What's that? A mighty gale from the south? Curses be! Why is it that every time a sea captain gets a moment to himself, there's always some damnable gale or other...steady as she goes, Mr. Mate. Bolster that standing rigging, Toulouse; clamp that spritsail, Jegger. All of you whelps mind the run and we'll get through this accursed cloud by letting her have her way with us.
Damnable gales. Just as I was sitting down to a mug of wine and a thrilling adventure by Mr. J.P. Arlington. Those books aren't easy to come by, in the ports along our course. Arlington having fallen by the wayside of mainstream literary popularity, i suppose, a damnable shame.
