In ordinary seas, walking was a matter of difficulty, and when the wind freshened to a gale locomotion ceased to be a pastime.

Frequently I wedged myself into my berth with books and cigar boxes.

On the first day out, my dog (for I traveled with a dog) was utterly bewildered, and evidently thought himself where he did not belong.

After falling a dozen times upon his side, he succeeded in learning to keep his feet.
The carpenter gave him a box for a sleeping room, but the space was so large that, his body did not fill it.

On the second day from port he took the bit of carpet that formed his bed and used it as a wedge to keep him in position.