MAKING OUR EASTING DOWN 25 
smaller cabin farther aft which he shares with one other 
man only, and his troubles are simplified. 
Owing to the fact that the seams in the deck above have 
travelled many voyages, and have been strained in addition 
by the boat davits and deck-houses built on the poop, a 
good deal of water from this part of the deck, which 1s 
always awash in bad weather, finds its way below, that is 
into the upper bunks of our cabins. In order that only a 
minimum of this may find its way into our blankets a series 
of shoots, invented and carefully tended by the occupants 
of these bunks, are arranged to catch this water as it falls 
and carry it over our heads on to the deck of the cabin. 
Thus it is that when this sleepy officer or scientist clam- 
bers down on to the deck he will, if he is lucky, find the 
water there, instead of leaving it in his bunk. He searches 
round for his sea-boots, gets into his oilskins, curses if the 
strings of his sou’wester break as he tries to tie them extra 
firmly round his neck, and pushes along to the open door 
into the wardroom. It is still quite dark, for the sun does 
not rise for another hour and a half, but the diminished 
light from the swinging oil-lamp which hangs there shows 
him a desolate early morning scene which he comes to hate 
—especially if he is inclined to be sick. 
As likely as not more than one sea has partially found 
its way down during the night, and a small stream runs 
over the floor each time the ship rolls. The white oilcloth 
has slipped off the table, and various oddments, dirty cocoa 
cups, ash-trays, and other litter from the night are rolling 
about too. The tin cups and plates and crockery in the 
pantry forrard of the wardroom come together with a sick- 
ening crash. 
The screw keeps up a ceaseless chonk-chonk-chonk 
(pause), chonk-chonk-chonk (pause), chonk-chonk-chonk. 
Watching his opportunity he slides down across the wet 
linoleum to the starboard side, whence the gangway runs 
up to the chart-house and so out on to the deck. Having 
glanced at the barograph slung up in the chart-room, and 
using all his strength to force the door out enough to 
squeeze through, he scrambles out into blackness. 
