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Streeter, John Williams

"The Fat of the Land The Story of an American Farm"

As we steamed beyond the Lizard and the protecting
Cornish coast, the full force of the gale, from out the Irish Sea,
struck us. We were going nearly with it, and the good ship pitched and
reared like an angry horse, but did not roll much. Pitching is harder to
bear than rolling, and the decks were quickly vacated.
I turned into my stateroom soon after ten o'clock, and then happened a
thing which will hold a place in my memory so long as I have one. I did
not feel sleepy, but I was nervous, restless, and half sick. I lay on my
lounge for perhaps half an hour, and then felt impelled to go on deck. I
wrapped myself in a great waterproof ulster, pulled my storm cap over my
ears, and climbed the companionway. Two or three electric bulbs in
sheltered places on deck only served to make the darkness more intense.
I crawled forward of the ladies' cabin, and, supporting myself against
the donkey-engine, peered at the light above the crow's-nest and tried
to think that I could see the man on watch in the nest. I did see him
for an instant, when the next flash of lightning came, and also two
officers on the bridge; and I knew that Captain Bahrens was in the chart
house.


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