Chapter XII: Part I (1)

One hundred years ago, “through Canada to the Pacific” was first achieved by Sir Alexander Mackenzie. Making his way in a birch canoe from Montreal up the Ottawa and connecting rivers to Lake Huron, he came to the Sault Sainte Marie. Then followed hundreds of miles of paddling along the homeless shores of Lake Superior until civilization was seen again at Fort William on the northern shore. Yet that was only the real starting-point. Here Mackenzie began one of the most adventurous and productive explorations of that era, when the world was busy with exploration. Through rivers, ponds, and portages to Lake Winnipeg, across it and up the Saskatchewan, he pursued a well-defined route of the Hudson Bay Company’s _voyageurs_. But finally he reached even the fur-trader’s frontier, and pushed forward into a region never then penetrated by a white man. He came to the Peace River and began its ascent. It led him into, and guided him through, the mountains. At its sources he found water flowing westward, and through weeks of hardy adventure traced this river or that until he scented the salt breezes, and looked abroad upon the Pacific--the first man to cross Canada!

That is only a century ago; yet when you place Mackenzie’s canoe beside our transcontinental railway train, the contrast is as wide as between the first and last page of history; but put the courage of the old fur-trader beside the pluck which built this railway, and the extremes meet again.

The transcontinental trip by the Canadian Pacific Railway, then, is the subject of this article. We shall not precisely follow Mackenzie’s devious route, but shall touch it here and there, and see all the way the same kind of things that he saw.

Let us, first of all, have a clear understanding of what this journey is to be.

The Canadian Pacific is the largest railway system on the continent, yet there is none so little known to the general public in the United States, and none so widely misapprehended. It lies wholly in Canada. From Quebec it follows the St. Lawrence to Montreal, and then the Ottawa to the capital of the Dominion. From Ottawa it directs an almost straight course to the northernmost angle of Lake Superior, and skirting its shore for a hundred miles, strikes west to Winnipeg. Thence it crosses 900 miles of prairie, enters the Rocky Mountains 150 miles north of the United States boundary, and forcing its way through 250 miles of magnificent highlands, descends to the Pacific coast near the mouth of the Fraser River.

This main line is 3,070 miles in length, and reaches from ocean to ocean. Its through trains do not change their sleeping-cars all the way. An English family bound for China need make only two changes of conveyance between Liverpool and Hong-Kong--one at Montreal from the steamer to the cars, and another in re-embarking at Vancouver, the Pacific terminus. This is a notable advantage over the pieced-up route through Europe or the United States.

Yet this main line is only the _stem_ of the great system. One side-line goes to Boston. Two others communicate with railways in New York State, at Brockville and Prescott, on the St. Lawrence. Short branches reach a dozen towns in Quebec. Westward, Montreal and Ottawa are connected with Toronto, whence branches ramify through all Ontario. Lake Huron is reached at Owen Sound, whence a line of ocean-like steamships on the Great Lakes is sustained. From Sudbury, a station 443 miles west of Montreal, a branch runs along the northern shore of Lake Huron to Sault Sainte Marie, where it is joined by a bridge over those historic rapids with two new American lines--one to Minneapolis, and another to Duluth. In Manitoba, branches penetrate all the corners of that rich wheat-growing province. Thus, the total length of its railways approaches 5,000 miles, and a year hence will be increased by a direct line to St. John, N. B., and Cape Breton, to connect with especially swift steamers, forming a new Atlantic ferry and carrying England’s Oriental mails. Yet, as has been said, few Americans know or realize these important facts in Canadian progress.

The new station in Montreal, whence we take our departure for the transcontinental journey one summer evening, is a magnificent piece of architecture. It stands just at the corner of Dominion Square, where the first strains of the band concert are calling together the loitering, pleasure-making crowds which twice a week throng its gravel walks or lounge upon the turf of its green parterres.

Out from the station stretches a series of broad stone arches, carrying the tracks upon an elevated way that reminds one of London, to the outskirts of the city, and into the quaint French villages named by pious founders after some Ste. Rose, Ste. Therése, or St. Phillipe, or other revered personages of the olden times.

We go to sleep, and do not know when Ottawa, Canada’s pleasant capital and lumber market, is passed at midnight. We are oblivious to this and all the world besides until a cheery call of “Breakfast-time, sir!” rouses our energies, and we peep out of our window to find ourselves rushing through a dense green forest, still glistening with the night’s dew. Then the breadth of Lake Nipissing opens like a plain of azure amid the green woods, and we halt at North Bay, where a road from Niagara Falls and Toronto terminates and makes a junction with ours. We step out and take a run up and down the long platform. The sunlight seems unusually bright and clear, the breeze from the lake is “nipping and eager”--everything and everybody has an air of alertness and glee which is inspiriting. We have slept well--we are wide awake; this balsamic odor of the woods is appetizing--we are hungry. The dining-car is therefore doubly inviting. Its furnishing is in elegant taste; its linen white as the breaking of the lake-waves; its silver glitters in the sunlight; on every table is a bouquet of wild flowers, masking a basket of fruit. There are tables for two and tables for four. One of the latter holds a family party--father, mother and two young ladies, Vassar girls, perhaps. We seat ourselves opposite, and as the train moves smoothly on, eat and talk with a gusto forgotten since last summer’s outing.

Our _vis-à-vis_ at table proves to be an official of the company, who knows the whole line, as he says, “like the book.” He is going clear through to attend to matters on the western coast. This is great luck, for he seems quite as willing to answer our eager questions as we are to ask them. He is intensely interested in this great achievement, as is everybody connected with it, and wants us to become equally enthusiastic.

“This ought to be a good region for fishing,” we suggest, looking out upon the beautiful lake whose rocky shores we are skirting.

“Excellent,” the official agrees, as he quarters his orange. “Lake Nipissing abounds in big fish, and so does French River, its outlet into Lake Huron. I have had capital sport at the end of the steamboat pier at North Bay, ‘whipping’ with a rod and spoon for pike, bass, pickerel, whitefish, etc. Sometimes muskallonge weighing forty or fifty pounds are caught by trolling from a boat.”

“How about trout?”

