CHAPTER VII 

 AT SEA: ON PASSAGE 



THE decks of a whaler weighing anchor for an ex- 

 tended cruise presented a scene of confusion and 

 disorder. Many of the experienced members of 

 the crew had come aboard only a few hours before 

 in a drunken stupor or had been literally dumped into the 

 forecastle, where they lay grog-soaked and unmoving. Some 

 of these hands still resisted all efforts to rouse them out upon 

 deck, while others were able to respond but feebly and clums- 

 ily to the familiar orders and imprecations of the mates. The 

 green hands, though displaying a somewhat higher percentage 

 of sobriety, were even more helpless because of their ignorance 

 of everything pertaining to the intricate world of spar and rig- 

 ging. Faced with these twin handicaps of inebriety and inex- 

 perience, the officers were forced to undertake the routine 

 operations of getting the vessel under way with the small 

 handful of men who were serviceable, at times assisting in the 

 execution of their own orders. Meanwhile, they kept up a suc- 

 cession of admonitions, curses, and blows, calculated to elicit 

 as much activity as possible. 



After several hours of such pandemonium, when the vessel 

 stood boldly out to sea, the green hands experienced their first 

 touch of seasickness. With this familiar malady added to 

 their ignorance of the ship they were worse than useless. A 

 few captains recognized this fact frankly and allowed the new 

 men to spend the first day or two in getting their sea-legs. 

 But in most instances no such consideration was shown. 

 Clumsy and painful though their efforts might be, they were 

 forced to go through the form of taking part in every task 

 demanded of the crew. If they pleaded illness or fear, a 



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