4 STUDIES IN BIRD-MIGRATION 



Life in a lightship (apart from mal de mer, from which 

 even the crew are not on all occasions immune) is un- 

 doubtedly one of considerable hardship and discomfort. 

 It is the life of a seaman spent under the most trying condi- 

 tions — namely, of one whose ship is ever the sport of the 

 winds and waves. Off the Kentish Knock sands the set of 

 the tide is so strong from north to south, and vice versa, 

 that the lightship rides out gales from the east and west 



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broadside to the waves. It was on these occasions that 

 life on board became most trying. Then I was 

 compelled to remain in my bunk, where I was sometimes 

 so violently rocked in my cradle on the deep, that I found 

 it decidedly difficult to avoid being ruthlessly tossed 

 out of it. On these occasions, too, all the skylights 

 were battened down, and artificial lights were burned 

 below, and these, along with the galley close at hand, 

 raised the temperature of the cabin to a degree that 



