lay safely ensconced in the harbour at
St. John's. Here she was sold by auction, and part of the proceeds
divided as her ransom to her plucky salvors.

The money which could be especially devoted to the new steamer for
Labrador, over and above the general expenses, was not forthcoming
until 1899, when the contract for building the ship was given to a
firm at Dartmouth in Devon. The chief donor of the new boat was again
Lord Strathcona, after whom she was subsequently named.

On June 27, 1899, the Strathcona was launched, and christened by Lady
Curzon-Howe. When the word was given to let go, without the slightest
hitch or roll the ship slid steadily down the ways into the water. The
band played "Eternal Father," "God save the Queen," and "Life on the
Ocean Wave." Lord Curzon-Howe was formerly commodore upon the station
embracing the Newfoundland and Labrador coast. Lord Strathcona
regretted his enforced absence and sent "Godspeed" to the new steamer.

She arrived at Gorleston July 18, proving an excellent sea-boat, with
light coal consumption. She is larger than the vessel in which Drake
sailed round the world, or Dampier raided the Spanish Main, or than
the Speedy, which Earl Dundonald made the terror of the French and
Spanish.

In the fall of 1899 the hull of the Strathcona was completely
finished, and I brought her round, an empty shell, to fit her up at
our Yarmouth wharf; after which, in company with a young Oxford
friend, Alfred Beattie, we left for the Labrador, crossing to Tilt
Cove, Newfoundland, direct from Swansea in an empty copper ore tanker,
the Kilmorack. On this I was rated as purser at twenty-five cents for
the trip. Most tramps can roll, but an empty tanker going west against
prevailing winds in the "roaring forties" can certainly give points to
the others. Her slippery iron decks and the involuntary sideways
excursions into the scuppers still spring into my mind when a certain
Psalm comes round in the Church calendar, with its "that thy footsteps
slip not." We were a little delayed by what is known as wind-jamming,
and we used to kill time by playing tennis in the huge empty hold.
This occupation, under the circumstances, supplied every kind of
diversion.

The mine at Tilt Cove is situated in a hole in the huge headland which
juts out far into the Atlantic, in the northern end of Newfoundland.
Communication in these days was very meagre. No vessel would be
available for us to get North for a fort