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[Page 15]

3.

The G. A.. B

Dear Mother

If you could only see us now. I've been oh so much off colour – mal de mer. Nearly everybody has been the same too. We glided down Hobson's bay like a snail over a piece of glass. The rip at the heads was a forerunner of what was in store. Things gradually grew worse and after rounding Cape Otway we fairly stood on ends. That was on Sunday. But today, Tuesday we struck a sort of storm amongst storms. It came straight from Mount Erebus and nearly froze us. Marion's balaclava was called into commission and many other not often used articles of clothing. The boat had a continual list and shipped on many waves. We were terribly cramped up even on this boat with such great decks, and it made me wonder however Alan got along on the old Seangbee. But perhaps the weather was not so bad. She is pitching

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