Next, to strengthen the hull and hold everything firmly in position, I nailed a top streak along from stem to stern, so as to form a gunwale, and another at the lower edges of the cases, tarring everything as I proceeded, including myself; but as the weather was hot a pair of old pants cut off at the knee, and a ragged shirt, were my only encumbrance in the way of clothing. Now I proceeded to cut down the partitions between the various sections for a depth of six inches. I then carefully caulked the tiny crack between each of these bulkheads, and turning the surplus tin over, nailed it to the wood. Over these bulkheads I placed thwarts six inches wide, and then proceeded to make a keel. This I did by bolting two thicknesses of board together and cutting them down, so that it measured three inches deep at the stem and six at the stern. The fastening on of this keel gave me more trouble than anything else connected with the boat, for I had no bolts long enough to go through six inches of timber, and then through the bottom of the boat. There was only one way, and that was to make some bolts eight inches long, and this I did from some pieces of three-eight iron rod I found. Nine bolts took me a whole day to make--from six in the morning till six in the evening. My anvil was a granite rock, which I had to carry on my shoulders from the beach; but it served its purpose capitally. My labours at the anvil were considerably lightened by the singing of all the appropriate songs I could think of, especially the "Village Blacksmith," which I think I must have worn out while making my bolts and other fastenings. I made heads to my bolts, and thrusting them through the keel, fastened them off on the inside with iron collars or burrs. To make the keel more secure I ran a strap of iron up the stern, from the heel of the keel, and screwed it in place. For the mast I made a step by crossing two pieces of board, and where they crossed cut a hole through sufficiently large to take my mast, which was a short one, being only about ten feet long. These cross pieces not only held the mast, but also greatly strengthened the bows, which felt the first and full force of the waves. Then the rudder had to be made and attached, thole pins provided, and the whole concern tarred inside and out, tin and all. Oars had to be made, and with these I had some little difficulty; but by steadily pegging away I at length turned out three very serviceable, if not elegant, ones. The third was in case of a breakage, for it would never do to go to sea without a spare oar, as in case of accident I might have drifted helplessly goodness knows where.[1] The Bay of Avranches is a large place, and as the Channel Islands do not lie in the direct course of ocean-going vessels, it would be extremely awkward, even on a calm day, to be alone in a boat with but one oar.