‘Port Watch to the river, Starboard Watch to P.T., Beattys, right and left . . . turn! By the right . . . double . . . march!’It was six o’clock in the morning. A grey Devon dawn had just established itself and its wan and cheerless light illuminated the Port Watch, in shorts and singlets, percolating down the steps towards the river and the Starboard Watch, also in shorts and singlets, panting up the hill towards the gymnasium. It was the start of a new day at Dartmouth and the Beattys, who experienced each on alternate days, could never decide which start, the river or the gymnasium, was the worse.The river normally took the shorter time. A skilful crew could occupy so much time manning their boat, getting out their oars, and starting to pull, that it was breakfast time before they had pulled more than a hundred yards from the buoy. After some practice Tom Bowles and Paul could arrange it so that they never left the buoy at all but appeared to Lieutenant Chipperd, the Beattys’ Boat Officer, on the jetty, to be waiting for Maconochie to untangle himself and get out his oar.The gymnasium, however, was warmer and it was easier there to go through the motions of intensive physical effort without in fact extending a muscle.