“Well, if you’re bent upon trout, and don’t want to go up to the Jackfish or Nepigon River (which we shall cross to-morrow morning), your best plan is to go to Trout Lake and down to the Mattawan. Trout Lake lies four or five miles inland, behind those hills, where the scenery is exceedingly beautiful and the fishing practically untouched. In the lake itself are huge bass, pickerel and muskallonge. I know of one caught there by a lady, which weighed thirty-five pounds. Down to the lake, through tortuous, shady ravines, come cataract-rivers filled with untroubled trout. You can get a boat at a settler’s, or take your own and camp where you please, and fish in a new place every day all summer. Then from Trout Lake you can run a canoe down through a chain of lakes into the Mattawan River. Each of these lakes and streams has plenty of fish of several kinds, and charming camping places. The Mattawan carries you into the Ottawa, which you can descend in a boat--fishing all the way--to the St. Lawrence.”

“That’s an alluring story,” we say.

“It’s literally true; and in the fall and winter, sport with the gun is equally good. Moose, caribou, and deer are plentiful, and the town of Mattawan forms an excellent outfitting place for a shooting trip. Indian and white guides can be got who know the country, and the many lumberers’ roads and camps facilitate the sport. New Brunswick used to be the best place for that sport, but now this part of Canada is far more accessible and convenient.”

At noon we come to Sudbury, where extensive mines of copper and gold are worked, and a brisk village is growing up, with some farming and a great deal of lumbering in the neighborhood. Here branches off the new “Soo” route to St. Paul.

All the afternoon we run through forested hills, the line bending hither and yon to avoid rocky ridges and crystalline lakes, cutting athwart promontories, and bridging ravines. Here and there are extensive tracts of arable land, but little agricultural settlement can be expected in these forests as long as the rich prairies westward, all ready for the plow, are only half-tenanted. Yet the cabins of settlers, who are part farmers, part lumbermen, part trappers, and part “Injun,” are scattered all along the line; and every hundred miles or so we encounter a railway “divisional” station, where there are engine-houses, repairing shops, and the homes of the men employed on that section of the line.

In the evening, groups gathered in our brilliantly-lighted palaces--for every one had become acquainted, like a cozy ship’s company at sea--and whiled away the time with books, story-telling and whist. The Vassar girls, the Official and the Editorial _We_ had a grand game, closing with a tie at eleven o’clock. Just then we were at Missanabie, where you might launch a canoe--“that frail vehicle of an amphibious navigation,” as Sir George Simpson styled it--and run down to the fur-famed--

“Beware of puns!” cried Miss Dimity Vassar.

--Michipicoten, in Lake Superior; or, with a few portages, glide northward to Hudson’s Bay.

Bidden to be awake early, at six next morning we were astir, and, lo! there was Lake Superior. All day we ran along its shores, here taking advantage of a natural terrace or ledge, there rolling with thunderous roar along some gallery blasted out of the face of the gigantic cliffs whose granite bases were beaten by the waves; next darting through a tunnel or safely overriding a long and lofty bridge, beneath which poured some wine-colored torrent. This is daring and costly engineering.

Always high above the water, which sometimes dashes at the very foot of the trackway, and sometimes is separated from us by barriers of vine-clad rock, the eye overlooks a wide and radiant scene. A line of distant and hilly islands cuts off this interior part (Nepigon Bay) from the open lake; and as we swerve hither and yon in our rapid advance, these islands group themselves into ever changing combinations, opening and closing lanes of blue water, displaying and hiding the silvery horizon, letting passing vessels appear and disappear, and taking some new charm of color with each new position.

Nor was this all. Cliffs and shore are grandly picturesque in form, brilliant in color, and constantly varied. After we had reached Jackfish River--a famous fishing-place--and the gaudy overhanging cliffs had been left behind, the lake began to be hidden by a line of trap-buttes, masked in dense foliage; and these beautiful table-lands lasted all the way to the crossing of the Nepigon, where again we were face to face with Nepigon Bay. You may say later that the scenery of the Rocky Mountains is better than this morning ride along Lake Superior; but you will not forget, nor be willing to omit it, all the same.

Nepigon River, up which we have a long view, is the prince of trout-rivers, and at the railway station canoes, camping supplies and Indian crews are always obtainable. Think of brook-trout weighing five or six pounds, to be caught, and bass and whitefish and what not in plenty besides!

That afternoon we passed Port Arthur, a town of 3,500 population, on Thunder Bay, and the port for the fine Canadian Pacific steamers, which present an alternative summer route between the East and West by way of the lakes, Owen Sound and Toronto. Five miles farther on we came to old Fort William, now a growing village and grain port. Here, on the fertile flats of the Kaministiquia, more than two hundred years ago, was planted an Indian trading-post, which a century later became the headquarters of the great Northwest Fur Company, and then an important post of the Hudson’s Bay Company, to which, after years of warfare, the Northwest corporation finally capitulated. Some of the storied old buildings, to which a whole magazine article might easily be devoted, still stand, but they are overshadowed by the railway shops and warehouses, the huge elevators and coal-bins, which here, as at Port Arthur, testify to an enormous shipping traffic.

For four hundred miles west of Fort William, where we bid good-bye to Lake Superior, the road passes through a wild, rough region of rocks and forest, reticulated with lakes and rivers. It is the most unattractive piece of country on the whole line, but it abounds in minerals, and supplies the treeless region beyond with lumber. Near its eastern border, at Rabbit Mountain, exceedingly rich silver mines are worked. The Lake of the Woods, in the centre of this tract, is a very beautiful spot, and one whose water-power supplies many large mills.

Morning found us among open groves and thickets--the fringed-out western edge of that almost continental forest which sweeps behind us to the Atlantic, and northward until it half envelops Hudson’s Bay. Finally even this disappeared in an expanse of verdant turf--the prairie of Manitoba,--its perfectly level horizon broken only by the tall buildings and steeples of the city of Winnipeg.

