"After a little practice, the boat was found to be very handy underwater, but on the surface she was a brute. They are proud of the great expanse of their basin at Barrow, but it was not nearly big enough for little Number One Holland to manoeuvre in comfortably.
Being short and stumpy, she was awkward to steer on the surface; and one day she alarmed the inmates of the sick-bay in the Hazard, her parent ship, by poking her big nose through the ship's side into their berths. Her plates were so stout that it did not hurt her at all, but the ship had to go into dock.
When it was at all rough, the boat, when running on the surface, was all awash, and nothing could be seen from the little conning tower. Everything had to be battened down; those below had to stay there; and those on deck, the captain and the coxswain, had to hang on as best they could. They could stop inside, of course, the captain using the periscope for looking out, but its lenses had an annoying habit of clouding over at critical moments; then he was done, and had to trust entirely to Providence and the compass."
