This took place to the northwest of Stroma Island, and
ever since the sea there has not rested, for as the water falls
through the eye of the quern, it roars and rushes about, and the
quern goes on grinding and grinding salt, and giving its saltness
to the whole ocean.
The mist having lifted, Captain Flett had a reef or two let out,
and himself took the helm until he got us into calmer water, when
we luffed to the windward and headed for South Ronaldsay, with a
stiff breeze springing up that gave us a clear seaway to get past
the Lother Reef, when we sailed steadily through a lesser rush of
tide across a quiet, landlocked sea, into the little haven of
Burwick, where in the gathering darkness the chain went rattling
down, and we came to a restful anchorage.
But our stay at Burwick was not for long, as we had lost much time
in the outer sea, and the skipper wanted to get round to St.
Margaret's Hope. No sooner had we put a boatload of goods ashore
than we set sail again. And now that we were in smoother water, I
was not allowed to shirk my watch, but had to spend the better part
of the night on deck.
A little after midnight we were sailing under easy sail through the
dark Sound of Hoxa. I was at the helm, the mate walking the deck in
front of me. The night was extremely cold, and some light flakes of
snow were falling.
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