Winnipeg stands at the point where Red River receives its largest western tributary, the Assiniboine. It has been the site of an Indian trading post, and the centre of the “Red River settlements” for almost a century; but until ten years ago it was nothing more. Then it sprung at one bound, amid an ecstasy of speculation, into a city. It had a hard time after this injudicious exuberance began to subside; but it survived, and now Winnipeg is as well founded, and growing as healthfully, as is Denver or Omaha. The town has ridiculously wide streets, which it cost a fortune to pave with cedar blocks, and which make the really tall and fine business buildings look dwarfed. There are several expensive churches, hundreds of elegant residences, and some stately public buildings. The width of the streets; the great number of vacant lots, due to the large expectations of the “boom” period, which spread the town beyond all reason; and the use of cream-colored brick and light paint in the buildings, give to Winnipeg a singularly pale and scattered appearance, likely to diminish in the eyes of a casual visitor the city’s real wealth and importance.

“While you would find here in Winnipeg,” says our _cicerone_, as we sat smoking in a snug corner, “if you studied the matter a little, the key to much that you will see beyond, you must look beyond for the key to much you will see in Winnipeg. Situated just where the forests end and the vast prairies begin, with thousands of miles of river navigation to the north, south and west, and with railways radiating in every direction into the wheat lands of all Manitoba, like spokes in a wheel, Winnipeg has become, what it must always be, the commercial focus of the Canadian Northwest. Looking at these long lines of warehouses filled with goods, and these twenty miles or more of railway side-tracks all crowded with cars, you begin to realize the vastness of the country we are about to enter. From here the wants of the people in the west are supplied, and this way come the products of their fields, while from the far north are brought furs in great variety and number.”

The surrounding prairie is absolutely flat, and was the bed of a prehistoric lake--the last remnant of the waters that once covered the whole interior; and as we race across it we can picture how the wavelets rose and fell before the ancient wind by noticing the olive-and-gray ripples that flow over the long grass under this noonday breeze. Here and there cattle are standing up to their bellies in the lush meadow. Far off to the southward a dark line indicates the fringe of trees along the Assiniboine. Nothing else breaks the verdant flats that sweep around us save the track and the telegraph poles, straight as a ray of light behind and ahead to their vanishing points on each horizon. After a while habitations and farms grow more numerous, for we have imperceptibly risen to a region lighter in soil and formerly held at a cheaper price than the speculative tracts near the city, whose owners have seen settlers go steadily past them.

The centre of this is the far-scattered town of Portage la Prairie, an old landing-place of the _voyageurs_, who here loaded their boat-cargoes into carts and carried them across to Lake Manitoba, there to be re-embarked for the long canoe voyage inland. Here are now great wheat elevators and mills, and hence a railway has pushed 250 miles northwestward, to continue nobody knows how much farther. Brandon, seventy-five miles beyond, is a wide-awake, handsomely built young city on the Assiniboine, sustained by an immense agricultural environment. In regard to this let me quote somewhat from a standard work on the prairies: “Leaving Brandon, we have fairly reached the first of the great prairie steppes, that rise one after the other at long intervals to the Rocky Mountains; and now we are on the real prairie, not the monotonous, uninteresting plain your imagination has pictured, but a great billowy ocean of grass and flowers, now swelling into low hills, again dropping into broad basins with gleaming ponds, and broken here and there by valleys and by irregular lines of trees marking the watercourses. The horizon only limits the view; and, as far as the eye can reach, the prairie is dotted with newly made farms, with great black squares where the sod has just been turned by the plow, and with herds of cattle. The short, sweet grass, studded with brilliant flowers, covers the land as with a carpet, ever changing in color as the flowers of the different seasons and places give to it their predominating hue.... Here is produced, in the greatest perfection, the most famous of all varieties of wheat--that known as the ‘hard Fyfe wheat of Manitoba’--and oats as well, and rye, barley and flax, and gigantic potatoes, and almost everything that can be grown in a temperate climate.... Three hundred miles from Winnipeg we pass through the famous Bell Farm, embracing one hundred square miles of land. This is a veritable manufactory of wheat, where the work is done with almost military organization--plowing by brigades and reaping by divisions. Think of a farm where the furrows are ordinarily four miles long, and of a country where such a thing is possible! There are neat stone cottages and ample barns for miles around, and the collection of buildings about the headquarters near the railway station makes a respectable village, there being among them a church, an hotel, a flour mill, and, of course, a grain elevator, for in this country these elevators appear wherever there is wheat to be handled or stored.”

The fertile, pleasantly habitable region of the Canadian West is a triangular region with a base 800 miles in width east and west, and a northern limit marked by the forests beyond the Saskatchewan. Between these forests and the Rocky Mountains the arable country extends almost to the borders of Alaska, and through it are scattered trading stations and small settlements among a peaceful and semi-industrious Indian population. The climate is dry, yet the rainfall (except in the southwestern part) is quite sufficient for agriculture. The winters are rigorous, but not so long as those of Quebec, and the snowfall is light. Wheat, oats, barley and vegetables grow to perfection even farther north than the Peace River valley, in latitude 56° to 57°--the parallel which in the east passes just north of Labrador. Settlement on these fine prairies (which are often bushy, and show no sage-brush and little alkali) is only a decade old, yet last year there was produced a surplus for export of twelve million bushels of wheat alone.

Not far beyond the Regina wheat plain, which is about 1,800 feet above the sea, the altitude is abruptly increased by a rise to the top of the _Coteau de Missouri_, where the average of elevation is 3,000 feet. Here the climate is drier, and grazing becomes the principal industry, especially toward the foothills, where enormous herds of horses, cattle and sheep are pastured. Of this great and growing business Calgary is headquarters.

Only ten years ago this was the home of millions of buffalo, whose trails and wallows mark the surface in every direction; but not a bison is now to be seen within a long distance northward. The prairies from Regina westward are dotted with lakes, generally of fresh water, are well grassed, and broken by wooded eminences. The elk and mule-deer are still common, and in the autumn immense herds of antelope, migrating southward, are still to be seen from the car windows. Around the lakes crowd countless wild fowl at all seasons, while flocks of prairie chickens whirl away on each side at our approach. In the seasons of migration geese and ducks are here in myriads.

