Sailing - Smooth Sailing - Sailing Vacation - Pleasure Sailing
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A Day's Pleasure
An excerpt from the beginning of CHAPTER I. THE MORNING.
THEY were not a large family, and their pursuits and habits were very simple; yet the summer was lapsing toward the first pathos of autumn before they found themselves all in such case as to be able to take the day's pleasure they had planned so long. They had agreed often and often that nothing could be more charming than an excursion down the Harbor, either to Gloucester, or to Nahant, or to Nantasket Beach, or to Hull and Hingham, or to any point within the fatal bound beyond which is seasickness. They had studied the steamboat advertisements, day after day, for a long time, without making up their minds which of these charming excursions would be the most delightful; and when they had at last fixed upon one and chosen some day for it, that day was sure to be heralded by a long train of obstacles, or it dawned upon weather that was simply impossible. Besides, in the suburbs, you are apt to sleep late, unless the solitary ice-wagon of the neighborhood makes a very uncommon rumbling in going by; and I believe that the excursion was several times postponed by the tardy return of the pleasurers from dreamland, which, after all, is not the worst resort, or the least interesting - or profitable, for the matter of that. But at last the great day came, - a blameless Thursday alike removed from the cares of washing and ironing days, and from the fatigues with which every week closes. One of the family chose deliberately to stay at home; but the severest scrutiny could not detect a hindrance in the health or circumstances of any of the rest, and the weather was delicious. Everything, in fact, was so fair and so full of promise, that they could almost fancy a calamity of some sort hanging over its perfection, and possibly bred of it; for I suppose that we never have anything made perfectly easy for us without a certain reluctance and foreboding. That morning they all got up so early that they had time to waste over breakfast before taking the 7.30 train for Boston; and they naturally wasted so much of it that they reached the station only in season for the 8.00. But there is a difference between reaching the station and quietly taking the cars, especially if one of your company has been left at home, hoping to cut across and take the cars at a station which they reach some minutes later, and you, the head of the party, are obliged, at a loss of breath and personal comfort and dignity, to run down to that station and see that the belated member has arrived there, and then hurry back to your own and embody the rest, with their accompanying hand-bags and wraps and sun-umbrellas, into some compact shape for removal into the cars, during the very scant minute that the train stops at Charlesbridge. Then when you are all aboard, and the tardy member has been duly taken up at the next station, and you would be glad to spend the time in looking about on the familiar variety of life which every car presents in every train on every road in this vast American world, you are oppressed and distracted by the cares which must attend the pleasure-seeker, and which the more thickly beset him the more deeply he plunges into enjoyment.
Sailing The Troubled Sea
This book documents the United States Coast Guard career of Herbert E. Nolda, from his enlistment in April 1942 to his discharge in December 1945. The book also encompasses his early life before the war and his life after the war as it relates to veterans' matters. On the morning of December 7, 1941, Herbert was living in Santa Monica, California, where he was employed at the huge Douglas Aircraft factory. He arrived at a boarding house for lunch to find the landlady hysterical with the news of the bombing of Pearl Harbor. Several other young men were there too. Within minutes one of the young men stood up and announced: "Our country's in trouble and needs our help. I'm going down to enlist. Is anyone else coming with me?" "I am," Herbert replied. His time in the service was varied, from patrols on the East Coast, to four major invasions in North Africa and Europe. On June 6, 1944, D-Day, he was manning the #1 gun on his ship, LCI(L) #92 as she plowed into the maelstrom of Omaha Beach. Her sister ship, LCI(L) #91 had hit the beach a half hour earlier. She had been Herbert's home until a month before D-Day. The two small ships became famous in the annuals of D-Day. Later, in mid-August 1945, Herbert was aboard the troop transport, USS Admiral H.T. Mayo anchored at Ulithi Atoll in the South Pacific when the guns of the neighboring ships started firing, but there were no enemy planes in sight. . . This book is filled with the grim and the humorous incidents of war as experienced by a young sailor from landlocked Nebraska. Also interwoven are shorter biographies of some of Herbert's crewmembers. It is richly illustrated with 185 photographs and other historical documents.
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