He was "enjoying life" among some boon companions, and over a decanter of good wine, as he afterwards acknowledged, lost for a time all recollection of the existence not only of the boat, but also of the sloop.
When the company broke up about nine o'clock in the evening, he came staggering down the wharf, rolled himself into the stern seats of the boat, and ordered us to shove off and pull towards the sloop.

We represented to him that the night was dark and cloudy, and it would be next to an impossibility to find the sloop in the broad bay at that hour; that the attempt would be attended with risk, and consequently it would be wiser to wait until morning before we left the quay.
Our remonstrances were of no avail.

He insisted on going off immediately.

Nothing, he said, would induce him to wait until morning; he knew exactly where to find the sloop, and could steer the boat directly alongside.
It was useless to argue with him, and we dared not disobey his orders.
The motto of Jack, like the submissive response of a Mussulman to an Eastern caliph, is "To hear is to obey." We left the wharf and pulled briskly out of the harbor.

But no sloop was to be seen.