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aboard for a picnic. That afternoon John rested, but by evening the yacht was headed for the open Atlantic.
The voyage from that point to Shinnecock Bay on the south shore of Long Island was a 48-hour ordeal, involving countless wind shifts and sail changes, a squall of 50 knots with driving rain, as well as periods of flat calm, burning sun and hordes of buzzing flies. All this produced intense fatigue.
A shark charged the hull on two occasions and a large sea turtle — about three feet long and covered with marine growth — surfaced alongside the yacht, providing a glimpse of a rare inhabitant of the open sea.
In view of the heavy weather and the difficulty of maintaining a steady course for any period of time, it was not apparent, upon seeing the south shore of Long Island, at precisely what point landfall would be made. By good fortune, John elected to steer to a light visible to the eastward, which proved to be — as hoped — Shinnecock Inlet. The Inlet was untypically calyt-fehat evening and it was an easy matter to negotiate the entry.
But after 60 hours without sleep, even the simplest tasks became an extreme effort. John stumbled around on deck furling sails and coiling lines. He was too tired to make himself supper, but gambled on one last cup of tea before turning in. He got the tea made, but in lifting the cup to his lips, fell asleep and poured the entire contents down the front of his shirt. This had the undesired effect of waking him up for the unwelcome task of cleaning up the mess.
In contrast to the quiet sea John faced when entering Shinnecock Inlet, conditions were chaotic going out the. next day. Seven -oot seas tossed the boat almost vertically and
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