ss
than while walking above, and my recovery hopeless.
I shall not harrow up the souls nor the stomachs of landsmen, as yet
reveling in blissful ignorance of its tortures, with any description of
sea-sickness. They will know all in ample season; or if not, so much the
better. But naked honesty requires a correction of the prevalent error
that this malady is necessarily transient and easily overcome. Thousands
who imagine they have been sea-sick on some River or Lake steamboat, or
even during a brief sleigh-ride, are annually putting to sea with as
little necessity or urgency as suffices to send them on a jaunt to
Niagara or the White Mountains. They suppose they may very probably be
"qualmish" for a few hours, but that (they fancy) will but highten the
general enjoyment of the voyage. Now it is quite true that any green
sea-goer _may_ be sick for a few hours only; he may even not be sick at
all. But the _probability_ is very far from this, especially when the
voyage is undertaken in any other than one of the four sunniest,
blandest months in the year. Of every hundred who cross the Atlantic for
the first time, I am confident that two-thirds endure more than they had
done in all the five years preceding--more than they would do during two
months' hard labor as convicts in a State Prison. Of _our_ two hundred,
I think fifty did not see a healthy or really happy hour during the
passage; while as many more were sufferers for at least half the time.
The other hundred were mainly Ocean's old acquaintances, and on that
account treated more kindly; but many of these had some trying hours.
Utter indifference to life and all its belongings is one of the
characteristics of a genuine case of sea-sickness No. 1. I enjoyed some
opportunities of observing this during our voyage. For instance: One
evening I was standing by a sick gentleman who had dragged himself or
been carried on deck and laid down on a water-proof mattress which
raised him two or three inches from the floor. Suddenly a great wave
broke square over the bow of the ship and rushed aft in a river through
either gangway--the two streams reuniting beyond the purser's and
doctor's offices, just where the sick man lay. Any live man would have
jumped to his feet as suddenly as if a rattlesnake were whizzing in his
blanket; but the sufferer never moved, and the languid coolness of eye
wherewith he regarded the rushing flood which made an island of him was
most expressive.
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