We cross the South Saskatchewan near some extensive coal mines, and toward evening of Friday (we left Montreal on Monday night and Winnipeg on Thursday morning) we catch our first brief glimpse of the Rockies--a serrated white line notching the sunset horizon. To-morrow morning we shall awake within their glorious gates.

THE NEW YORK YACHT CLUB CRUISE OF ’88.

The annual cruise of the New York Yacht Club grows in importance with increasing years. From the organization of the club, far back in the forties, its history has been a progressive one. Its vessels have won a reputation for their fleetness the world over; members have attracted the attention of all aquatic sportsmen who love

“A wet sheet and a flowing sea,
And a wind that follows fast;”

and the club pennant of the red cross, with the single star sparkling like a gem in its deep azure field, is known in every harbor of the maritime world. Well may the members of this famous old club look back upon its record with pride, and well may Elbridge T. Gerry, the present commodore, rejoice in his proud position as commander of as magnificent a fleet of pleasure boats as ever sailed the waters blue of old ocean.

Great strides have been made, since the establishment of the club in 1844, not only in the sport of yachting, but in all things else besides. It probably never dawned upon the vision of Commodore Stevens, in those early days, when from his quaint little castle on the point of rocks overhanging the Elysian Fields, in Hoboken, looking out on the waters of the Hudson, as they rolled on to the Narrows and out into old ocean, that the club would make so proud a mark in the history of a pastime which the lovers of daring deeds so fondly cultivate. A great city has grown up since then all around him; buildings now occupy the space where, in those early American yachting days, leafy groves afforded shade to yachtsmen, and long lines of wharfs take the place of the gentle grassy slopes, kissed by the waters of the Hudson. All is changed since then. Even the old club has undergone a transformation. The fact, however, remains that the keystone of its success, the brightest gem in its diadem of honorable record, is that which was won in ’51, when Commodore Stevens’s _America_ sailed away from the whole fleet of English yachts and carried off the Queen’s Cup.

This aquatic feat did much to permanently establish yachting in this country. It was a surprise to the well trained, brave and skillful sailors of the tight little island that Yankee sailors, after an ocean voyage, should beat them in their own waters. But they took the _America’s_ victory in good part, and though it was a difficult pill to swallow, they got it down with a smile, for your true Englishman is always manly.

“Yankee Doodle had a craft,
A rather tidy clipper,
And he challenged, while they laughed,
The Britishers to whip her;
Their whole yacht squadron she outsped,
And that on their own water;
Of all the lot she went ahead,
And they came nowhere arter.”

From those early days in the fifties, until the war broke out the New York Yacht Club grew strong in membership and vessels. Its cruises and its regattas became popular, the latter especially, for they served to afford a pleasant day’s amusement to people who enjoyed a holiday on the water. Many of our best known men and grand old merchant princes were devoted yachtsmen. What cruise was complete without rare old Moses Grinnell on board some one of the flyers of days gone by? When the war broke out, did not many of these same yachtsmen lend a hand in the struggle for the Union? If we mistake not, James Gordon Bennett put his vessel, the _Rebecca_, into commission, and did service himself on board, off the Southern coast. Hundreds of other instances might be cited to prove the patriotism, daring and pluck of “the men who went down to the sea in ships,” even though these ships were pleasure craft, and the men who sailed them simply on pleasure bent.

When “the cruel war” was over there came renewed interest in yachting. Then the challenges from the other side were received. English yachtsmen looked with longing eyes across the ocean and declared their readiness to do battle for the possession of the _America’s_ cup. With the true spirit of sportsmen American yachtsmen met their Island brethren with equal ardor to defend the possession of the prize--the greatest yachting trophy of the world.

The races in which the _Cambria_, _Livonia_, _Genesta_, _Galatea_, _Thistle_, _Columbia_, _Sappho_, _Puritan_, _Mayflower_, _Volunteer_, etc., took part, are too well known to the readers of ~Outing~ to require more than a mere passing notice. These contests form proud chapters in the history of the club of which Elbridge T. Gerry is commodore.

No less important pages in its history are the great ocean races, in which the _Vesta_, _Fleetwing_, _Dauntless_ competed, the _Dauntless_ and _Cambria’s_ ocean race, and again, the race in midwinter between the _Coronet_ and _Dauntless_, when the Atlantic was in its most angry moods. The famous schooner _Sappho_, owned by William P. Douglass, ex-vice-commodore of the club, was another fair skimmer of the briny deep that carried the burgee of the club with honor in any and every contest in which she was entered in home or foreign waters. And so the list might be strung out in a magnificent array of the names of those white-winged beauties of the sea that muster in the roll of Commodore Gerry’s fleet.

For the nonce, let us turn from the past and look upon the present. Let us survey the fleet of this season as they came together in the harbor of New London, on the morning of August 9. Never did the famous old rendezvous present so brilliant an aquatic spectacle. The event was ushered in with a clear, bright blue sky. As the day grew older the scene grew in activity. Fifty-three sailing yachts and twenty odd steamers responded to the sunrise gun, and sent aloft the club signal to kiss the breeze that stole out from the southwest almost as gently as summer zephyr laden with the odor of the sea. It was not the piping breeze loved so well by your true yachtsman, when close-reefed sails and housed topmasts are the order of the day. At 10.47 the preparatory gun was given from the flag-ship _Electra_; ten minutes later the signal gun to start. And what a busy scene presented itself! With anchors weighed and all sails set, the magnificent fleet began to move out of the harbor into the waters of the ocean, with the _Puritan_, true to her record, showing the way over the line, closely followed by the _Grayling_, _Troubadour_ and _Sea Fox_. It was in this way the annual cruise began.

As the squadron passed the flagship _Electra_, a beautiful picture was presented to the eye. The wind being light, the yachts had all available sails spread, and the view at the start was of an almost solid mass of canvas.

Before going further it will be well to give an explanation regarding the races that took place from New London to Newport, from Newport to Vineyard Haven, from Vineyard Haven to New Bedford and thence to Newport.

