After I had delivered my dispatches I returned to the ship and was promptly sent away again to take the gunner to the store-ship _Fauvette_ to get some gunnery instruments. By this time the sea was very big for a small steamboat, and was almost dead on the beam. We were rolling nearly 60° each side, and constantly shipping seas, which poured down the stump of the broken funnel and nearly put the furnace out. The store-ship was a good two miles away, and it took us nearly half-an-hour to reach her. At last we got within about twenty yards of her, and I ran my boat down the leeside, looking for a ladder or gangway; seeing none, I ran under her stern and went alongside to windward of her. Here the seas were enormous, and as we rose on a huge wave the gunner leaped for the ladder, missed his footing, hung on for a second, and then dropped into the sea between the boat and the ship’s side. We managed to haul him out at once, but it was a bit of luck that the boat was not carried in towards the ship’s side by a wave, as it would most certainly have crushed, and probably killed him. Once he was safe on board again I hailed the ship and asked them to put out a ladder on the leeside, as I could see it was much too dangerous work going alongside to windward, and I didn’t care to risk it again. Eventually the gunner’s mission was safely accomplished, and we returned to our own ship without further incident. After lunch I had to get my boat coaled and watered, and at about 5 p.m. the cruiser with our officers on board came back to her moorings, and I was sent to bring them off to our ship again. Then at 6.30. I had to take the Torpedo Lieutenant and the gunner (T.) over to _H.M.S. “——,”_ and to wait an hour for them, lying off in the dark with a big sea running. Thank goodness I am a good sailor—don’t know what it is to be sea-sick; but anyone less fortunate in their interior economy would have had an uncommonly miserable time! As it was I was only rather cold, very hungry, and very bored. At last they reembarked and I returned on board and got my dinner, which I was much in need of. That night we put to sea, and at 2 on the following morning “Action” sounded—the great landing at Gallipoli had begun. All water-tight doors were hastily closed and all electric light cut off. We had to go up on deck to get to the Fore T.S., and away to the right could be seen the first faint streaks of dawn, and the land showing very faintly against the sky. Down in the Fore T.S. we worked by candlelight, eagerly awaiting the sunrise when the great bombardment would begin. * * * * * _Of that bombardment he spoke but little, and wrote not at all. I think he felt it too big a thing to tackle._