,
and then report myself at the wharf, where I was due at 3 a.m. About
half an hour later we would man a lighter, pick up a thick Manila rope
from the bottom of the river, lay it between the chocks, and haul out
across the bar to the roadstead where the ships were anchored. From the
main warp others branched off in various directions, and by means of
one of these we would get as close to the ship which we were
discharging as we could. Then the lighter would be towed alongside.

All going well, we were usually back at the wharf at 2.30 p.m. with the
boat loaded. But things did not invariably go well; the wind had a
habit of springing up suddenly, and the breakers 011 the bar would
follow suit. Under such circumstances we often had to cast off from the
vessel's side and anchor in a tumbling sea, with only a small portion
of the appointed cargo on board. Perhaps, if it were not considered too
dangerous, Captain Jackson might come out with the harbor tug and tow
us in; otherwise we ran the risk of having to remain all night on the
lighter.

The work was apt to be very dangerous indeed. It was nothing so very
unusual for a boat to capsize on the bar and for half the crew to be
drowned. Once only had I to swim for my life; on that occasion all in
the boat escaped. But a few weeks afterwards a lighter capsized under
almost similar circumstances, and either four or five of those on board
lost their lives.

My most striking experience in this connection happened one day towards
the end of my term of service with the boating company. We were
alongside a French vessel, the Notre Dame de la Garde, taking in boxes
of Gossage's blue mottled soap. Before we had received more than a
quarter of our appointed cargo, the wind and the sea rose suddenly
together. We had to cast off from the vessel, and in getting clear the
lighter shipped some water. Before we got the hatches fixed, a number
of the boxes had broken up, and the fragments, mixed with bars of soap,
were awash. It was about eight o'clock in the morning when we cast
loose and dropped our anchor.

The wind increased to a gale; this brought a bitterly cold rain. We
bobbed and curtsied at the end of our cable until about four in the
afternoon, listening to Gossage's products churning and lathering down
below. It grew colder and colder; we were wet to the skin and almost
numbed. A consultation was held, and it was unanimously decided that
the risk of drowning was preferable to