mbique Channel, making for Madagascar:

"Now that this darned cabin table is comparatively straight, I can
scribble a few lines to you. We've had a beast of a time. The
dirtiest weather ever since we left Beira and the cranky old tub
rolling and pitching and standing on her head as I've never known
ship do before. Consequence was the cargo got shifted and there was
a list to port, so that every time she ducked that side, she
shipped half the channel. Skies black as thunder and the sea the
colour of inky water. We had the devil's own job getting the cargo
straight. Just imagine a black rolling dungeon full of great
packing cases weighing about half a ton each all gone murderous
mad. Just imagine getting down among them, as practically all hands
had to do, save the engine-room, and sweating and fighting and
straining and lashing for hour after hour. And half the time the
port side of the lame old duck under water. How she didn't turn
turtle is known only to Allah and Maturin; and One is great and the
other's a damned fine sailor. Of course, I had to go down into the
inferno of the hold like the others. Part of the day's work; but I
didn't like it; no one liked it.

"When the order was given all hands tumbled up to the hatchway and
began swarming down the iron ladder. It was a swaying, staggering
crowd. When you stand on a wet deck at an angle of forty-five
degrees one way and thirty degrees another and constantly shifting
both angles, with nothing but a rope lashed athwart the ship to
catch hold of, your mind is pretty well concentrated on yourself. I
know mine was. I slipped and wallowed on my belly hanging on to the
rope like grim death till my turn came for the ladder. I got my
feet on the rungs. I was all right, when looking up into the livid
daylight whom do you think I saw calmly preparing to follow me?
Liosha. I hadn't noticed her. She had sea-boots and a jersey and
looked just like a man. I roared:

"'Clear out. This is no place for you.'

"'I'm coming. Go along down.'

"She put her foot on the rung just below my face. I gripped as much
of her ankle as the stiff leather allowed.

"'Clear out. Don't be a fool.'

"Andrews, the first mate, poured out a flood of blasphemy. What the
this, that and the other were we waiting for?