I scrambled up through the fore scuttle, and perceiving Cornish smoking a pipe under the break of the poop, I desired he would go and relieve the boatswain at the wheel for a short while and send him to me, as I had something particular to say to him.
I waited until the boatswain came, as here was the best place I could choose to conduct a conversation.
Beyond all question the wind was falling, and though the ship still rolled terribly, she was not taking in nearly so much water over her sides.
I re-trimmed the lamp in my hand, and in a few minutes the boatswain joined me.
I said to him at once—
"I have just made nine inches of water in the hold."
"When was that?" he inquired.
"Ten minutes ago."
"When you sounded the well before what did you find?"
"Between five and six inches."