There was more reason in this too, than in the roasting of eggs; for the first objects Mr Tapley recognized when he opened his eyes were his own heels--looking down to him, as he afterwards observed, from a nearly perpendicular elevation.
'Well!' said Mark, getting himself into a sitting posture, after various ineffectual struggles with the rolling of the ship.

'This is the first time as ever I stood on my head all night.' 'You shouldn't go to sleep upon the ground with your head to leeward then,' growled a man in one of the berths.
'With my head to WHERE ?' asked Mark.
The man repeated his previous sentiment.
'No, I won't another time,' said Mark, 'when I know whereabouts on the map that country is.

In the meanwhile I can give you a better piece of advice.

Don't you nor any other friend of mine never go to sleep with his head in a ship any more.' The man gave a grunt of discontented acquiescence, turned over in his berth, and drew his blanket over his head.
'-- For,' said Mr Tapley, pursuing the theme by way of soliloquy in a low tone of voice; 'the sea is as nonsensical a thing as any going.

It never knows what to do with itself.