A feature of past cruises has always been this racing from port to port. Until this year, however, the arrangements in connection with it have been eminently unsatisfactory, both as regards methods of starting and the way in which a large yacht arriving first at the common destination would be disqualified on time allowance and the victory awarded to a smaller vessel. The methods of former years having then proved inefficacious in deciding the actual merits of the competing boats, Commodore Gerry, Vice-Commodore C. H. Colt and Rear-Commodore E. D. Morgan resolved this year to present prizes to that yacht in each of the eleven classes which made the best record in the runs from port to port. These prizes consist of handsome lamps of solid silver resting on ebony stands. On one side is an inscription of the names of the donors, while on the other the New York Yacht Club flag is represented. All the eleven prizes are exactly alike. A novelty of the trophy is the fact that the lamp may be lifted from its receptacle, when the stand forms a handsome cup with two handles. These prizes did much to stimulate the energies of the captains, and some fine races resulted.

Twenty minutes instead of the usual ten were allowed as starting time in these contests. Soon after the fleet had started the wind gradually died away, and for half an hour the water was scarcely ruffled, but the Commodore’s proverbial good luck did not desert him long. Soon sufficient breeze returned to carry the yachts bowling merrily into Newport harbor. The following table tells the story of the day’s run:

FIRST CLASS SCHOONERS--THIRTY-FIVE MILES.

_Elapsed_ _Corr’d_
_Start._ _Finish._ _Time._ _Time._
NAME. H. M. S. H. M. S. H. M. S. H. M. S.

Ambassadress 11 06 00 5 33 35 6 27 35 6 27 35
Dauntless 11 09 33 4 42 37 5 33 04 5 33 04
Norseman 11 05 25 4 52 05 5 46 40 5 45 31
Palmer 11 12 54 4 32 05 5 19 11 5 15 34
Wanderer 11 09 45 5 10 55 6 01 10 -- -- --
Alarm 11 06 00 4 48 30 5 42 30 -- -- --

SECOND CLASS SCHOONERS.

Intrepid 11 09 45 4 46 27 5 36 42 5 36 42
Gitana 10 56 00 4 43 40 5 47 40 5 46 26
Montauk 11 09 45 4 29 05 5 19 20 5 16 40
Columbia 11 13 30 4 52 58 5 39 28 -- -- --

THIRD CLASS SCHOONERS.

Sea Fox 11 01 12 4 10 52 5 09 40 5 09 40
Sachem 11 09 45 4 19 20 5 09 35 5 07 49
Troubadour 11 00 40 4 24 19 5 23 39 5 21 18
Varuna 11 03 04 5 11 30 6 08 26 6 05 52
Miranda 11 07 58 4 26 14 5 18 12 5 15 26
Grayling 11 00 40 4 24 25 5 23 45 5 18 50
Atalanta 10 56 30 4 44 33 5 48 03 -- -- --
Elma 11 12 30 3 40 33 5 28 03 -- -- --

FOURTH CLASS SCHOONERS.

Marguerite 11 02 07 5 51 45 6 49 38 6 49 38
Iroquois 11 05 03 4 21 48 5 16 45 5 15 36
Magic 11 08 35 4 44 29 5 35 54 5 33 44
Halcyon 10 56 00 4 38 18 5 42 18 5 40 42
Princess 11 16 10 5 29 23 6 13 13 -- -- --

FIFTH CLASS SCHOONERS.

Harbinger 11 11 32 5 03 14 6 51 42 -- -- --
Triton 11 09 40 5 28 27 6 18 47 -- -- --
Lotus 11 17 00 5 05 14 6 48 14 -- -- --
Azalea 11 14 38 5 37 52 6 23 14 -- -- --
Lydia 11 12 08 5 28 27 6 16 19 -- -- --
Whim 11 06 00 5 32 40 6 26 40 -- -- --
Clio 11 17 00 5 50 37 6 33 37 -- -- --

FIRST CLASS SLOOPS.

Volunteer 11 08 54 4 21 32 5 12 38 5 12 38
Mayflower 11 50 20 4 16 03 5 10 43 5 09 56
Puritan 11 02 07 4 08 39 5 06 32 5 03 14

THIRD CLASS SLOOPS.

Katrina 11 12 30 4 26 42 5 14 12 5 14 12
Bedouin 11 05 03 5 35 55 6 30 52 6 29 23
Fanny 11 05 15 4 20 12 5 14 57 5 11 28
Pocahontas 11 01 30 4 47 04 5 45 34 5 34 34
Nonpareille 11 09 45 5 36 43 6 40 58 -- -- --
Huron 11 11 00 4 52 18 5 41 08 5 34 04

FOURTH CLASS SLOOPS.

Hildegarde 11 03 53 4 27 02 5 23 09 5 23 09
Dare 11 10 27 5 52 02 6 04 55 6 00 00
Medusa 11 10 50 5 21 24 6 10 34 6 02 22
Whileaway 11 06 00 4 35 17 5 29 17 5 22 52
Thistle 11 09 45 5 12 45 6 03 00 -- -- --

FIFTH CLASS SLOOPS.

Athlon 11 14 08 4 50 25 5 36 17 5 36 17
Cinderella 11 09 40 5 54 04 5 44 20 5 43 36
Gaviota 11 15 31 4 54 06 5 38 35 5 37 28
Bertie 11 08 22 4 47 11 5 45 49 5 40 55
Concord 11 11 00 5 51 17 6 40 17 6 34 17

SIXTH CLASS SLOOPS.

Regina 11 05 30 5 07 00 6 01 30 -- -- --
Nymph 11 08 56 5 27 47 6 18 51 -- -- --
Crocodile -- -- -- 5 13 25 -- -- -- -- -- --
Iseult -- -- -- 5 01 40 -- -- -- -- -- --

~Winners~--First class schooner--Palmer; second class
schooner--Montauk; third class schooner--Sachem; fourth
class schooner--Iroquois; fifth class schooner--Lydia. First
class sloop--Puritan; third class sloop--Fanny; fourth class
sloop--Whileaway; fifth class sloop--Athlon; sixth class
sloop--Regina.

In the evening red lights were burned on the yachts, lighting up the harbor and producing a fine effect.

