[Illustration: cover art]
SEA SCOUTS ALL
BLACKIE & SON LIMITED
50 Old Bailey, LONDON
17 Stanhope Street, GLASGOW
BLACKIE & SON (INDIA) LIMITED
Warwick House, Fort Street, BOMBAY
BLACKIE & SON (CANADA) LIMITED
1118 Bay Street, TORONTO
[Illustration: SHE SIMPLY LAY OVER AND REFUSED TO RECOVER]
SEA SCOUTS ALL
How the "Olivette"
was Won
BY
PERCY F. WESTERMAN
_Illustrated by Charles Pears_
BLACKIE & SON LIMITED
LONDON AND GLASGOW
By Percy F. Westerman
Rivals of the Reef.
A Shanghai Adventure.
Pat Stobart in the "Golden Dawn".
The Junior Cadet.
Captain Starlight.
The Sea-Girt Fortress.
On the Wings of the Wind.
Captured at Tripoli.
Captain Blundell's Treasure.
The Third Officer.
Unconquered Wings.
The Buccaneers of Boya.
The Riddle of the Air.
Chums of the "Golden Vanity".
The Luck of the "Golden Dawn".
Clipped Wings.
The Salving of the "Fusi Yama".
Winning his Wings.
A Lively Bit of the Front.
A Cadet of the Mercantile Marine.
The Good Ship "Golden Effort".
East in the "Golden Gain".
The Quest of the "Golden Hope".
Sea Scouts Abroad.
Sea Scouts Up-Channel.
The Wireless Officer.
A Lad of Grit.
The Submarine Hunters.
Sea-Scouts All.
The Thick of the Fray.
A Sub and a Submarine.
Under the White Ensign.
The Fight for Constantinople.
With Beatty off Jutland.
_Printed in Great Britain by Blackie & Son, Ltd., Glasgow_
Contents
CHAP.
I. THE SCOUTMASTER'S PLAN
II. TWO OFFERS
III. THE "OLIVETTE"
IV. PETER TO THE RESCUE
V. DOWN STREAM
VI. THIEVES
VII. STRANDED
VIII. A TOW
IX. CAUGHT OUT
X. WOODLEIGH THE PILOT
XI. THE "ROSALIE"
XII. THE SQUALL
XIII. A FIND ON THE GUNFLEET
XIV. BRUIN
XV. BRUIN'S VINDICATION
XVI. DOWN CHANNEL
XVII. ON HER BEAM ENDS
XVIII. WEATHERBOUND
XIX. THE PATROL-LEADER SCORES
XX. SALVAGE
XXI. "PIPE DOWN"
Illustrations
SHE SIMPLY LAY OVER AND REFUSED TO RECOVER
_Frontispiece_
THE SKIFF TAKES THE ROPE ASHORE
RAISING HIS VOICE, HE SHOUTED, "LET GO!"
IT WAS WITH FEELINGS OF RELIEF THAT STRATTON
SAW THE RESCUED ANIMAL LIFTED INTO THE BOAT
"STAND CLEAR OF THE HAWSER AS SHE TAKES UP THE STRAIN"
SEA SCOUTS ALL
CHAPTER I
The Scoutmaster's Plan
"What's the state of the treasury, Peter?" inquired Scoutmaster
Armitage.
"Sixteen pounds, sixteen shillings, and sixpence, sir," replied
Patrol-leader Peter Stratton of the 1st Milford Sea Scouts. "That
includes the profits from our latest concert."
"Hardly enough to buy a boat in these days of dear wages and
materials," commented the Scoutmaster. "I'm very much afraid that our
plans for acquiring a little cruiser will have to be deferred to a
more favourable season--next year, perhaps."
"After all, sir," said Dick Roche, "we can rub along with our present
boat. She's not much to look at, but we get quite a good deal of fun
out of her."
The Milford Sea Scouts had been in existence only since the war.
Under the scoutmastership of Mr. Armitage--late lieutenant
R.N.V.R.--eight promising and undoubtedly keen youths were being
grounded in the principles of seamanship and coastal navigation. The
troop laboured under great disadvantages, but, as Dick Roche the
optimist remarked, overcoming difficulties is often the best part of
the game.
For one thing, Milford, although on the sea, possesses what is known
as an open beach, and is unsuited for boating. For another, the lads
had great difficulty in obtaining a boat of any description, owing to
lack of funds and the scarcity of craft of all sorts. But within a
few months of the founding of the troop the Sea Scouts raised the
wind sufficiently to become the proud owners of an ex-naval gig,
which by the aid of paint and varnish was made to look quite smart
and shipshape.
The beach being unsuitable, they kept their boat at Keyhaven, a small
creek a mile or so from Milford, which had the advantage of opening
into the comparatively sheltered waters of the Solent.
