Word: mists
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Dates: during 1930-1939
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Wind and sun are the only efficacious dispellers of fog. But to dissipate thin shallow fogs such as rise over a harbor the warm morning after a still, clear night, Professor McAdie suggests that fireboats squirt their streams at the mist. "Electrified spray from these mighty nozzles would not only wash a channel through the fog, but cause the fog droplets to coalesce and agglomerate and drop as a drizzling rain. The squirting would not be very expensive...
...leading crew. As the distance to the finish flags dwindled, however, the Juniors gradually pulled into the lead, and although continually pressed by the Senior boat, coasted across the finish with ample leeway over the 1931 men, while the second-year boat was lost in the grey mist...
Columbia paddled in a chilly mist along the Harlem River to the starting line. Macrae Sykes was stroking. He was nervous in his freshman races last year but this year has shown a smooth rhythm, easy to pick up and follow. The third boat in the race was Pennsylvania, whose lightness Russell ("Rusty") Callow, once coach of great Washington crews, defended by saying: "I never cared much for very big oarsmen. This is the best material I've had at Penn." With twelve special buses trailing them along the bank the three sprinted away with Columbia in the lead...
...Maryland Hunt Cup race in Worthington Valley been so small as it was last week. Some of the best "leppers" in the U. S. were entered, but many were scratched from the post list. Only seven were at the barrier when the starter sent them off into the mist and drizzle. Only one seemed to count. That was Reel Foot. He was running what trainers call a Billy Barton race, a smothering race, pulling away in great bounds at the start with a speed clearly geared to last to the finish. At the first mile he was four lengths...
Capt. Malcolm Campbell, British racing driver, ordered his mechanics to give the fishtailed, monster-snouted Bluebird a shove. Slipping into first gear he pointed her up Daytona Beach toward the judges' stand. A white mist hung over the course and the sand was wet. When he was going 80 m.p.h. he shifted the Napier motor to second speed. At 125 m.p.h. he changed to high. The motor settled into a rising drone like the hum of an enormous bee. At the end of the ten-mile course, without stopping for the usual tire change and mechanical adjustment, he turned...