Chapter 13

HE HAS A FINE DAY AT SEA, BEGINS TO LIKE IT; BUT CHANGES HIS MIND

The second day out of port, the decks being washed down and breakfast
over, the watch was called, and the mate set us to work.

It was a very bright day. The sky and water were both of the same deep
hue; and the air felt warm and sunny; so that we threw off our jackets.
I could hardly believe that I was sailing in the same ship I had been in
during the night, when every thing had been so lonely and dim; and I
could hardly imagine that this was the same ocean, now so beautiful and
blue, that during part of the night-watch had rolled along so black and
forbidding.

There were little traces of sunny clouds all over the heavens; and
little fleeces of foam all over the sea; and the ship made a strange,
musical noise under her bows, as she glided along, with her sails all
still. It seemed a pity to go to work at such a time; and if we could
only have sat in the windlass again; or if they would have let me go out
on the bowsprit, and lay down between the manropes there, and look over
at the fish in the water, and think of home, I should have been almost
happy for a time.

I had now completely got over my sea-sickness, and felt very well; at
least in my body, though my heart was far from feeling right; so that I
could now look around me, and make observations.

And truly, though we were at sea, there was much to behold and wonder
at; to me, who was on my first voyage. What most amazed me was the sight
of the great ocean itself, for we were out of sight of land. All round
us, on both sides of the ship, ahead and astern, nothing was to be seen
but water-water--water; not a single glimpse of green shore, not the
smallest island, or speck of moss any where. Never did I realize till
now what the ocean was: how grand and majestic, how solitary, and
boundless, and beautiful and blue; for that day it gave no tokens of
squalls or hurricanes, such as I had heard my father tell of; nor could
I imagine, how any thing that seemed so playful and placid, could be
lashed into rage, and troubled into rolling avalanches of foam, and
great cascades of waves, such as I saw in the end.

As I looked at it so mild and sunny, I could not help calling to mind my
little brother's face, when he was sleeping an infant in the cradle. It
had just such a happy, careless, innocent look; and every happy little
wave seemed gamboling about like a thoughtless Little kid in a pasture;
and seemed to look up in your face as it passed, as if it wanted to be
patted and caressed. They seemed all live things with hearts in them,
that could feel; and I almost felt grieved, as we sailed in among them,
scattering them under our broad bows in sun-flakes, and riding over them