Here they learnt to respect the furious tides that surge through
Hurst Channel, to avoid the mudbanks that fringe the Hampshire shore,
and to navigate their somewhat unhandy craft under sail into the
intricate creeks and harbours of the Isle of Wight between Ryde and
the old-world town of Yarmouth.
Their varied experiences only whetted their appetite for bigger
things afloat, and the Scouts' ambition was centred upon the
acquisition of a real yacht with cabin accommodation, so that they
would be able to make extended cruises during the holidays.
Unfortunately, summer found them still short of their cherished goal.
Old yachts, that in pre-war days might have been picked up for a few
pounds, increased in value by leaps and bounds; and even the more
sanguine of the troop had to admit that for the present it looked as
if they would have to be content with their gig.
"Getting up entertainments seems a toshy way of raising funds,"
remarked Peter Stratton. "We give rotten shows. We can't act for
nuts. People buy tickets because they are good-natured. They must
know what they are in for when they hear I'm going to recite, or that
Flemming and Woodleigh are billed to render a duet."
"Quite," agreed Dick Roche. "Pity we can't do something seamanlike. A
bit of salvage, for instance."
He looked wistfully across the open sea, picturing in his mind's eye
a vessel in distress requiring immediate assistance from the Milford
Sea Scouts. Roche was of Cornish descent. His ancestors were probably
wreckers and smugglers, and that possibly accounted for his yearning
for a salvage job.
"Not much chance of that," said Reggie Warkworth. "The Totland Bay
lifeboatmen are always ready for that sort of work, and there are
always pilots knocking around in the Needles Channel."
"Couldn't we all sign on for a voyage in a coaster these holidays,
sir?" inquired Alan Hepburn. "We'd improve our seamanship, and get a
fairly tidy sum towards our new boat. Much better than knocking about
here."
"Quite a sound suggestion of yours, Alan," said the Scoutmaster. "But
it's open to a grave objection. For one thing, seven or eight
youngsters are rather a tall order for one coasting vessel."
"Pity we couldn't get an M.-L." suggested Peter. "Like the one you
had command of, sir."
Mr. Armitage did not reply. He had strong views on that subject. It
was a matter of intense regret to him that the sturdy little fleet of
miniature warships had not been put to better use by the Admiralty
instead of being sold abroad. In a few isolated instances craft of
this type were given by the Admiralty to cadet organizations, but
such instances were few and far between. Already the lessons learnt
by the Great War were being forgotten. One was the need of expert
coastal navigators--men who could confidently take a small craft
where others with deep-sea experience would fail hopelessly. From his
own knowledge Mr. Armitage knew this. He had seen officers, trained
in the Royal Navy and the big shipping companies, literally at sea
when called upon to navigate a light-draughted craft amongst the
shallows of the Thames Estuary, or the sand-banks off the Belgian
coast; while yachtsmen and masters of small coasting vessels, who,
during the Great War, had worn His Majesty's uniform as members of
the once derided "Harry Tate's Navy" could and did perform deeds of
daring in shallow waters under conditions that would have completely
"floored" their deep-sea colleagues.
Armitage had hoped to be able to purchase the M.-L. he once
commanded, and use her profitably and pleasurably for the instruction
of his troop of Sea Scouts. He made a fair offer for her, but his
advances were cold-shouldered by an unsympathetic and incompetent
Small Craft Disposal Board. He had the mortification of seeing his
former command rot at her moorings in an out-of-the-way creek, until
'longshore sharks "pinched" most of her fittings, and finally she was
sold abroad.
"Are you sure the coaster stunt couldn't be worked, sir?" asked Alan
Hepburn, returning to the charge.
"'Fraid not," replied Mr. Armitage. "What we might do is to offer to
take a craft from one port to another. You see there are plenty of
yachts changing hands. Their new owners might want them taken to
other ports, and at the present time crews are both expensive and
difficult to obtain. We could offer to navigate a small craft
anywhere, say, between the Humber and Falmouth. It would give us the
benefit of a fairly long coastal voyage, and as a troop our funds
would benefit. We might even raise enough to buy a ten-ton cutter or
yawl."
"How do we go about it?" asked Peter Stratton.
"Advertise," replied the Scoutmaster briefly. Then, after a pause, he
added: "Of course, your parents' consent would have to be obtained
for a job of this description. But with ordinary caution there should
be little risk. A careful study of the barometer, and the knowledge
that all around the coast there are harbours within a few miles of
each other, ought practically to eliminate all danger. I've no use
for a man who puts to sea before a rising gale, but I've the keenest
admiration for the one who, 'caught out' in the open, knows how to
bring his craft safely back to port. Courage and foolhardiness are as
remote as the poles."
"What sort of craft do you think we might have to take, sir?" asked
Woodleigh.
