"Get a move on and give us a chance to get out of this beastly wet." A sharp retort is given, and the men move on in the same leisurely way.

The men of both watches are hardly in the best of humors.

It is not pleasant to be waked up at midnight to stand a four hours' watch in the rain and fog, nor is it the most enjoyable thing in life to be delayed, after standing a four hours' watch in the rain, realizing all the time that each minute of waiting takes that precious time from the scant four hours' sleep.
But finally "all the watch" is piped, and we go below and flop into our hammocks, to sleep as soundly and dreamlessly as babies.

A sailor will sleep like a dead man through all kinds of noises and calls, but the minute his own watch is called he is wide awake in an instant, from sheer force of habit.
So when the boatswain's mate went around with his pipe, singing out as he dodged in and out among the swinging hammocks, "On deck all the port watch," each of us jumped out of his swaying bed and began to climb into his damp clothes and stiff "oilers." We then made our way through the darkness, often bumping our heads on the bottom of hammocks, and earning sleepy but strongly worded rebukes from the occupants; colliding with stanchions, and stubbing our toes on ring bolts and hatch covers.
All arrived at length, formed an unsteady line on the forecastle deck, and answered to our names as they were called by the boatswain's mate.
So began another day's work on one of Uncle Sam's ships.
It was Sunday, and after a while the fog lifted and the sun came out strong and clear.

All the men who were off duty came on deck to bask in the sun, and to get dried and thawed out.
"Steve" poked his uncombed, sleepy head through the "booby" hatch cover.
"Well, this is something like! If the 'old man' will let us take it easy after inspection, I won't think life in the navy is so bad after all." "Well, inspection and general muster and the reading of the ship's bible will take up most of the morning," said gunner's mate "Patt," as he emerged from the hatch after "Steve," wiping his grimy hands on a wad of waste, for he had been giving the guns a rub.