captain or mate or even a steward, but that
a crew was absolutely essential. He declared his intention of purchasing
a yachting cap at the first port of call and having the inscription
"Crew" worked on it in gold bullion.

When the _Adventurer_ left her berth each member of the boat's company
was at his post, or, at least, at what he surmised to be his post.
Steve, of course, was at the control, Joe, with the hatches up, was
watching his engine approvingly, Phil, boat-hook in hand, was on the
forward deck, Perry hovered around Steve, begging to be allowed to blow
the whistle, Ossie and Neil watched from opposite sides of the bridge
deck and Han, in the role of crew, hitched his trousers at intervals,
touched his cap when anyone so much as looked at him and said "Ay, ay,
sir!" at the slightest provocation. And with all hands on duty the
cruiser pointed her white bow towards The Narrows.

Steve never took his eyes from the course for more than a moment until
they had passed Coney Island Light, for there were many craft bustling
or slopping about and it really required some navigation to get through
The Narrows and past Gravesend Bay without running into something. Perry
suspected that Steve was working the whistle overtime, but realized that
too many precautions were better than too few. It was Perry's ambition
to learn navigation so that he might ultimately be entrusted with the
wheel, and to that end he stood at Steve's elbow until, when they gained
the Main Channel, Ossie's dulcet voice was heard proclaiming, "Grub,
fellows!" from below. Steve was rather too preoccupied to be very
informative, but Perry did manage to imbibe some information. For
instance, he learned that a sailing craft had the right of way over a
power craft, something he had not known previously, and observed that a
large proportion of them used that right to its limit. He got quite
incensed with a small, blunt-nosed schooner which insisted on crossing
the _Adventurer's_ course just as they were passing Fort Hamilton. Steve
had to slow down rather hurriedly to avoid a collision and Perry viewed
the two occupants of the schooner's deck with a scowl as they lazed
across the cruiser's bows.

"Cheeky beggars," he muttered.

He also learned the whistle code that morning: one blast for starboard,
two for port, four short blasts for danger and three for going astern.
Joe, who had applied oil to every part of the engine that he could
reach, supplied the