The Werte twins thought it interesting that there are 2 sets of twin islands in the upper part of the bay, one called the 'Brothers' and the other 'Sisters'. They were navigational hazards more than islands, was my observation which they thought was pretty humorous. We sailed past a desolate point that the boys told me was called "San Quentin", a former Spanish prison, not much improved by the current administration. 'Old Spanish Hell Hole' Albert said, spitting into the water. Alvin made a hex sign and even I felt we were well quit of the place.

 I forgot to mention that our continuous background as we sailed was all the abandoned ships anchored wherever there seemed a bit of space available. The number was too great to comprehend and even more difficult to put to paper. According to my two reliable sources most were simply left abandoned, some were used for storage, a few of the ones closer to the city used for cheap lodging.

 Finally we were out and away from the ships graveyard, coming through a marshy area, and in to the great Suisuin (sic) Bay. We were at the mouth of the delta.

 Treacherous sandbars shifting even as we glided over them, the shallow draft of our craft almost seeing to life its skirts like a lady crossing a muddy street. We gently glided over some of these with only 6 inches to spare. The Twins, poles at the ready to alter our course, and me at the tiller! I think this was a sign of trust, and I must say I did pretty well steering the outfit.

 We were beyond the first set of treacheries before we stopped for the night, lantern burning on our deck to help avoid those who traversed the river after nightfall. The river had a lot of flotsam and jetsam floating down at any given moment. I have heard the term, but never had a better example of exactly what that meant. Anything and everything that would float would come by us little and big from twigs to branches, cut lumber, to whole logs or the better part of them surely. These particularly presented a hazard to our type of navigation, but I had seen the brothers work together with their long poles to alter the course of an immense log with a hearty push and a rather savage grunt to accompany it. They said they had seen dead animal carcasses, old skiffs, and a collection of things even worth picking up, if you were of a mind to.

 Rumor had it that there was a gold laden little boat that was too light for its cargo, that had sank and was swept down the current and was lost 'at least until I find it' said Alvin. Albert said the whole thing was fiction, but both admitted they had looked for it and not found a trace. I suppose the gambler's heart was still beating in Alvin after all.

 Next day I was back at my post on the tiller, but found it a different kettle of fish. The river narrowed and the current went up a notch or two, it was much the same drill as the day before but with more urgency and hazard. I was told to 'keep her in the middle' and I did that as best as I could while they poled the objects away and kept the sails full of wind. My arms ached in a short while from the effort of holding course, fighting the current. It was after 2 more full days of this with little rest that Alvin and I had our little Voodoo discussion.

 I think I was afforded a status of an almost family member. I was declared lucky by Alvin and a good stout fellow by Albert due to an incident on what would prove to be the last set of narrows we would travail. It was a most sticky situation, the raft tipping over in an unexpected wave. Has we tipped to our left we would have been flotsam. As it was we tipped to our right, the mast snagging on the bank. This section was blocked in part by a large log hazard that created a wave action that would have rivaled the 'Horn' any day of the week. when we hit this quite suddenly the raft was tipped up and over, turning us head over teakettle to put it politely. I was thinking in less formal terms at the time. I slipped over to the right, holding on to the tiller for dear life. I was buffeted to and fro barely hanging on and then I was under water as the tiller parted company from the raft. Then I was under water, hearing a roaring in my ears, being swept down a sandbar to the right, my tiller digging in more auspiciously.

 I felt what I supposed to be the fingers of the water trying to pry loose my fingers, and then I heard muffled shouting and barking of a most excited nature. I opened my eyes to find that my two companions had located me and were attempting to pry my fingers off the tiller. I cooperated and we all bobbed to the surface, which was actually only about three feet under the water. We were very near the bank.

 The raft tipped up on its side, saved by the sandbar, the very type of hazard we had avoided so assiduously before, was up river about 50 yards or more waiting for us. When we got back to it, we tipped the raft back up, salvaging the tiller, which had not broken but had become unbolted. It was a hard pull because of the weight, but we somehow did it, poling ourselves over to the shore and tying the craft up to a tree on the bank.

 Our cargo being lashed down was unscathed. All that happened to it was that it rattled. Lucky it was we had no glass products with us; didn't phase the books or the nails either.

 After I had recovered my senses I found out that part of the reason I had been located so accurately was the ever dilligent (sic) Molly, who had abandoned ship at the first sign of high water, swimming in a most efficient paddle to the bank. This was not disloyalty, but practicality on her part. Molly had spotted me running down the bank as I was swept, and according to the boys got their attention by barking most loudly. I remembered hearing barking just before I went under the water. The dog it was pointed out when I was expressing gratitude was just as much responsible if not more so for saving my life.

 The fire was most welcome that night, and we all dried off most successfully, dining on fresh caught fish and game freshly shot. I felt a great deal of gratitude towards them all, but Molly most especially. She accepted my petting and scratching behind her ears graciously as I gave it.