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was offering her a cup of tea & asked, "Would your husband like a cup". She replied plaintively, "He's not my husband; I don't know who he is". And she cared less. After today she has my sympathy.
9.30 pm : We (the whole fleet) are proceeding without lights & all cabins not fitted with dead-lights are in darkness. The moon lightens the heaving ocean with a ghastly light, and the submarines speed onward hardly visible save for the foam surrounding them.
Friday 4th : When we came on deck this morning nothing was visible except the vessels of the fleet ploughing their way through the long swell. About 8 o'clock we passed a steamer heading south. No other vessels were sighted but at 4.30 pm land was reported dead ahead. I rushed out with my glasses but it was not till nearly 5.15 that I could make it out through the mist & spume. Shortly afterwards a searchlight flashed out a message in morse to our leaders, & the signal halyards on each ship were soon alive with fluttering flags. The sun sank & the moon rose almost coincidentally so that we approached the land in a sort of twilight. The waves dashed madly on the reef at the entrance to the harbor, the searchlight flashed continuously, and to the accompaniment of the gale rattling through our rigging we entered Port Moresby. On the rocks to the right by the wreck of the "Merrie England", made familiar in the works of Beatrice Grimshaw, we found that the searchlight came from the bows of the destroyer "Warrego" anchored at the southern extremity of the channel. After we had passed she weighed anchor and came up the harbour on our port beam. After slowly