All
washing, sewing, and reading was given up, and we did nothing but
eat, sleep, and stand our watch, leading what might be called a
Cape Horn life. The forecastle was too uncomfortable to sit up in;
and whenever we were below, we were in our berths. To prevent the
rain and the sea-water which broke over the bows from washing
down, we were obliged to keep the scuttle closed, so that the
forecastle was nearly air-tight. In this little, wet, leaky hole,
we were all quartered, in an atmosphere so bad that our lamp,
which swung in the middle from the beams, sometimes actually
burned blue, with a large circle of foul air about it. Still, I
was never in better health than after three weeks of this life. I
gained a great deal of flesh, and we all ate like horses. At every
watch when we came below, before turning in, the bread barge and
beef kid were overhauled. Each man drank his quart of hot tea
night and morning, and glad enough we were to get it; for no
nectar and ambrosia were sweeter to the lazy immortals than was a
pot of hot tea, a hard biscuit, and a slice of cold salt beef to
us after a watch on deck. To be sure, we were mere animals, and,
had this life lasted a year instead of a month, we should have
been little better than the ropes in the ship.
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