1 My mighty rhythm was the lift and forward plunge of a ship on the sea.
2 I was not wrong when I decided that his days had been spent on the sea.
3 In this connection I cannot forbear relating my first experience with a boarding sea.
4 Then it was that the cruelty of the sea, its relentlessness and awfulness, rushed upon me.
5 One may see the soul stir in some men's eyes, but his were bleak, and cold, and grey as the sea itself.
6 The sea had turned a dull leaden grey and grown rougher, and was now tossing foaming whitecaps to the sky.
7 The storm had evidently broken during the night, though a huge sea was still running and a stiff wind blowing.
8 To the north, and not far away, a group of naked rocks thrust above the sea, on one of which I could distinguish a lighthouse.
9 They elevated the end of the hatch-cover with pitiful haste, and, like a dog flung overside, the dead man slid feet first into the sea.
10 The peculiar knowledge of the pilot and captain sufficed for many thousands of people who knew no more of the sea and navigation than I knew.
11 I had always conceived a burial at sea to be a very solemn and awe-inspiring event, but I was quickly disillusioned, by this burial at any rate.
12 Pacing back and forth the length of the hatchways and savagely chewing the end of a cigar, was the man whose casual glance had rescued me from the sea.
13 The lee rail, where the dead man lay, was buried in the sea, and as the schooner lifted and righted the water swept across the deck wetting us above our shoe-tops.
14 Once, in a gust, the rail dipped under the sea, and the decks on that side were for the moment awash with water that made a couple of the hunters hastily lift their feet.
15 And this strange vessel, with its terrible men, pressed under by wind and sea and ever leaping up and out, was heading away into the south-west, into the great and lonely Pacific expanse.
16 I remember thinking how comfortable it was, this division of labour which made it unnecessary for me to study fogs, winds, tides, and navigation, in order to visit my friend who lived across an arm of the sea.
17 The eyes themselves were of that baffling protean grey which is never twice the same; which runs through many shades and colourings like intershot silk in sunshine; which is grey, dark and light, and greenish-grey, and sometimes of the clear azure of the deep sea.
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