I have seen various life-crews at drill and I spent a season on the beach at Cape Nome, where everything is surf work, but these old Danes, averaging fifty years of age and the living caricatures of that great soap advertisement, "Life Buoy Soap," familiar to all the reading public, were in a class by themselves. On entering the breakers, they dropped a kedge anchor with a long line on it, and literally slacked the boat through. A gigantic comber, one of those curling ones, just commencing to break, would rush upon us; up would go the stern of the boat and just at the instant that I would expect her to go end for end, the old "Sinbad" tending the anchor line would check her and in another instant we would rush for the beach, just as the Kanakas ride the surf on a board at Honolulu. When we finally grounded the men from the beach ran out and seized the women, the balance then ran the boat higher up the beach. The natives must have thought that we were a bunch of raving maniacs, the way we carried on, getting our feet on good "terra firma" again. We danced, we shouted, and cheered, and made damn fools of ourselves generally; but to my mind the situation warranted it. What a fitting climax to an adventure of this kind ... eight months a prisoner on a Teuton raider, and set free at the very gates of Germany, at the eleventh hour and fifty-ninth minute. It is hard to realise just what this meant to us all--possibly the very lives of my wife and kiddie, as I feel sure that they could not have stood much more, and at the best, there was from one to a possible five years' being buried alive in a German internment camp, and living under the conditions that I know to exist in that country. We were taken to the nearby lighthouse, where the keepers and their families did everything possible for us, drying our clothes and giving us hot coffee to warm ourselves. About midday we went into Skagen, two miles distant, and separated, going to various hotels. My family and I put up at the Sailors' Home and were excellently taken care of by our host, Mr. Borg Hansen. I wish to go on record here as saying that at no place that I have ever been in have I met a more whole-souled, more hospitable or more likable class of people in my life than these Danish people of the little town of Skagen. I met people there who were the quintessence of courtesy and hospitality; in fact, they were "regular Danish ladies and gentlemen." Here at Skagen our various Consuls took us in charge and sent us to Copenhagen, where we separated, going our several ways. APPENDIX APPENDIX During her fifteen months' cruise the _Wolf_ laid approximately five hundred mines and captured fourteen vessels, as follows: