The course and soundings would have agreed with the French shore in the neighbourhood of Cape La Hogue. Something had to be done, and quickly. The light was getting clearer but no land could be seen. If the vessel was on the French coast it would be fatal to haul her wind, if on the English coast it would be destruction to bear up. What was to be done? Over went the lead again. Twelve fathoms. That was enough, thank you. There was too much sea on to stay the ship in a hurry, so the captain wore her round and stood off on the port tack to get back where he came from. The compass soon showed that the flood tide was setting the vessel in by the light, and there was nothing for it but to wear again and get out past the light on the old course, if it could be done. The captain took the wheel, and calling to the crew to pull hard if ever they pulled in their lives, sent her round again. It was hit or miss, but the vessel was smart, and was smartly handled. She came round like a duck and just managed to go clear of the light, which after all, turned out to be St. Catherine’s. It had never been altered. The “Berean’s” Races. In her 27 years of sailing out to the Antipodes and home, the _Berean_ had many a contest with clippers twice her size, in which she gave a very good account of herself. Captain Wyrill gave a very interesting description of three of these encounters in the _Nautical Magazine_ a few years ago, and I do not think I can do better than quote his own words. He writes:— Coming home from Tasmania in the _Berean_ early in 1870, about the equator and nearing the tedious “variables,” alias “doldrums,” alias “horse latitudes,” we overhauled the clipper ship _Yosemite_, from San Francisco for United Kingdom for orders. Her captain signalled for permission to come on board, and a prompt reply of welcome went up. The captain reported himself tired and restless, that he was racing home with two or three ships, and was anxious to know what vessels we had spoken. My list was produced, but none of his competitors was in it. After a pleasant visit the captain returned to his ship giving me the names of two of his antagonists. _Berean_ gradually crept away from _Yosemite_, and in about two days she had dipped below the horizon, but was still visible from aloft. By this time we were coming up with two ships, which, by their spread of stunsails, water-sails, Jimmy Greens, etc., were evidently in a great hurry. In exchanging signals they proved to be the two vessels racing the _Yosemite_, viz., ship _Lady Blomfield_ and barque _Cerastes_; the latter was slightly ahead. We passed within hail of the _Lady Blomfield_, and when I reported the _Yosemite_ not far astern the captain was greatly excited. Throwing up his cap, he exclaimed, “Go and tell the other ship there is a bet of £100 between them.”