It made toward death too quickly to suit my youth and vitality.

And there was only one way out of this hazardous manner of living, and that was to get out.

The sealing fleet was wintering in San Francisco Bay, and in the saloons I met skippers, mates, hunters, boat-steerers, and boat-pullers.

I met the seal-hunter, Pete Holt, and agreed to be his boat-puller and to sign on any schooner he signed on.
And I had to have half a dozen drinks with Pete Holt there and then to seal our agreement.
And at once awoke all my old unrest that John Barleycorn had put to sleep.

I found myself actually bored with the saloon life of the Oakland water-front, and wondered what I had ever found fascinating in it.