The moment the crew stepped on dry land, every man, with the exception of the mate, deserted the ship, thoroughly satiated with the uncertainty pertaining to watching the Diamond Shoals. They indulged in a hearty carousal, and were arrested. And the captain, who also was not averse to enjoyment on shore, having lodged the charge of mutiny, followed their example. An inquiry was held, and the sequel is interesting. The captain, having deserted his ship upon reaching port, was dismissed from the service; the mate, who had provoked the captain, not only was acquitted of the grave charge, but was promoted to the command of the light-vessel, because there was one outstanding feature in his favour which negatived everything else--he had stuck to his post. Life on a lightship, although somewhat strenuous, has its interludes. In fine weather the men have considerable time on their hands, and while away the hours in various occupations. Fretwork, mat-making, carpentering, and other hobbies, are followed with keen enjoyment. Owing to the light attracting flocks of birds during the migratory seasons, the men often effect valuable captures on the deck, rare songsters and other specimens falling exhausted into their hands. Cages are contrived, and the silence of the living-quarters is relieved by the piping and trilling of the birds when once they have shaken down to their captivity. Meteorological work, which is practised in some cases, relieves the round of toil, while contributions to science are made by investigating the depths of the sea and its bed with small trawls and other devices, so as to secure data concerning life in the deep, the vagaries of currents, submarine temperatures, and so forth. The lightship, however, is both a safeguard and a menace. When she is riding quietly at the end of her chains she is an incalculable boon to the passing mariner, but after a gale the navigator and the light-keepers are suspicious. The boat may, and indeed probably has, dragged her anchors somewhat. Now, the seafarer on his chart has the precise position which the lightship should occupy. Consequently, if she has shifted and he is unaware of the error, his calculations will lead him astray. After a tempest the master of a lightship endeavours to ascertain if his craft has moved, and if he can he takes his bearings at once. If this is impossible, or if he entertains any doubt in his mind, he flies a signal, which warns the navigator that the lightship has moved. Unless the vessel is able to regain her station under her own steam, she communicates with the shore at once, and a boat is sent out to reset her. Every time the relief is effected the officer in charge takes the bearings, so that the lightship may be truly in the position she is intended to assume, and able to effect her humane work satisfactorily.