wind, being abeam, would enter on the upper or weather side, and must rush through to leeward or downward, thus having a powerfully depressing effect upon the ship. Further, if the awning happened to be choked to leeward by the sea, the depressing tendency would thereby be rendered all the more acute, by reason of the wind not being able to get out. Even a schoolboy, if he gave the subject the slightest reflection, would be convinced that in this case, as in every other, the wind must follow the dictates of nature, instead of being guided by the theories of non-practical men. Another witness for the defence—who also is not a sailor—averred that “the amount of freeboard a ship has is no proof of her sea-worthiness.” This is true in a sense, for different ships require to be loaded, or trimmed, in different ways. I have been in ships that were at their best when trimmed a few inches by the head, but I never saw, or heard of, a long, small ship—except, of course, the _Alert_—that was considered in good trim to go to sea with a freeboard aft of only a few inches, and nearly the whole of her out of the water foreward! I don’t say that it is impossible for a vessel in the last named condition to be sea-worthy, but I do say that I would have to be out at sea with her a few times in a breeze of wind before I believed it. While dealing with weather, I may as well point out that Captain Barrett of the ship _Hesperus_—although his vessel was not within a hundred miles of where the _Alert_ was—said in his evidence that “it was so bad that he did not think it just to take a pilot for his ship on account of the danger to which he (the pilot) would be exposed in boarding on the afternoon of the _Alert’s_ wreck.” Good, kind, considerate man! he is just the sort of captain I should like to sail with. Then Pilot Mitchell also stated that “the weather was so bad between three and five on the afternoon of 28th December, 1893, that he did not think he would have boarded any ship at that time.” However, just as there are different ways of trimming ships, so there are different ways of getting a pilot on board. As a case in point, I remember on one voyage we were bound to Queenstown (Cork) for orders. While we were still out of sight of land—it being at least a hundred miles off—a pilot boat bore down on us one morning in answer to our signal. A gale of wind was blowing, and a very heavy sea running at the time, so much so that if the “hooker” (a name given to Queenstown pilot boats) had come alongside of us she would have been instantly swamped. To have attempted to lower a small boat, either from our ship or the “hooker,” would have been utter madness, as no boat could have lived in such a sea. After bringing the “hooker” near enough to make a bargain, by word of mouth, as to the cost of taking us into port, one of the pilots sung out for us to heave a deep sea leadline on board of the “hooker.” Our best leadsman threw, after three or