I often awoke when the watch was called, shivering with cold, and found it difficult, without an unusual quantity of exercise, to recover a tolerable degree of warmth.
I uttered no complaints, but bore this continual exposure, night and day, and other inconveniences, with a philosophical spirit, conceiving them to be a part of the compact.

If the passage had only been of moderate length, I should, in all likelihood, have reached Boston in good health; but nineteen days had passed away when we sailed through the Vineyard Sound, and anchored in the harbor of Hyannis, on the third of July, 1810.
Some days before we reached Hyannis, I found myself gradually losing strength.

I was visited with occasional fits of shivering, succeeded by fever heats.

But on the morning of the glorious Fourth, I felt my whole system renovated at the idea of celebrating "Independence Day" on shore.
The captain and mate of the Lydia both belonged to Barnstable, where their families resided.

They both left the schooner for their homes as soon as the anchor reached the bottom, boldly predicting head winds or calms for at least thirty-six hours, at the end of which time they calculated to rejoin the schooner.
On the morning of the fourth, the crew, to a man, followed the example of our trustworthy officers, and determined to have a jovial time on shore.