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 is 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 clambers 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 sickening 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