This time Captain Bill realized what was required of him. “Good work,” he said “You got them both without a slip.” Now Bob could go on. “They sat down,” he began. “That they did,” interrupted Pat. “They sat down on Shismaref Bay on Kotzebue Sound. What heathen names. But we’ve heard them, and get on with you, lad.” “I am,” said Bob, and got on. “They had to wait for ten hours for the fog to lift, and it must have been mighty uncomfortable in the cockpits of their planes. When they finally did get started, they found that they couldn’t get to Nome after all. The fog drifted up again, and they had to come down—” Pat broke the silence with a mighty exclamation. “Not on Shismaref Bay!” Bob was cold. “Of course not. This time they came down on Safety Bay, and please don’t interrupt.” But there was another interruption, this time from Hal. “Where’s Safety Bay?” he asked. Bob stretched out comfortably. He was satisfied with himself and his story. “I don’t know whether you’re just trying to test me, or not,” he said, “but I’m prepared for you. I’ve been over every inch of the Lindbergh trip with an atlas, and I know where everything is located, and how to pronounce it.” Hal, his pale face lighted up by the moonlight, was obviously impressed, and his large eyes beamed in the light. He was storing up notes for his own story that was to come later. “Safety Bay,” said Bob, “is twenty-one miles from Nome, and mid-way between Nome and Solomon Beach. They call it Safety Bay because fishermen caught in storms out at sea used to come in to the bay for safety. It was a ‘safety bay’ for the Lindberghs, too, all right. They waited for the fog to lift again, and they finally got to Nome. Nome had been waiting so long for them that it gave them a right royal welcome. “Nome was an important stop, because the Lindberghs planned to use this as their jumping off place for the hop across the Pacific Ocean to Karagin Island, off the Kamchatkan Peninsula. The Pacific has been crossed before, and was crossed later, too, by Herndon and Pangborn. But it’s a tricky place to cross, especially in the northerly part, where the Lindberghs were to cross. It’s a place of fog and ice, and quickly changing wind currents, so that a fog can creep up on you and blot out the world in a split second. “Well, this was the ocean that the Lindberghs were going to cross. And they crossed it. On Friday, August 14th, they started out. They were the first to cross by that route, blazing a new aviation trail. For half an hour there was silence. Then the St. Paul Naval station in the Pribiloffs made the first radio contact. Anne Lindbergh signaled that everything was all right, the weather was good, and the flying fine. Every half hour the station sent out signals, and gave directions, because up north there, so near the magnetic pole, a regular compass is thrown way off.