Passages from The True Confessions of Charlotte Doyle

pg. 28:    "Everywhere I looked a great canvas sails of gray, from mainsail to main royal from flying jib to trysail, were bellied out."

pg. 35:    "Though the Seahawk heaved and rolled, creaked and groaned, her sails hung limply."

pg. 54:    "...men hauling on running lines and tackle until the desired sails were shifted and set."

pg. 66:    "...we ran before a steady wind that graced our helm and ruffled our hair.  With every sail bent we were making good progress..."

pg. 74:    "One afternoon the wind ceased.  And for days the Seahawk was becalmed."

pg. 89:    "The sails hung like dead cloth, the wheel was abandoned, the rigging rattled with eerie irrelevance.  The Seahawk was adrift.

pg. 120:    " '...you have agreed to climb to the top of the royal yard.  Do you know that's the highest sail on the main mast?  One hundred and thirty feet up."

pg. 121:    "This mast was, in fact, three great rounded lengths of wood, trees, in truth, affixed one end to the other.  Further, it supported four levels of sails..."

pg. 132:    "The wind was out of the northwest.  Our sails were taut.  Our studding sails were set.  Below, the ship's bow-as though pulled by her winged figurehead plunged repeatedly, stirring froth and foam."

pg. 134:    "...a sail is made of very heavy canvas.  When one gets tangled on a spar it must be pulled loose quickly or it can tear or burst, and in so doing, pull down rigging, spars, even a mast.  A sail out of control can flick like a wild whip and send a full-grown sailor into a senseless spin."

pg. 141:    "Under the brutal force of the wind, many of the sails had pulled free from their running ropes and were now tearing and snapping out of control, pulling themselves into wild whips."

pg. 143:    "The next moment the wind shifted and the great canvas collapsed..."

pg. 144:    "The foreyard is one of the biggest sails, one of a sailing ship's true engines."


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