More About Being In An Open Boat On the third morning, at break of day, I sat at the steering oar, an hour or two previous having relieved Jarl, now fast asleep.

Somehow, and suddenly, a sense of peril so intense, came over me, that it could hardly have been aggravated by the completest solitude.
On a ship's deck, the mere feeling of elevation above the water, and the reach of prospect you command, impart a degree of confidence which disposes you to exult in your fancied security.

But in an open boat, brought down to the very plane of the sea, this feeling almost wholly deserts you.

Unless the waves, in their gambols, toss you and your chip upon one of their lordly crests, your sphere of vision is little larger than it would be at the bottom of a well.

At best, your most extended view in any one direction, at least, is in a high, slow-rolling sea; when you descend into the dark, misty spaces, between long and uniform swells.