He did not stay there long, nor did he venture to talk much.

As soon as his hammock was ready, Jack was glad to go to bed--and as he was much bruised he was not disturbed the next morning till past nine o'clock.

He then dressed himself, went on deck, found that the sloop was just clear of the Needles, that he felt very queer, then very sick, and was conducted by a marine down below, put into his hammock, where he remained during a gale of wind of three days, bewildered, confused, puzzled, and every minute knocking his head against the beams with the pitching and tossing of the sloop.
"And this is going to sea," thought Jack; "no wonder that no one interferes with another here, or talks about a trespass; for I'm sure anyone is welcome to my share of the ocean; and if I once get on shore again, the devil may have my portion if he chooses." Captain Wilson and Mr Sawbridge had both allowed Jack more leisure than most midshipmen, during his illness.

By the time that the gale was over, the sloop was off Cape Finisterre.

The next morning the sea was nearly down, and there was but a slight breeze on the waters.