The next day, Friday, August 10, the race for the Goelet cups took place over the Sow and Pigs course, off Newport Harbor. At 10.20 the preparatory gun was fired, there being at the time a light northerly wind. Ten minutes later the starting signal was given, and the _Volunteer_ crossed the line in the lead, with the _Mayflower_ second. Then came the _Miranda_ leading the schooners, followed by the _Sea Fox_ and _Sachem_. At West Island Light the _Volunteer_ had established a lead of half a mile with the _Mayflower_ still second, followed by the _Palmer_, _Sea Fox_, _Puritan_, _Sachem_ and _Katrina_ in the order named.

At the Sow and Pigs lightship the order was somewhat changed among the leaders. The _Sachem_ had taken the lead and the _Mayflower_ had tailed off. The order and time as the yachts rounded the lightship were as follows:

_Sachem_, 3.27.33; _Volunteer_, 3.37.32; _Sea Fox_, 3.43.15; _Puritan_, 3.45.58; _Miranda_, 3.48.26; _Grayling_, 3.49.07; _Katrina_, 3.49.51; _Iroquois_, 3.50.30; _Palmer_, 3.51.27; _Troubadour_, 3.53.22; _Mayflower_, 3.53.32; _Dauntless_, 3.55.46; _Montauk_, 3.56.36; _Magic_, 3.59.00; _Ramona_, 3.59.30.

The _Katrina_ had the race in hand at this point, and she increased her lead to the Hen and Chickens. During this run of four miles, the _Katrina_ gained three minutes on the _Volunteer_ and _Puritan_, proving herself to be a remarkably fast boat. Just as the boats reached the Hen and Chickens buoy the wind dropped again, shifting round to the southwest. The time at this mark, so far as taken, was as follows:

_Sachem_, 4.40.03; _Volunteer_, 4.44.49; _Sea Fox_, 4.48.36; _Puritan_, 4.51.00; _Grayling_, 4.52.01; _Katrina_, 4.52.38; _Miranda_, 4.58.21; _Mayflower_, 4.58.53; _Iroquois_, 4.59.33.

The _Katrina_ was 5m. 44s. ahead of the _Volunteer_ by corrected time at this mark. The _Sachem_ and _Volunteer_ having rounded the mark some four minutes ahead of the next boat, the _Sea Fox_, had an immense advantage by the shift of the wind, which came just after they turned the buoy.

It was now a beat to windward to Brenton’s Reef and the finish line. The wind freshened and hauled more to the westward and became a good steady breeze. The _Sea Fox_ in this beat pointed very high--her pointing was something remarkable. The time at the finish was as follows:

_Elapsed_ _Corr’d_
_Start._ _Finish._ _Time._ _Time._
NAME. H. M. S. H. M. S. H. M. S. H. M. S.

Volunteer 10 30 57 6 52 32 8 21 35 8 21 25
Sachem 10 32 09 7 12 57 8 40 48 8 27 48
Grayling 10 33 40 7 19 34 8 45 54 8 29 22
Katrina 10 33 17 7 19 49 8 46 32 8 35 10
Puritan 10 32 47 7 15 35 8 42 48 8 39 07
Sea Fox 10 31 58 7 23 34 8 51 26 8 40 23
Mayflower 10 31 51 7 33 05 9 01 14 9 00 21

_Miranda_, 10.31.53; _Palmer_, 10.32.25; _Montauk_, 10.32.40; _Troubadour_, 10.32.52; _Intrepid_, 10.33.32; _Magic_, 10.33.49; _Dauntless_, 10.34.25; _Elma_, 10.36.00; _Iroquois_, 10.36.38, and _Ramona_, 10.40.00; not timed.

In the schooner class, the _Sachem_ won the cup, beating the _Grayling_ 1m. 36s. on corrected time. In the sloop class, the _Volunteer_ won, beating the _Katrina_ 13m. 44s.; _Puritan_, 17m. 31s.; _Mayflower_ 38m. 46s., corrected time. _Katrina_ beat both _Puritan_ and _Mayflower_.

On Saturday, August 11, a start was made for Vineyard Haven, Martha’s Vineyard. Once more every yacht was accurately timed from Newport, this being the second of the runs from port to port for the class prizes.

Again did the _Puritan_ take the lead at the line, closely followed by the _Lydia_, _Clio_, _Montauk_ and _Volunteer_. Everything went smoothly till the _Mayflower_ and _Grayling_ came along, and then occurred the only accident or collision of the cruise of ’88. Immediately after crossing the line the _Mayflower_ was directly behind the _Grayling_ and was sailing a trifle faster. Almost before any one realized that an accident was about to happen, the _Mayflower’s_ bowsprit caught the end of the _Grayling’s_ mainboom. This of itself was nothing serious. The sloop _Regina_ was, however, right ahead of the _Grayling_, and by the _Mayflower_ pressing upon the _Grayling’s_ boom, the latter’s stern was pushed to windward, her bow swung off, and in a moment her big bowsprit struck the _Regina’s_ mainsail just abaft the mast. The little sloop keeled over to starboard, when her topmast snapped, and the rigging came rattling down on her deck. Three of the guests on board the _Regina_ became excited, and jumped overboard, and then immediately started to swim for the boat which they had just left. Lines were thrown from the _Grayling_ and caught by the swimmers, but the big schooner did not lose her headway, and the men grasping the rope were towed through the water.

The _Electra_, _Grayling_, and _Mayflower_ soon had boats out, the _Electra’s_ gig being first. By the time the excitement had subsided all the yachts had crossed the line, and the faster boats were rapidly moving to the front. Soon the _Volunteer_ passed the _Puritan_ and took the lead, which she kept until almost to the line, only to be defeated by the _Puritan_, after having victory apparently within her grasp. The way in which Commodore Forbes regained the lead was a clever piece of work. The _Volunteer_ was leading and was encountering a strong head tide; but the _Puritan_ and others were rapidly overtaking her, not being bothered with the tide, while they had the full advantage of the wind. The _Puritan_ was soon equal with the leader, and though not gaining, was gradually working toward the shore away from the current. Meanwhile the _Volunteer_ had dropped anchor, not being able to make any headway. As soon as the _Puritan_ came near the shore and out of the strong current, she slowly moved toward the line, and crossed it a victor. The results of the day’s run were:

FIRST CLASS SCHOONERS.

