IN THE DAYS OF SAIL 75 



make existence agreeable. Not so with the smacksman. 

 He had one small dog-hole of a cabin in which he was 

 forced to eat and sleep and drink and spend his leisure time, 

 and often enough that cabin would be wet or flooded during 

 the whole of a ten or eight weeks' voyage in the dead of 

 winter, while for long spells, in bad weather, it would be 

 impossible to get a hot drink or hot food. 



Even at its best the living accommodation in a smack 

 was bad. There was one cabin only, right aft, and in this 

 the cooking was done, meals were taken, and the crew 

 slept. The largest cabins in the largest vessels scarcely 

 afforded height enough for a man to stand upright, and the 

 task of entering and leaving the cramped space was at all 

 times difficult and often dangerous. A wooden ladder 

 with half a dozen steep steps usually formed the means 

 of going down and coming up from below, the companion 

 being just spacious enough to enable a man to get in and 

 out. In bad weather the hatch had to be drawn, and 

 those who ascended or descended had to watch for the 

 chance which the breaking seas gave them. Light was 

 usually given by a very small skylight, like a little box 

 whose sides were glazed and protected with brass or iron 

 rods ; and air was admitted, when possible, through the 

 skylight and the companion. When a gale was blowing 

 the skylight had to be battened down, and, as the com- 

 panion was kept closely shut for the most part, the at- 

 mosphere below became stifling and poisonous. Round 

 the sides of the cabin were four bunks, a pair on each side 

 on the same level, dark, fearsome cupboards, with doors 

 which could be shut. I nto these enclosed shelves, in winter- 

 time, the sodden and exhausted smacksman was glad to 

 climb, and to shut himself in, probably doing nothing 