"Any sort, providing it is seaworthy," replied the Scoutmaster.
"I don't think my people would object," said Flemming.
"Nor mine," added Reggie Warkworth. "If they knew that you were with
us," he added loyally.
Mr. Armitage smiled.
"I'm not infallible," he protested, "and quite liable to commit
errors of judgment, but I'm pretty well used to this sort of thing.
Well, I propose we draft an advertisement and get it inserted in the
_Yachting Press_." The Scouts waited in expectancy while their
Scoutmaster scribbled on the back of an envelope.
"How will this do?" he inquired, "'Scoutmaster (Lieutenant, R.N.V.R.)
and Troop of Sea Scouts are open to navigate yachts and small craft
to and from British ports, South and East Coast preferred. Moderate
and inclusive terms. Reply Box so-and-so.'"
"That ought to work all right, sir," said Dick Roche. "We ought to
get in quite a lot of decent sailing during the holidays."
"There's not much time to be lost, then," added Woodleigh. "We're
well into July already."
"Very well, then," concluded Mr. Armitage briskly. "I'll get this
advertisement inserted. Now, suppose we turn from dreams of
anticipation to the stern necessities of the present. The boat-house
wants setting straight, and I see that the recent gales have loosened
some of the weather-board. All hands to work."
The conclave had assembled in a wooden hut built by the Sea Scouts
entirely by themselves. It was a substantial wooden structure, 14
feet by 10, resting on a solid concrete foundation on a ledge
half-way up the cliff. It had been built in sections on Mr.
Armitage's lawn, and the sections fastened together solely by
twenty-four coach-screws. The hut had been built during the Easter
holidays, and, although its construction took seventeen days of hard
work, the task of conveying it to the cliff and erecting it complete
occupied the short space of six hours.
It was plainly and simply furnished. Wooden lockers served a double
purpose, as seats and receptacles for storing boat's gear. A folding
table, large enough to take a full-sized Admiralty chart, was an
object of considerable ingenuity and good workmanship. On the walls
were framed and varnished charts of "The Solent", "The Approaches to
Spithead", and "Owers to Christchurch", in addition to a bookcase
filled with story-books and textbooks dealing with the sea.
In the corner stood a signal-locker containing the flags of the
International Code, the flags, like the furniture, being the
handiwork of the Sea Scouts. On the locker stood an azimuth compass;
while on a pair of brackets by the side of the door was a powerful
telescope.
In front of the hut was a flagstaff and a windlass. The latter,
purchased for a mere song, came from the wreck of a barge, and served
the useful purpose of hauling the Sea Scouts' gig up the
steeply-shelving pebble beach, when the state of the sea permitted
its being brought round from Keyhaven.
The hut and its contents alone were sufficient to prove that the
Milford Sea Scouts were handy and industrious youngsters; but that
was not enough to satisfy Mr. Armitage's ambitions. He wanted them to
be Sea Scouts in deed as well as in name, skilled in the art of
coastal navigation and smart in elementary seamanship, so that in
time to come they would be worthy members of the Empire whose
existence depends upon the sea.
There were difficulties in his way. He was not a wealthy man,
although fairly well off. He had a considerable amount of spare time,
which he decided he could put to a good purpose by raising and
training a troop of Sea Scouts. The locality was unsuitable, the
facilities for getting afloat few. He realized that, like a
schoolmaster, he was bound to lose his boys almost as soon as they
were thoroughly trained. Others would take their places, and the
moulding process would continue until the time came when he, too,
would have to "hand over" to a successor.
His own experience had taught him that anyone who knew how to handle
a small sailing dinghy properly can sail a yacht, but it did not
necessarily follow that a person who could manage a large vessel
could sail a dinghy. Carrying the process still further, it was
fairly safe to assume that a single-handed yachtsman could be of
material assistance if he found himself on board a big craft; hence
the advantage of fostering the art of boat-sailing--a pastime of
which the joys never pale--is incalculable both in peace and war.
A week elapsed, after the appearance of Mr. Armitage's advertisement,
and nothing resulted. The Sea Scouts, scorning the adage "Hope
deferred maketh the heart sick", kept a stiff upper lip and went
about their tasks unconcernedly, "carrying on" with seamanship and
navigation, and taking advantage of every opportunity of getting
afloat in their gig. But, at the same time, the fact was apparent
that only a month of the holidays remained.
One morning--it was the last Friday in July--the Sea Scouts were
preparing to launch their boat, when Mr. Armitage appeared, looking,
as Dick Roche afterwards observed, like a dog with two tails.
"Heard anything, sir?" inquired the Patrol-leader.
"It never rains but it pours," replied the Scoutmaster. "We've had
two trips offered us."
"Cheerio!" ejaculated Hepburn. "Let's have it, sir."