" Then there was the "Old Man of Hoy," and other rocks
that stood near the entrance to that terrible torrent of the sea, the
Pentland Firth; but, owing to the rolling of our ship, we were not in a
fit state either of mind or body to take much interest in them, and we
were very glad when we reached the shelter of the Orkney Islands and
entered the fine harbour of Kirkwall. Here we had to stay for a short
time, so we went ashore and obtained a substantial lunch at the
Temperance Hotel near the old cathedral, wrote a few letters, and at 3
p.m. rejoined the _St. Magnus_.
The sea had been quite rough enough previously, but it soon became
evident that it had been smooth compared with what followed, and during
the coming night we wished many times that our feet were once more on
_terra firma_. The rain descended, the wind increased in violence, and
the waves rolled high and broke over the ship, and we were no longer
allowed to occupy our favourite position on the upper deck, but had to
descend a stage lower. We were saturated with water from head to foot in
spite of our overalls, and we were also very sick, and, to add to our
misery, we could hear, above the noise of the wind and waves, the
fearful groaning of some poor woman who, a sailor told us, had been
suddenly taken ill, and it was doubtful if she could recover.
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