"Yes; but you will get four or five fathoms almost up to the beaches.
When I was here, the Bellevite was anchored outside, and we went gunning
and fishing in St. Andrew's Bay. The bay is about thirty miles long; but
it is as crooked as a ram's horn, and there is no town on it, though
there are some scattered houses," added Christy. "We shot fat ducks, and
caught plenty of red snappers and pompana there."
"And a half ten!" shouted the leadsman, as though he meant to have his
figures understood, as they indicated the shoaling of the depth.
But Christy gave no order to reduce the speed of the vessel, and seemed
to feel so thoroughly at home that Mr. Flint began to be a little
nervous. The young commander had carefully studied the chart of the
coast with the practical knowledge he had of the locality.
"Can you form any idea where we are, Captain Passford?" asked the
lieutenant.
"I figured up the course a while ago, and I think we are off St.
Andrew's Bay. If they had not put her about and run for an hour or more
to the westward, I should be satisfied in regard to my position; as it
is, I am not quite clear in regard to it," replied the commander.
"Quarter less ten!" shouted the leadsman, with even more vigor than
before.
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