Fragments of voyages and travels, including anecdotes of a naval life

by Basil Hall

Nevertheless, the much-abused Middle watch has its advantages, at least for those ardent young spirits who choose to seek them out, and whose habit it is to make the most of things. There are full three hours and a half of sound snooze before it begins, and as long a ‘spell of sleep’ after it is over. Besides which, the mind, being rested as well as the body, before the Middle watch begins, both come to their task so freshly, that, if there be any hard or anxious duties to execute, they are promptly and well attended to. Even if there be nothing to do but pace the deck, the thoughts of an officer of any enthusiasm may contrive to find occupation either in looking back, or in looking forward, with that kind of cheerfulness which belongs to youth and health usefully employed. At that season of the night every one else is asleep, save the quarter-master at the conn, the helmsman at the wheel, and the look-out men at their different stations, on the gangways, the bows, and the quarters. And except, of course, the different drowsy middies, who, poor fellows! keep tramping along the quarter-deck backwards and forwards, counting the half-hour bells with anxious weariness; or looking wistfully at the sand-glass, which the sentry at the cabin-door shakes ever and anon, as if the lazy march of time, like that of a tired donkey, could be accelerated by jogging.

But the joyous Morning watch is very naturally the universal favourite. It is the beginning of a new day of activity and enterprise. The duties are attacked, too, after a good night’s rest; so that, when the first touches of the dawn appear, and the horizon, previously lost in the black sky, begins to shew itself in the east, there comes over the spirits a feeling of elasticity and strength, of which even the dullest are not altogether insensible. In war time, this is a moment when hundreds of eyes are engaged in peering all round into the twilight; and happy is the sharp-sighted person who first calls out, with a voice of exultation—

“A sail, sir—a sail!”

“Whereabouts?” is the eager reply.

“Three or four points on the lee-bow, sir.”

“Up with the helm!” cries the officer. “Set the top-gallant and royal studding-sails—rig out the fore-top-mast studding-sail boom! Youngster, run down and tell the captain there is a stranger on the lee-bow—and say that we are making all sail. She looks very roguish.”

As the merry morning comes dancing gloriously on, and other vessels hove in sight, fresh measures must be taken, as to the course steered, or the quantity of sail to be set. So that this period of the day, at sea, in a cruising ship, gives occasion, more perhaps than any other time, for the exercise of those stirring qualities of prompt decision, and vigour in the execution of every purpose, which, probably, form the most essential characteristics of the profession.

The Morning watch, also, independent of the active employment it hardly ever fails to afford, leaves the whole day free, from eight o’clock till four in the afternoon. Many a previously broken resolution is put off to this period, only to be again stranded. To those, however, who choose to study, the certainty of having one clear day in every three, free from the distraction of all technical duties, is of the greatest consequence; though, it must be owned that, at the very best, a ship is but a wretched place for reading. The eternal motion, and the infernal, noise, almost baffle the most resolute students.

For a hungry midshipman (when are they not hungry!) the Morning watch has attractions of a still more tender nature. The mate, or senior man amongst them, is always invited to breakfast with the officers at eight o’clock; and one or two of the youngsters, in turn, breakfast with the captain at half-past eight, along with the officer of the morning watch and the first lieutenant, who, in many ships, is the constant guest of the captain, both at this meal and at dinner.

The officer of the Forenoon watch, or that from eight to noon, invariably dines with the captain at three o’clock; and as the ward-room dinner is at two, exactly one hour before that of the captain, the officer who has kept the Forenoon watch again comes on deck, the instant the drum beats “The Roast Beef of Old England,” the well known and invariable signal that the dinner of the officers is on the table. His purpose in coming up is to relieve, or take the place of his brother officer who is keeping the Afternoon watch, till three o’clock arrives, at which hour the captain’s dinner is ready. The same interchange of good offices, in the way of relief, as it is called, takes place amongst the midshipmen of the Forenoon and Afternoon watches. It is material to observe, however, that all these arrangements, though they have the graceful air of being pieces of mutual and voluntary civility, have become quite as much integral parts of the ordinary course of nautical affairs as any other established ordinance of the ship.