shrink before our eyes. At last the hold was full; there was room for not another box below, so Moore began to load the decks. Food boxes and gasoline drums were ranged about it until the waist of the ship became so deep with things that some pathways on the main deck could only support single file traffic.
As the weights of supplies in her mounted, the Gabrielle settled gradually. This, with the fact that an immoderately large part of her load was above decks, gave rise to some uneasiness. In fact, the day before we put to sea, an old sailing man, who had been watching operations with a disapproving eye, came up and said: "You're taking an awful chance with that ship. She'll ship green water every roll. You don't know what storms are until you get into the 'Sixties.' I've been there and I know." Commander Starkweather led the man away, assuring him that we knew what we were doing.
All the crew and party members gathered together on board ship for the first time on the morning of September 11th, 1933, three days after originally planned, and the Gabrielle set sail at last, early that afternoon.
The skies were covered with high, thin clouds; the sea was choppy; a number of small boats turned out to watch as the ship saluted the Statue of Liberty, and continued alone south into the Atlantic Ocean.
Headed southward at last. After years of anticipation and months of preparation.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Job (the tortured one).
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