| OCR Text |
Show many aboard my awkward rowing didn't make for breathless speed. Father had run out of suitable lumber before he reached the oars. They were a bit stubby and narrow. The oarlocks didn't lock-they were only wooden pins he'd driven into holes drilled in the gunwales. In my lack of skill the oars slipped back and forth between the pins, But few boys came to see me on the desert and fewer trusted themselves to me and my skiff. However, the ponds were mostly narrow and the distance to "islands" was short. In a few days Father came up with a stimulating idea: "step" a mast on her and hoist a sail. He found me a six-foot pole and Mother contrived a "leg-o-^mutton sail. I tied it between the mast and a boom that swung just clear of the boat. The Nada Cruiser or Pedro was a success as a windjammer for of wind we had plenty. Wind also meant waves, sometimes a foot high. Sailing before a high wind was my greatest thrill-just to loll back in the stern and guide the boat with a line to the outboard end of the boom. (Observe how I added sailor terms to my vocabulary as I went along, with the help of Father and diagrams in a dictionary.) One trouble with sailing was that the ponds were a bit narrow for tacking or sailing into the wind, especially since my boat had neither rudder nor centerboard. The more thrilling the plunging ride before a stiff gale the harder it was to row back, even though I found a way to lay the mast down to reduce wind resistance. I lengthened the voyage down in various ways, zigzagging from side to side. Sometimes I landed on the "islands" or brush-grown hummocks where the water had overrun the borrow pit and covered the lower end of the swale. Imagination could turn me into Columbus making his first landing on a West Indian isle and greeting naked savages, although my "jungle" was only a few rabbitbrush or greasewood bushes. Occasionally I took a lunch of sardines and crackers and cheese ashore. That was the Robinson Crusoe bit. |
