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White Wings Vol I. Fifty Years Of Sail In The New Zealand Trade, 1850 TO 1900

Getting Our Sea Legs

Getting Our Sea Legs.

So far I think most of us were enjoying the entirely novel experience. We were fortunate in having a fair run down Channel, and thus had time to become more or less accustomed to our surroundings. The experience of many who had the misfortune to strike a head wind for a start was by no means an enviable one, especially at night. The ship is sailing close-hauled under all plain sail, and as much of it as she can stagger under, causing her to heel over to an angle of from 15 to 20 degrees. Many of the passengers are unable to sleep, children are crying, and strange creaking noises fill the 'tween decks. There was no electric light in those days to enlighten the gloom; just one solitary lantern of one candle power hanging near the hatch. The officer in charge decides to "go about," calling out in a voice that could be heard far beyond the limits of the ship, "All hands 'bout ship." This, of course, is unintelligible to most, especially the women, some of whom would be in a state of nervous terror under the impression that there must be something wrong, otherwise why should all hands be required about the ship. Orders follow each other in rapid succession, every order being repeated by the crew, not in unison, but just as the spirit moves the individual. Repeating an order immediately on receiving it is an invariable rule on ship board, as the officer giving it knows that he has been understood.