'I know every skipper on board every boat in the squadron,' answered his
friend. 'A good fellow, Wilkinson--thoroughly honest fellow.'
'Honest; oh yes, I know all about that. But how about his seamanship?
His certificates were wonderfully good, but they are not everything.
'Everything, my dear fellow,' cried the other; 'they are next to
nothing. But I believe Wilkinson is a tolerable sailor.'
This was not encouraging.
'He has never been unlucky, I believe.'
'My dear Smithson, you are a great authority in the City, but you are
not very well up in the records of the yachting world, or you would know
that your Captain Wilkinson was skipper on the _Orinoco_ when she ran
aground on the Chesil Bank, coming home from Cherbourg Regatta, fifteen
lives lost, and the yacht, in less than half an hour, ground to powder.
That was rather a bad case, I remember; for though it was a tempestuous
night, the accident would never have happened if Wilkinson had not
mistaken the lights. So you see his Trinity House papers didn't prevent
his going wrong.
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