The medium-sized destroyers, like the _Reid_ and _Preston_, which also weathered this hurricane, had a narrow beam and a shallow draft that made them roll terrifically, but, on the other hand, they could be sealed up like bottles, and they dived through it with no great risk of foundering even when swept from end to end. With less than half the tonnage of the _Corsair_ they had ten thousand horse-power to whirl their triple screws. The decks might be washed clean of gear, but there were no houses to be knocked to pieces. The popular fancy that the destroyer is a fragile craft was disproved in the war zone. There were no more seaworthy, tenacious ships afloat. Concerning what happened during this black night when the _Corsair_ seemed to be washing to pieces and her holds were flooding, there were various versions and opinions. Most of the youthful landsmen, convinced that the yacht was going to the bottom, were frightened out of a year’s growth and not in the least ashamed to admit it. If they said their prayers, it was to be counted in their favor. The professional seafarers had their own misgivings, but with the stubborn, unreasonable confidence of their kind, they somehow expected to pull her through, believing in the ship as long as she was able to float. This was particularly true of Lieutenant Commander Porter, who had lived with the _Corsair_ for so many years that she was almost a part of himself. He knew her moods, her strength and her weakness, and because she had never failed him he could not have been persuaded that she was unable to survive. Man has contrived many cunningly ingenious structures, but none of them nobler than a staunch and well-found ship. The _Corsair_ was a shell of thin steel plates, but every line and curve and hollow of them had been influenced by the experiences of centuries of warfare with the sea. A good ship is, in a way, the heritage from unnumbered builders who, patiently, intelligently, wrought in wood by rule of thumb to fashion the frames and timbers and planking of frigates and barks and stately clippers long since vanished. The _Corsair_ was given beauty, to a sailor’s eye, but there was more than this—the indomitable quality of resistance which is like the will to endure. What may be called the professional language of mariners is curiously restrained and matter-of-fact. It is to be found in the pages of ship’s log-books, which are, as a rule, the dryest possible reading. This hurricane, for instance, in which so many amazing and heart-quaking things happened, in which the _Corsair_ all but foundered, is dismissed in such entries as these, so far as the ship’s record is concerned: 8 P.M. to Midnight: 8.25 changed course N.N.E., speed 7 knots. 8.45 changed course N. Hurricane blowing from North. Sea very rough. Ship making no headway and shipping a great deal of water forward and over stern. 11.00 reduced speed to 5 knots. Possible to steer ship only by using propellers as well as rudder.