The gloom of the night had changed to a blackness that made it impossible to see an arm's length away.

Standing on the starboard bridge, I could scarcely distinguish the faint white foam gathered under the forefoot.

Aft there was nothing visible save a length of stay which seemingly began at nothing and ended in darkness.
The howling of the wind through the taut cordage of the foremast, the sullen plunging of the ship's hull in the trough of the sea, the rise to a wave crest and the poising there before falling once more, the smell of the dank salt air, and the occasional spurt of spray over the leaning bow, all made a scene so novel to me that I forgot Spanish ships and my duty and stood almost entranced.
It was a dereliction for which I was to suffer.

In the midst of my reverie a hand was suddenly placed upon my shoulder and I heard a familial voice exclaim sternly: "Lookout, what do you mean by sleeping on post?
Why did you not report that light ?" It was Captain Brownson! Asleep on post! The accusation was grave enough to startle me, and I lost no time in stammering a denial.

Luckily, the discovery of the strange light, which was just faintly visible dead ahead, occupied the commander's attention for the moment and I escaped further rebuke.
Captain Brownson hurried to the bridge and presently word was passed to go to quarters at once.