e bowsprit: the same term, however, is generally
bestowed upon the sailors' sleeping-quarters, which occupy a space
immediately beneath, and are partitioned off by a bulkhead.

Planted right in the bows, or, as sailors say, in the very eyes of the
ship, this delightful apartment is of a triangular shape, and is
generally fitted with two tiers of rude bunks. Those of the Julia
were in a most deplorable condition, mere wrecks, some having been
torn down altogether to patch up others; and on one side there were
but two standing. But with most of the men it made little difference
whether they had a bunk or not, since, having no bedding, they had
nothing to put in it but themselves.

Upon the boards of my own crib I spread all the old canvas and old
clothes I could pick up. For a pillow, I wrapped an old jacket round
a log. This helped a little the wear and tear of one's bones when the
ship rolled.

Rude hammocks made out of old sails were in many cases used as
substitutes for the demolished bunks; but the space they swung in was
so confined that they were far from being agreeable.

The general aspect of the forecastle was dungeon-like and dingy in the
extreme. In the first place, it was not five feet from deck to deck
and even this space was encroached upon by two outlandish
cross-timbers bracing the vessel, and by the sailors' chests, over
which you must needs crawl in getting about. At meal-times, and
especially when we indulged in after-dinner chat, we sat about the
chests like a parcel of tailors.

In the middle of all were two square, wooden columns, denominated in
marine architecture "Bowsprit Bitts." They were about a foot apart,
and between them, by a rusty chain, swung the forecastle lamp,
burning day and night, and forever casting two long black shadows.
Lower down, between the bitts, was a locker, or sailors' pantry, kept
in abominable disorder, and sometimes requiring a vigorous cleaning
and fumigation.

All over, the ship was in a most dilapidated condition; but in the
forecastle it looked like the hollow of an old tree going to decay.
In every direction the wood was damp and discoloured, and here and
there soft and porous. Moreover, it was hacked and hewed without
mercy, the cook frequently helping himself to splinters for
kindling-wood from the bitts and beams. Overhead, every carline was
sooty, and here and there deep holes were burned in them, a freak of
some drunken sailors on a voyage long previou