_Actual_
_Start._ _Finish._ _Time._
NAME. H. M. S. H. M. S. H. M. S.

Norseman 10 46 06 7 58 00 9 12 54
Palmer 10 47 07 7 59 45 9 12 38
Alarm 10 47 35 8 13 50 9 26 15
Dauntless 10 49 25 8 16 20 9 26 55
Wanderer 10 51 00 8 41 00 9 50 00
Ambassadress 10 51 35 -- -- -- -- -- --
Ramona 11 00 00 7 51 15 9 51 15

SECOND CLASS SCHOONERS.

Montauk 10 41 58 7 55 30 9 13 40
Gitana 10 44 00 -- -- -- -- -- --
Columbia 10 46 17 8 02 58 9 16 41
Intrepid 10 47 35 -- -- -- -- -- --

THIRD CLASS SCHOONERS.

Troubadour 10 43 30 8 34 30 9 51 00
Sea Fox 10 43 47 7 21 17 8 37 30
Sachem 10 44 43 7 23 45 8 39 02
Miranda 10 45 15 7 31 23 8 46 08
Grayling 10 48 08 7 21 17 8 33 09
Varuna 10 51 00 -- -- -- -- -- --
Elma 10 58 55 7 53 40 8 54 45

FOURTH CLASS SCHOONERS.

Iroquois 10 43 16 7 30 43 8 47 27
Halcyon 10 45 00 8 06 25 9 21 25
Marguerite 10 47 35 8 37 00 9 49 25
Magic 10 49 10 7 53 00 9 03 50
Clytie 10 51 00 -- -- -- -- -- --

FIFTH CLASS SCHOONERS.

Lydia 10 41 15 8 36 15 9 55 00
Clio 10 41 41 8 35 00 9 53 19
Harbinger 10 45 48 8 11 11 9 25 23
Lotus 10 57 00 -- -- -- -- -- --
Whim 11 00 00 -- -- -- -- -- --

FIRST CLASS SLOOPS.

Puritan 10 40 53 7 14 25 8 33 32
Volunteer 10 41 58 7 22 45 8 40 47
Mayflower 10 48 08 7 49 22 9 01 14

THIRD CLASS SLOOPS.

Pocahontas 10 42 40 8 12 35 9 29 55
Katrina 10 42 40 7 52 23 9 09 43
Huron 10 44 28 -- -- -- -- -- --
Bedouin 10 48 08 7 26 52 8 38 44
Fanny 10 50 37 -- -- -- -- -- --
Vision 10 54 22 8 34 30 9 40 08
Nonpareille 10 54 49 8 44 25 9 48 36

FOURTH CLASS SLOOPS.

Whileaway 10 45 48 -- -- -- -- -- --
Hildegarde 10 47 55 -- -- -- -- -- --
Thistle 10 48 08 8 26 00 9 37 52
Medusa 10 49 35 8 40 00 9 30 25

FIFTH CLASS SLOOPS.

Athlon 10 44 32 8 05 06 9 20 34
Bertie 10 45 48 -- -- -- -- -- --
Cinderella 10 47 35 -- -- -- -- -- --

SIXTH CLASS SLOOPS.

Crocodile 10 44 28 -- -- -- -- -- --
Regina 10 46 40 -- -- -- -- -- --
Nymph 10 52 20 8 08 58 9 16 38

~Winners~--Schooners--First class, Alarm; second, Montauk;
third, Grayling; fourth, Iroquois; fifth, Harbinger; Sloops--First
class, Puritan; third, Bedouin; fourth, Medusa; fifth, Athlon;
sixth, Nymph.

During Sunday the fleet lay at anchor in Vineyard Haven. At a meeting of the captains, held on board the flagship _Electra_, it was decided to abandon the cruise to Marblehead for this year and to accept the offer made by the Newport citizens, of cups, to be sailed for over the Sow and Pigs course before the cruise terminated. It was also decided to go to New Bedford on the day after the race for the Martha’s Vineyard Cup, and then from New Bedford to go to Newport and sail the race for the cup offered.

Monday, August 13, was the day set for the race for the Martha’s Vineyard Cup, but after the flagship _Electra_ had taken her position ready for the start the Regatta Committee decided to postpone the race. On Monday, therefore, the yachts lay anchored in Vineyard Haven, while their owners enjoyed themselves at Cottage City.

On Tuesday, the day was clear and bright, with a wind strong and fresh from the southwest. It was an ideal yachting day. The result was the finest race of the cruise.

The prizes were a series of valuable cups offered by the citizens of Martha’s Vineyard, as follows: $250 for keel schooners, $250 for second-class centre-board schooners, $200 for third-class centre-board schooners, $250 for first-class sloops, $200 for second-class sloops, $150 for third-class sloops, $100 for fourth-class sloops and $100 for fifth-class sloops.

The course gave a beat to windward of eighteen nautical miles to and round a stakeboat off Gay Head and return to starting line off Cottage City.

The starting signal was given at 10.10, and the _Puritan_ was again first over the line. The _Alert_ was next, closely pursued by the _Sea Fox_ and _Grayling_. General Paine was aboard the _Alert_, and it was generally believed that his presence did not keep her back at all.

The wind increased shortly after the start, and soon a heavy sea came rolling in from the eastward, striking the big sloops first. The _Puritan_ was still leading, but the _Mayflower_ seemed to make better weather of the seas, and soon passed to leeward of the _Puritan_.

About the same time the _Grayling_ ran through the _Sachem’s_ lee, and the _Sea Fox_ was holding a splendid wind and going fast through the water. She was to the windward of both the _Sachem_ and the _Grayling_. Soon after the start the schooner _Palmer_ carried away her fore gaff, but she held on under whole mainsail, fore topsail and jib. The _Grayling_ and _Sachem_ had it hot for a while on the starboard tack; the _Sachem_ got a little the best of the bout. The _Alert_ now hoisted a small maintopmast staysail and came along at a slashing pace, apparently outsailing all the schooners. The first mark of the course to be turned was the bell buoy off Nobska Point, which was turned by the leaders as follows: _Puritan_, 11.17.30; _Mayflower_, 11.18.45; _Sachem_, 11.21.10; _Sea Fox_, 11.22.05; _Alert_, 11.25.00; _Grayling_, 11.29.00.

