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the foretopmast nearly thirty, and it was of these that I intended making the shears. It was puzzling work. Fastening one end of a heavy tackle to the windlass, and with the other end fast to the butt of the foretopmast, I began to heave. Maud held the turn on the windlass and coiled down the slack. ¡¡¡¡We were astonished at the ease with which the spar was lifted. It was an improved crank windlass, and the purchase it gave was enormous. Of course, what it gave us in power we paid for in distance; as many times as it doubled my strength,
oil paintingsthat many times was doubled the length of rope I heaved in. The tackle dragged heavily across the rail, increasing its drag as the spar arose more and more out of the water, and the exertion on the windlass grew severe. ¡¡¡¡But when the butt of the topmast was level with the rail everything came to a standstill. ¡¡¡¡'I might have known it,' I said impatiently. 'Now we have to do it all over again.' ¡¡¡¡'Why not fasten the tackle partway down the mast?' Maud suggested. ¡¡¡¡'It's what I should have done at first,' I answered, hugely disgusted with myself.