{"id":"01KG8AKTGTCV63ABEFMSA5Y7RV","cid":"bafkreiahakrchcygarm6cgtqkvsvvn5ezt3fwuewhbivfw7k6ge7uetxre","type":"chunk","properties":{"end_line":2153,"extracted_at":"2026-01-30T20:48:14.838Z","extracted_by":"structure-extraction-lambda","label":"Chunk 1","source_file":"01KG89J1GP71YDJ60P8SRH97MF","start_line":2091,"text":"CHAPTER XI.\r\nHE HELPS WASH THE DECKS, AND THEN GOES TO BREAKFAST\r\n\r\n\r\nThe next thing I knew, was the loud thumping of a handspike on deck as\r\nthe watch was called again. It was now four o’clock in the morning, and\r\nwhen we got on deck the first signs of day were shining in the east.\r\nThe men were very sleepy, and sat down on the windlass without\r\nspeaking, and some of them nodded and nodded, till at last they fell\r\noff like little boys in church during a drowsy sermon. At last it was\r\nbroad day, and an order was given to wash down the decks. A great tub\r\nwas dragged into the waist, and then one of the men went over into the\r\nchains, and slipped in behind a band fastened to the shrouds, and\r\nleaning over, began to swing a bucket into the sea by a long rope; and\r\nin that way with much expertness and sleight of hand, he managed to\r\nfill the tub in a very short time. Then the water began to splash about\r\nall over the decks, and I began to think I should surely get my feet\r\nwet, and catch my death of cold. So I went to the chief mate, and told\r\nhim I thought I would just step below, till this miserable wetting was\r\nover; for I did not have any water-proof boots, and an aunt of mine had\r\ndied of consumption. But he only roared out for me to get a broom and\r\ngo to scrubbing, or he would prove a worse consumption to me than ever\r\ngot hold of my poor aunt. So I scrubbed away fore and aft, till my back\r\nwas almost broke, for the brooms had uncommon short handles, and we\r\nwere told to scrub hard.\r\n\r\nAt length the scrubbing being over, the mate began heaving buckets of\r\nwater about, to wash every thing clean, by way of finishing off. He\r\nmust have thought this fine sport, just as captains of fire engines\r\nlove to point the tube of their hose; for he kept me running after him\r\nwith full buckets of water, and sometimes chased a little chip all over\r\nthe deck, with a continued flood, till at last he sent it flying out of\r\na scupper-hole into the sea; when if he had only given me permission, I\r\ncould have picked it up in a trice, and dropped it overboard without\r\nsaying one word, and without wasting so much water. But he said there\r\nwas plenty of water in the ocean, and to spare; which was true enough,\r\nbut then I who had to trot after him with the buckets, had no more legs\r\nand arms than I wanted for my own use.\r\n\r\nI thought this washing down the decks was the most foolish thing in the\r\nworld, and besides that it was the most uncomfortable. It was worse\r\nthan my mother’s house-cleanings at home, which I used to abominate so.\r\n\r\nAt eight o’clock the bell was struck, and we went to breakfast. And now\r\nsome of the worst of my troubles began. For not having had any friend\r\nto tell me what I would want at sea, I had not provided myself, as I\r\nshould have done, with a good many things that a sailor needs; and for\r\nmy own part, it had never entered my mind, that sailors had no table to\r\nsit down to, no cloth, or napkins, or tumblers, and had to provide\r\nevery thing themselves. But so it was.\r\n\r\nThe first thing they did was this. Every sailor went to the cook-house\r\nwith his tin pot, and got it filled with coffee; but of course, having\r\nno pot, there was no coffee for me. And after that, a sort of little\r\ntub called a “kid,” was passed down into the forecastle, filled with\r\nsomething they called “burgoo.” This was like mush, made of Indian\r\ncorn, meal, and water. With the _“kid,” a_ little tin cannikin was\r\npassed down with molasses. Then the Jackson that I spoke of before, put\r\nthe kid between his knees, and began to pour in the molasses, just like\r\nan old landlord mixing punch for a party. He scooped out a little hole\r\nin the middle of the mush, to hold the molasses; so it looked for all\r\nthe world like a little black pool in the Dismal Swamp of Virginia.\r\n\r","title":"Chunk 1"},"relationships":[{"peer":"01KG8AJQ101JMR2CW116YE98Z9","peer_type":"chapter","predicate":"in"},{"peer":"01KG89J1GP71YDJ60P8SRH97MF","peer_type":"file","predicate":"extractedFrom"},{"peer":"01KG89HMDZKNY753EZE1CJ8HZW","peer_type":"collection","predicate":"collection"},{"peer":"01KG8AKTGTHN79JDBPVNF1WVBW","peer_type":"chunk","predicate":"next"}],"ver":2,"created_at":"2026-01-30T20:48:16.922Z","ts":"2026-01-30T20:48:25.402Z","edited_by":{"method":"manual","user_id":"01KFF0H3YRP9ZSM033AM0QJ47H"}}