On the way from Nobska Point to Gay Head the wind rather moderated, topmasts were sent up, and reefs shaken out on most of the boats. The time taken at Gay Head stakeboat was as follows: _Puritan_, 12.42.50; _Mayflower_, 12.47.00; _Sachem_, 12.50.30; _Alert_, 12.52.22; _Sea Fox_, 12.53.26; _Grayling_, 12.58.32; _Miranda_, 1.01.45; _Montauk_, 1.14.00; _Iroquois_, 1.06.30; _Katrina_, 1.09.55.

It was a free wind from Gay Head to the finish off the Sea View House at Cottage City. All the yachts sent their kites up soon after turning, and all made splendid time. The _Alert_ was at a great disadvantage here in not having any spinnaker or balloon topsails on board, so that the _Miranda_ was able to overhaul her. The race between the _Sea Fox_ and _Sachem_ was most exciting and very close; the _Katrina_ also pulled up on the _Bedouin_, but not enough to save her loss outside. The _Grayling_ did not do as well as usual in this home run; she was outsailed by both the _Sachem_ and _Sea Fox_. The finish line was crossed in the following order: _Puritan_, _Sachem_, _Mayflower_, _Sea Fox_, _Alert_, _Grayling_, _Miranda_, _Montauk_, _Iroquois_, _Bedouin_, _Katrina_, _Intrepid_, _Troubadour_, _Hildegarde_, _Halcyon_, _Bertie_, _Athlon_, _Vixen_, and _Usher_.

The following tables show the result:

FIRST CLASS SCHOONERS.

_Elapsed_ _Corr’d_
_Start._ _Finish._ _Time._ _Time._
NAME. H. M. S. H. M. S. H. M. S. H. M. S.
Alert 10 10 44 2 21 32 4 10 48 -- -- --
Intrepid 10 11 43 2 44 14 4 32 31 4 30 10
Miranda 10 11 45 2 27 55 4 16 10 4 05 14
Palmer 10 17 58 Did not finish.
Ramona 10 10 24 -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- --

SECOND CLASS SCHOONERS.

Sea Fox 10 11 23 2 20 08 4 09 45 4 08 23
Grayling 10 11 25 2 26 23 4 15 03 4 10 34
Sachem 10 11 48 2 17 08 4 06 20 4 04 33
Montauk 10 13 23 2 29 46 4 16 23 4 16 23
Troubadour 10 15 00 2 47 20 4 32 20 4 28 47

THIRD CLASS SCHOONERS.

Iroquois 10 12 10 2 34 12 4 22 02 4 22 02
Halcyon 10 14 59 3 10 38 4 55 39 4 54 54

FIRST CLASS SLOOPS.

Puritan 10 10 16 2 12 58 4 02 42 4 00 07
Mayflower 10 13 14 2 17 44 4 04 30 4 04 30

SECOND CLASS SLOOPS.

Bedouin 10 11 25 2 37 39 4 26 14 4 24 43
Katrina 10 14 26 2 42 37 4 28 11 4 28 11

THIRD CLASS SLOOPS.

Hildegarde 10 14 11 3 09 43 4 55 32 4 55 32

FOURTH CLASS SLOOPS.

Bertie 10 13 41 3 26 42 5 13 01 5 07 59
Athlon 10 20 00 3 59 45 5 39 45 5 39 45

FIFTH CLASS SLOOPS.

Vixen 10 16 30 4 01 30 5 45 00 -- -- --
Hesper 10 16 48 4 03 47 5 46 59 -- -- --
Thistle 10 16 54 -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- --

Winners and prizes: _Alert_, $250; _Sachem_, $250; _Iroquois_, $200; _Puritan_, $250; _Bedouin_, $250; _Hildegarde_, $150; _Bertie_, $100, and _Hesper_, $100.

On Wednesday morning the fleet started for New Bedford. The wind was a regular sou’wester, and fast time was made.

The preparatory signal was given at 9.50, and ten minutes later the starting gun was fired. The race abounded in exciting manœuvres, and much good seamanship was displayed. It was a grand sight to watch the _Sea Fox_, _Grayling_ and _Sachem_ contesting for first place, and so close together were they at the finish that all three crossed the line within one minute.

The following table shows the actual results of the race:

FIRST CLASS SCHOONERS.

_Elapsed_ _Corr’d_
_Start._ _Finish._ _Time._ _Time._
NAME. H. M. S. H. M. S. H. M. S. H. M. S.
Ramona 10 04 30 3 40 45 5 36 15 5 36 15
Palmer 10 20 00 3 54 04 5 34 04 5 31 59
Intrepid 10 02 56 3 42 42 5 39 46 5 37 21

THIRD CLASS SCHOONERS.

Grayling 10 00 56 3 03 07 5 02 11 4 58 38
Sea Fox 10 01 21 3 02 18 5 00 57 5 00 57
Sachem 10 02 15 3 03 09 5 00 54 4 59 27

FOURTH CLASS SCHOONERS.

Iroquois 10 01 21 3 26 15 5 25 54 5 23 54
Halcyon 10 02 09 Did not sail the course.

FIFTH CLASS SCHOONERS.

Lydia 10 02 59 5 09 23 7 08 24 -- -- --
Clio 10 01 21 4 07 14 6 05 53 -- -- --
Harbinger 10 00 38 Did not sail the course.

FIRST CLASS SLOOPS.

Puritan 10 00 35 3 03 40 5 02 05 4 59 26
Mayflower 10 02 19 Did not sail the course.

THIRD CLASS SLOOPS.

Pocahontas 10 02 52 3 56 20 5 53 28 Not meas.
Katrina 10 07 00 3 14 37 5 07 37 5 07 37
Bedouin 10 05 24 3 13 13 5 07 49 5 06 13
Fanny 10 11 27 Did not sail the course.

FOURTH CLASS SLOOPS.

Hildegarde 10 10 12 4 06 30 5 56 18 5 56 18

FIFTH CLASS SLOOPS.