el to her skipper's heave, came down
by the wreck of a big three-master on the inner beach, and around and
up opposite what looked like a building on the hill. Then it was down
with the wheel, down with headsails, let go fore-halyards, over with
the anchor, and there she was, another fisherman of Gloucester, at
rest in harbor after an all-night fight with a lively breeze.

And I left the master of the coaster there and went back to the
Duncan, where the crew were standing along the rail or leaning over
the house and having a lot of fun sizing up those who were coming in.
It is one of the enjoyments of the seining fleet--this racing to
harbor when it blows and then watching the others work in. I've heard
it said that no place in the world can show a fleet like them--all
fine vessels, from one hundred to one hundred and twenty feet over
all, deep draught, heavily sparred, and provided with all kinds of
sail. They were ably managed, of course,--and a dash to port makes the
finest kind of a regatta. No better chances are offered to try vessels
and seamanship--no drifting or flukes but wind enough for all hands
and on all points of sailing generally.

They came swooping in one after the other--like huge sea-gulls, only
with wings held close. Now, with plenty of light, those already in
could easily see the others coming long before they rounded the jetty.
Even if we couldn't see the hulls of them, there were fellows who
could name them--one vessel after the other--just by the spars and
upper rigging. The cut of a topsail, the look of a mast-head, the set
of a gaff--the smallest little thing was enough to place them, so well
were they acquainted with one another. And the distance at which some
of them could pick out a vessel was amazing.

George Moore, coming up out of the forec's'le to dump over some
scraps, spied one. "The Mary Grace Adams," he sang out,--"the
shortest forem'st out of Gloucester. She must've been well inside when
she started--to get in at this time. Slow--man, but she is slow, that
one."

"Yes, that's the old girl, and behind her is the Dreamer--Charlie
Green--black mast-heads and two patches on her jumbo. She'll be in and
all fast before the Mary Grace's straightened out."

And so it was--almost. The Mary Adams was one of the older fleet and
never much of a sailer. The Dreamer was one of the newer vessels,
able, and a big sailer. They were well raked by the critics, as under
their four lowers they whi