The tide being now at the ebb, running out against the wind, there was a heavy sea, and I had to go off to the ship with a boat deeply laden, and most of the people in her in a state of intoxication.

The coxswain, who was the only one who was sober, recommended our shoving off, as it would soon be dark, and some accident would happen.

I reflected a minute, and agreeing with him, I ordered the oars to be got out, and we shoved off, the sergeant of marines and the gun-room steward perched up in the bows--drunken men, ducks and geese, lying together at the bottom of the boat--the stern sheets loaded up to the gunwale, and the other passengers and myself sitting how we could among the crockery and a variety of other articles with which the boat was crowded.

It was a scene of much confusion--the half-drunken boat's crew _catching crabs_, and falling forward upon the others--those who were quite drunk swearing they _would_ pull.

"Lay on your oar, Sullivan; you are doing more harm than good.