Besides this, it is likewise advisable to take a stock of coloured
linen. The office of washerwoman is filled by a sailor, so that it
may easily be imagined that the linen does not return from the wash
in the best possible condition.

When the sailors are employed in shifting the sails, great care must
be taken to avoid injury by the falling of any of the ropes. But
all these inconveniences are comparatively trifling; the greatest
amount of annoyance begins towards the end of the voyage. The
captain's mistress is his ship. At sea he allows her to wear an
easy neglige, but in port she must appear in full dress. Not a sign
of the long voyage, of the storms, of the glowing heat she has
suffered, must be visible. Then begins an incessant hammering,
planing, and sawing; every flaw, every crack or injury is made good,
and, to wind up, the whole vessel is painted afresh. The worst of
all, however, is the hammering when the cracks in the deck are being
repaired and filled up with pitch. This is almost unbearable.

But enough of annoyances. I have described them merely to prepare,
in some degree, those who have never been to sea. Persons residing
in sea-port towns do not, perhaps, stand in need of this, for they
hear these matters mentioned every day; but such is not the case
with us poor souls, who have lived all our lives in inland cities.
Very often we hardly know how a steamer or a sailing vessel looks,
much less the mode of life on board them. I speak from experience,
and know too well what I myself suffered on my first voyage, simply
because, not having been warned beforehand, I took nothing with me
save a small stock of linen and clothes.