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July 9. 1915. Beautiful calm cool weather. River placid - what a difference with yesterday. Got [[strikethrough]] up [[/strikethrough]] away at about 7. with little car. Capt. [[Peene?]] tells me his tugboat [[draws?]] too much water too approach the [[?]]. So I telephoned to Petersen the Yachtbuilder of [[Nyacht?]] whom I went to fetch at Tarrytown with my car [[^]]I had [[first consultest?]] from Ferren. He is a little talkative good natured [[dane?]], always smoking his cigar Gebert and Glenander are salvaging and trying to take out the boat any portable articles. "Cygnet" now is half submerged and lies on side, signal mast towards river, so that part of hull is visible. Hole about 10" in bow, and a bad [[crack?]] on stern [[exposed?]]. Petersen thinks can stop holes and [[pump?]] her dry. Boorish surly janitor at Yacht Club.  I feel disgusted

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