Two Years Before the Mast | Page 7

If we get along well
together, we shall have a comfortable time; if we don't, we shall have
hell afloat. All you have got to do is to obey your orders, and do your
duty like men,-- then you will fare well enough; if you don't, you will
fare hard enough,-- I can tell you. If we pull together, you will find me
a clever fellow; if we don't, you will find me a bloody rescal. That's all
I've got to say. Go below, the larboard[1] watch!''
I, being in the starboard or second mate's watch, had the opportunity of
keeping the first watch at sea. Stimson, a young man making, like
myself, his first voyage, was in the same watch, and as he was the son
of a professional man, and had been in a merchant's counting-room in
Boston, we found that we had some acquaintances and topics in
common. We talked these matters over-- Boston, what our friends were
probably doing, our voyage, &c.-- until he went to take his turn at the

lookout, and left me to myself. I had now a good opportunity for
reflection. I felt for the first time the perfect silence of the sea. The
officer was walking the quarter-deck, where I had no right to go, one or
two men were talking on the forecastle, whom I had little inclination to
join, so that I was left open to the full impression of everything about
me. However much I was affected by the beauty of the sea, the bright
stars, and the clouds driven swiftly over them, I could not but
remember that I was separating myself from all the social and
intellectual enjoyments of life. Yet, strange as it may seem, I did then
and afterwards take pleasure in these reflections, hoping by them to
prevent my becoming insensible to the value of what I was losing.
But all my dreams were soon put to flight by an order from the officer
to trim the yards, as the wind was getting ahead; and I could plainly see
by the looks the sailors occasionally cast to windward, and by the dark
clouds that were fast coming up, that we had bad weather to prepare for,
and I had heard the captain say that he expected to be in the Gulf
Stream by twelve o'clock. In a few minutes eight bells were struck, the
watch called, and we went below. I now began to feel the first
discomforts of a sailor's life. The steerage, in which I lived, was filled
with coils of rigging, spare sails, old junk, and ship stores, which had
not been stowed away. Moreover, there had been no berths put up for
us to sleep in, and we were not allowed to drive nails to hang our
clothes upon. The sea, too, had risen, the vessel was rolling heavily,
and everything was pitched about in grand confusion. There was a
complete ``hurrah's nest,'' as the sailors say, ``everything on top and
nothing at hand.'' A large hawser had been coiled away on my chest;
my hats, boots, mattress, and blankets had all fetched away and gone
over to leeward, and were jammed and broken under the boxes and
coils of rigging. To crown all, we were allowed no light to find
anything with, and I was just beginning to feel strong symptoms of
sea-sickness, and that listlessness and inactivity which accompany it.
Giving up all attempts to collect my things together, I lay down on the
sails, expecting every moment to hear the cry, ``All hands ahoy!'' which
the approaching storm would make necessary. I shortly heard the
raindrops falling on deck thick and fast, and the watch evidently had
their hands full of work, for I could hear the loud and repeated orders of

the mate, trampling of feet, creaking of the blocks, and all the
accompaniments of a coming storm. In a few minutes the slide of the
hatch was thrown back, which let down the noise and tumult of the
deck still louder, the cry of ``All hands ahoy! tumble up here and take
in sail,'' saluted our ears, and the hatch was quickly shut again. When I
got upon deck, a new scene and a new experience was before me.
The little brig was close-hauled upon the wind, and lying over, as it
then seemed to me, nearly upon her beam ends. The heavy head sea
was beating against her bows with the noise and force almost of a
sledgehammer, and flying over the deck, drenching us completely
through. The topsail halyards had been let go, and the great sails were
filling out and backing against the masts with a noise like thunder; the
wind was whistling through the rigging; loose ropes were flying about;
loud and,