All of the seventy distinct smells which Coleridge counted at Cologne might have been counted in any given cubic foot of atmosphere, while the next foot would have an entirely different and equally demonstrative "bouquet." I recoiled, and leaned against the bulwark, but soon summoned up courage enough to go half-way down the ladder, and shout out in as stern a tone as I could command: "Here, now! I want you fellows to straighten around there, right off, and help clean up!" They were as angry and cross as they were sick.

They wanted nothing in the world so much as the opportunity I had given them to swear at and abuse somebody.

Every one of them raised on his elbow, and shaking his fist at me yelled out: "O, you go to -- --, you -- -- -- -- ----.

Just come down another step, and I'll knock the whole head off 'en you." I did not go down any farther.
Coming back on the deck my stomach began to feel qualmish.

Some wretched idiot, whose grandfather's grave I hope the jackasses have defiled, as the Turks would say, told me that the best preventive of sea-sickness was to drink as much of the milk punch as I could swallow.
Like another idiot, I did so.
I went again to the side of the vessel, but now the fascination of the scene had all faded out.