heath, and few towns of any size; on the north side none. Seven
islands lie off the coast. All, except Borkum, which is round, are
attenuated strips, slightly crescent-shaped, rarely more than a mile
broad, and tapering at the ends; in length averaging about six miles,
from Norderney and Juist, which are seven and nine respectively, to
little Baltrum, which is only two and a half.

Of the shoal spaces which lie between them and the mainland,
two-thirds dry at low-water, and the remaining third becomes a system
of lagoons whose distribution is controlled by the natural drift of
the North Sea as it forces its way through the intervals between the
islands. Each of these intervals resembles the bar of a river, and is
obstructed by dangerous banks, over which the sea pours at every tide
scooping out a deep pool. This fans out and ramifies to east and west
as the pent-up current frees itself, encircles the islands, and
spreads over the intervening flats. But the farther it penetrates the
less coursing force it has, and as a result no island is girt
completely by a low-water channel. About midway at the back of each
of them is a 'watershed', only covered for five or six hours out of
the twelve. A boat, even of the lightest draught, navigating behind
the islands must choose its moment for passing these. As to
navigability, the North Sea Pilot sums up the matter in these dry
terms: 'The channels dividing these islands from each other and the
shore afford to the small craft of the country the means of
communication between the Ems and the Jade, to which description of
vessels only they are available.' The islands are dismissed with a
brief note or two about beacons and lights.

The more I looked at the chart the more puzzled I became. The islands
were evidently mere sandbanks. with a cluster of houses and a church