the chain-box spinning. The steel plates on the side were worn out and with each shake fell loose. The Hakko Maru searched as far north as 51.5° for the first boat, which had lost its anchor. Fragments of ice showed themselves, floating like living creatures between the slow-moving waves. Then a great mass of these broken pieces appeared, stretching out as far as the eye could reach. The next moment the fragments encircled the whole giving off a kind of foam and a vapour like steam. Suddenly cracking sounds came from all over the ship, and the decks and railings, which were wet with water, became covered with ice. The ship’s sides shone brightly with frost crystals, like a coating of face powder. Pressing hands to faces the sailors and fishermen ran along the deck.
The Kawasaki boat was not to be found.
Just before nine a boat was made out floating ahead. The boss rushed jubilantly along the deck, “Damn her, we’ve found her at last, damn her!” Soon a motor-launch was lowered, but it turned out that the boat was not the one they were looking for, but a much newer boat with number “36” on it.
Asakawa drummed on the side of the boat with his fingers.
“She’s in fine condition,” he grinned. “We’ll take her along with us.”
The boat No. 36 was hoisted on to the bridge of the Hakko Maru. As she hung in mid-air drops of water fell from her on to the deck. With an air of pride which seemed to say, “That’s a nice bit of work,” the boss surveyed the boat as she was
