I wondered at the liquid sea, which refused to freeze in such a temperature.

The clear, cold sky overhead looked like a steel-blue cymbal, that might ring, could you smite it.

Our breath came and went like puffs' of smoke from pipe-bowls.

At first there was a long gauky swell, that obliged us to furl most of the sails, and even send down t'-gallant-yards, for fear of pitching them overboard.
Out of sight of land, at this extremity of both the inhabitable and uninhabitable world, our peopled frigate, echoing with the voices of men, the bleating of lambs, the cackling of fowls, the gruntings of pigs, seemed like Noah's old ark itself, becalmed at the climax of the Deluge.
There was nothing to be done but patiently to await the pleasure of the elements, and "whistle for a wind," the usual practice of seamen in a calm.

No fire was allowed, except for the indispensable purpose of cooking, and heating bottles of water to toast Selvagee's feet.