This wind must have been turned on to suit us.

I positively thought the _Kestrel_ was sailing fast to-day." "She's well enough as she is, but if we get into dirty weather, we ought to run in for the nearest port we can reach." "We are much more likely to run into dead calms, and have to sit whistling for the wind--dry work at best, but in this weather terrible." And he gulped down his rum, and nodded a dismissal.
The captain's forecast, as it turned out, was pretty near the mark.

Off the Cornish coast we fell into a succession of calms, which kept us practically motionless for half a week.

Even the light breezes which would have sufficed to send the _Arrow_ spinning through the water, failed utterly to put way upon our cranky tub; and every day the carpenter was growing more persistent in his complaints.

At last Captain Keogh ordered him to do what he pleased so long as he held his peace, whereupon the sound of hammering and tinkering might be heard for a day across the still water.
During these lazy days, Tim and I talked a great deal.