The oilskins had a peculiarly thick flavour of their own which made a sort of background to the smells of fried fish, burnt grease, paint, pepper, and stale tobacco; but these, again, were all hooped together by one encircling smell of ship and salt water.

Harvey saw with disgust that there were no sheets on his bed-place.

He was lying on a piece of dingy ticking full of lumps and nubbles.

Then, too, the boat's motion was not that of a steamer.

She was neither sliding nor rolling, but rather wriggling herself about in a silly, aimless way, like a colt at the end of a halter.