{"id":"01KG8AMHP5Y73TR3BBCJ8TTQTV","cid":"bafkreiekn44i7z5screlx4j6c3cwusw6zjkhcjg4eo24uqydotnyso37ai","type":"chunk","properties":{"end_line":4821,"extracted_at":"2026-01-30T20:48:36.270Z","extracted_by":"structure-extraction-lambda","label":"Chunk 1","source_file":"01KG89J19NC56FFGBCM2SWEZZY","start_line":4757,"text":"CHAPTER XXX.\r\nA PEEP THROUGH A PORT-HOLE AT THE SUBTERRANEAN PARTS OF A MAN-OF-WAR.\r\n\r\n\r\nWhile now running rapidly away from the bitter coast of Patagonia,\r\nbattling with the night-watches—still cold—as best we may; come under\r\nthe lee of my white-jacket, reader, while I tell of the less painful\r\nsights to be seen in a frigate.\r\n\r\nA hint has already been conveyed concerning the subterranean depths of\r\nthe Neversink’s hold. But there is no time here to speak of the\r\n_spirit-room_, a cellar down in the after-hold, where the sailor’s\r\n“grog” is kept; nor of the _cabletiers_, where the great hawsers and\r\nchains are piled, as you see them at a large ship-chandler’s on shore;\r\nnor of the grocer’s vaults, where tierces of sugar, molasses, vinegar,\r\nrice, and flour are snugly stowed; nor of the _sail-room_, full as a\r\nsail-maker’s loft ashore—piled up with great top-sails and\r\ntop-gallant-sails, all ready-folded in their places, like so many white\r\nvests in a gentleman’s wardrobe; nor of the copper and copper-fastened\r\n_magazine_, closely packed with kegs of powder, great-gun and small-arm\r\ncartridges; nor of the immense _shot-lockers_, or subterranean\r\narsenals, full as a bushel of apples with twenty-four-pound balls; nor\r\nof the _bread-room_, a large apartment, tinned all round within to keep\r\nout the mice, where the hard biscuit destined for the consumption of\r\nfive hundred men on a long voyage is stowed away by the cubic yard; nor\r\nof the vast iron tanks for fresh water in the hold, like the reservoir\r\nlakes at Fairmount, in Philadelphia; nor of the _paint-room_, where the\r\nkegs of white-lead, and casks of linseed oil, and all sorts of pots and\r\nbrushes, are kept; nor of the _armoror’s smithy_, where the ship’s\r\nforges and anvils may be heard ringing at times; I say I have no time\r\nto speak of these things, and many more places of note.\r\n\r\nBut there is one very extensive warehouse among the rest that needs\r\nspecial mention—_the ship’s Yeoman’s storeroom_. In the Neversink it\r\nwas down in the ship’s basement, beneath the berth-deck, and you went\r\nto it by way of the _Fore-passage_, a very dim, devious corridor,\r\nindeed. Entering—say at noonday—you find yourself in a gloomy\r\napartment, lit by a solitary lamp. On one side are shelves, filled with\r\nballs of _marline, ratlin-stuf, seizing-stuff, spun-yarn_, and numerous\r\ntwines of assorted sizes. In another direction you see large cases\r\ncontaining heaps of articles, reminding one of a shoemaker’s\r\nfurnishing-store—wooden _serving-mallets, fids, toggles_, and\r\n_heavers:_ iron _prickers_ and _marling-spikes;_ in a third quarter you\r\nsee a sort of hardware shop—shelves piled with all manner of hooks,\r\nbolts, nails, screws, and _thimbles;_ and, in still another direction,\r\nyou see a block-maker’s store, heaped up with lignum-vitae sheeves and\r\nwheels.\r\n\r\nThrough low arches in the bulkhead beyond, you peep in upon distant\r\nvaults and catacombs, obscurely lighted in the far end, and showing\r\nimmense coils of new ropes, and other bulky articles, stowed in tiers,\r\nall savouring of tar.\r\n\r\nBut by far the most curious department of these mysterious store-rooms\r\nis the armoury, where the spikes, cutlasses, pistols, and belts,\r\nforming the arms of the boarders in time of action, are hung against\r\nthe walls, and suspended in thick rows from the beams overhead. Here,\r\ntoo, are to be seen scores of Colt’s patent revolvers, which, though\r\nfurnished with but one tube, multiply the fatal bullets, as the naval\r\ncat-o’-nine-tails, with a cannibal cruelty, in one blow nine times\r\nmultiplies a culprit’s lashes; so that when a sailor is ordered one\r\ndozen lashes, the sentence should read one hundred and eight. All these\r\narms are kept in the brightest order, wearing a fine polish, and may\r\ntruly be said to _reflect_ credit on the Yeoman and his mates.\r\n\r","title":"Chunk 1"},"relationships":[{"peer":"01KG8AJQSQJ82MYXAJSAP25AZ9","peer_type":"chapter","predicate":"in"},{"peer":"01KG89J19NC56FFGBCM2SWEZZY","peer_type":"file","predicate":"extractedFrom"},{"peer":"01KG89HMDZKNY753EZE1CJ8HZW","peer_type":"collection","predicate":"collection"},{"peer":"01KG8AMHP1V4477DT0R4HRRYPT","peer_type":"chunk","predicate":"next"}],"ver":2,"created_at":"2026-01-30T20:48:40.645Z","ts":"2026-01-30T20:48:46.522Z","edited_by":{"method":"manual","user_id":"01KFF0H3YRP9ZSM033AM0QJ47H"}}