To seaward, white sails glinting in the setting sunlight, a long beautiful wooden schooner can be seen running down before the wind, her bearing fixed on the quay on the deepwater side of Mudcat Island. As she bears close you can see her name in gold on the bows in bright gilt letters -- The Mudcat Schooner -- and make out the figure of Joe high in the cross trees keeping a sharp eye on the channel in.

At the last minute, almost too late, in an ineffable swoop of dauntless grace, the helm is turned down, the sheets are run out, and she spins on her heels nestling perfectly to the dockside in a clatter of lowering canvas and heaving lines. From the deck a score of 'Catters crowd to the rails, mandolins, banjos and Dreadnoughts blazing with perfect accord, their voices raised in a stirring sailor's tune:

"Away! The Mudcat!
The Mudcat Schooner, o!
That Mudcat takes you anywhere
That you would want to go!

Hands break out hosepipes and secure the canvas and lines, and a graceful scrolled and hand-carved wooden gangplank, gaily decked with snow-white canvas panels and monkeyfisted rope rails, is lowered away to the quay. Three sideboys leap to the quarterdeck and set their bos'n pipes screeling in unison as Joe and Max are piped ashore to join the merry-making.